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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Nellie's Housekeeping, by Joanna H. Mathews.
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<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45751 ***</div>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 523px;">
<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="523" height="800" alt="cover" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
<div class='maintitle'><i>LITTLE SUNBEAMS.</i><br />
———————<br />
VI.<br />
NELLIE'S HOUSEKEEPING.</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p>
<div class='adtitle2'>By the Author of this Volume.</div>
<div class='center'>———<br /></div>
<div class='adtitle2'>I.<br />
LITTLE SUNBEAMS.</div>
<div class='center'><br />
By <span class="smcap">Joanna H. Mathews</span>, Author of the "Bessie Books." 6 vols. In a box $6.00<br />
<br />
<i>Or, separately:</i>—</div>
<div class="center">
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Booklist">
<tr><td align="right">I. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Belle Powers' Locket.</span> 16mo</td><td align="left">1.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">II. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Dora's Motto.</span> 16mo</td><td align="left">1.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">III. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Lily Norris' Enemy</span></td><td align="left">1.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">IV. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Jessie's Parrot</span></td><td align="left">1.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">V. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Mamie's Watchword</span></td><td align="left">1.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align="right">VI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Nellie's Housekeeping </span></td><td align="left">1.00</td></tr>
</table></div>
<div class='adtitle2'><br />II.<br />
THE FLOWERETS.</div>
<div class='center'><br />
A series of Stories on the Commandments. 6 vols. In a box $3.60<br />
</div>
<blockquote>
<p>"Under the general head of 'Flowerets,' this charming author has
grouped six little volumes, being a series of stories on the Commandments.
'Our folks' are in love with them, and have made off with them
all before we could get the first reading."—<i>Our Monthly.</i></p></blockquote>
<div class='adtitle2'>III.<br />
THE BESSIE BOOKS.</div>
<div class='center'>
6 vols. In a box $7.50<br />
</div>
<blockquote>
<p>"We can wish our young readers no greater pleasure than an acquaintance
with dear, cute little Bessie and her companions, old and
young, brute and human."—<i>American Presbyterian.</i></p></blockquote>
<div class='center'>———<br />
ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,<br />
<i>New York</i><br />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
<h1>NELLIE'S<br />
HOUSEKEEPING.</h1>
<div class='poem'>
"Be good, sweet child, and let who will be clever:<br />
<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Do noble things, not dream them, all day long;</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So shalt thou make life, death, and that vast for ever.</span><br />
<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">One grand, sweet song."—<span class="smcap">Kingsley.</span></span><br />
</div>
<div class='center'><br /><br />
BY<br />
<span class='author'>JOANNA H. MATHEWS,</span><br />
<small>AUTHOR OF THE "BESSIE BOOKS" AND THE "FLOWERETS."</small><br />
<br />
<br />
<big>NEW YORK:</big><br />
ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,<br />
<small>530 <span class="smcap">Broadway</span>.</small><br />
1882.<br />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p>
<div class='copyright'>
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by<br />
<small>ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,</small><br />
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.<br />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
<div class="center">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
<tr><td align="left" colspan='2'> </td>
<td align="left"><small>PAGE</small></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">I.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Hard at Work</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">II.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Talk with Papa</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">III.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Nellie a Housekeeper</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">IV.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Courtship</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">V.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">White Mice</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">VI.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Gray Mice</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">VII.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Black Cat</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">VIII.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Daisy's Sacrifice</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">IX.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Making Ginger-cakes</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">X.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Fresh Troubles</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">XI.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Night of it</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">XII.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">An Alarm</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td>
</tr>
<tr><td align="right">XIII.</td>
<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Last of the Sunbeams</span></td>
<td align='right'><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a><br /><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;">
<img src="images/1_bird_in_nest.jpg" width="361" height="192" alt="birds" />
</div>
<div class='adtitle2'>NELLIE'S HOUSEKEEPING.</div>
<h2>I.<br />
<small><i>HARD AT WORK.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-n_quote.jpg" width="93" height="73" alt=""N" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi">"NELLIE, will you come down to the
beach now?"</div>
<p>"No!" with as much shortness
and sharpness as the little word of two letters
could well convey.</p>
<p>"Why not?"</p>
<p>"Oh! because I can't. Don't bother me."</p>
<p>And, laying down the pencil with which she
had been writing, Nellie Ransom pushed back
the hair from her flushed, heated face, drew a
long, weary sigh, took up the Bible which lay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
at her elbow, and, turning over the leaf, ran
her finger slowly and carefully down the page
before her.</p>
<p>Carrie stood with one elbow upon the corner
of the table at which her sister sat, her chin
resting in her palm as she discontentedly
watched Nellie, while with the other hand she
swung back and forth by one string the broad
straw hat she was accustomed to wear when
playing out of doors.</p>
<p>"I think you might," she said presently.
"Mamma says I can't go if you don't, and I
want to go so."</p>
<p>"I can't help it," said Nellie, still without
taking her eyes from her Bible. "I wish you'd
stop shaking the table so."</p>
<p>"How soon will you come?" persisted Carrie,
taking her elbow from the table.</p>
<p>"When I'm ready, and not before," snapped
Nellie. "I wish you'd let me alone."</p>
<p>Carrie began to cry.</p>
<p>"It's too bad," she whimpered. "Mamma
says, if I go at all, I must go early, so as to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
back before sundown, 'cause my cold is so
bad. There won't be any time for me to
play."</p>
<p>Nellie made no answer, but, having found
what she wanted in her Bible, began to write
again, copying from the page of the Holy Book
before her.</p>
<p>Presently Carrie, forgetting her caution,
tossed down her hat, and pettishly plumped
both elbows upon the table, muttering,—</p>
<p>"I think you're real mean."</p>
<p>"Stop shaking the table, or I won't go at
all," said Nellie, in a loud, irritable tone.
"Ask mamma to let Ruth take you."</p>
<p>"She can't spare Ruth, she says. The baby
is fretful, and she don't feel well enough to
take care of it herself; and I think you might
go with me. I haven't been to the beach for
four days, because I was sick," pleaded Carrie,
wiping the tears from her eyes.</p>
<p>"Well, I'm too busy to go now. You'll
have to wait until I'm ready," said Nellie.
"I'll come by and by."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p>
<p>"By and by will leave hardly any time,"
said Carrie, with a wistful glance out upon the
lawn, where the shadows were already growing
long.</p>
<p>No answer; only the rustle of Nellie's sheet
of paper as she turned it over.</p>
<p>Carrie wandered restlessly about the room for
a moment or two; then, coming back to the
table, began idly to turn over some loose papers
which lay at Nellie's right hand.</p>
<p>Nellie snatched them from her.</p>
<p>"Now, look here," she said, "if you don't
go away and let me and my things alone, I
won't go to the beach at all. You hinder me
all the time, and I won't be so bothered."</p>
<p>"Cross, hateful thing!" said Carrie, passionately.
"I don't b'lieve you mean to go at all.
I wish I had a better sister than you."</p>
<p>Nellie turned once more to the Bible, but
deigned no answer to this outburst.</p>
<p>Carrie looked back from the door, which she
had reached on her way from the room, and
said in a tone one shade less furious than her
last,—</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p>
<p>"You're always poking over your Bible now,
but it don't seem to teach you to be kind. You
grow crosser and crosser every day; and
you're not one bit like you used to be."</p>
<p>"Carrie!" called Mrs. Ransom's gentle
voice from the next room; and Carrie vanished,
leaving Nellie, as she had said she
wished to be, alone.</p>
<p>Did her work go smoothly after that?</p>
<p>Not very, at least for a few moments. Perhaps
mamma had heard all that had passed,
and Nellie did not feel quite satisfied that she
should have done so. What had she said to
Carrie? She could hardly recollect herself,
so divided had been her attention between her
little sister and the task before her; but she
was quite certain that she had been "cross,"
and spoken to Carrie in an unkind manner,
apart from her refusal to accompany the child,
who, she well knew, had been confined to the
house for the last few days, and deprived of
her usual play and exercise in the open air.</p>
<p>But then Carrie might just as well have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
waited patiently a few moments till she was
ready to go, and not bothered her so. She
would go presently when she had looked out
three—well, no—five—six more verses, and
written them out; and once more she took up
the Bible.</p>
<p>But the words before her eyes mingled
themselves with those which were sounding in
her ears.</p>
<p>"Not like she used to be! Crosser and
crosser every day!"</p>
<p>Ah! none knew this better than Nellie herself,
and yet she strove, or thought she did,
against the growing evil.</p>
<p>Well, there was no use thinking about it
now. She would finish the task she had set
herself, call Carrie, make it up with her, and
go to the beach.</p>
<p>And once more she was absorbed in her
work, in spite of aching head and burning
cheeks,—so absorbed that she did not heed how
time was passing, did not heed that the six
verses had grown into ten, until, as she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
searching for the eleventh, the last golden
rays of the sun fell across her paper, and, looking
up quickly, she saw that he was just sinking
in the far west. Too late for Carrie to go
out now! The poor child had lost her afternoon
stroll. Oh, she was so sorry! How
could she forget?</p>
<p>Hastily shutting the Bible and pushing it
from her, she gathered up her papers, thrust
them into her writing-desk, and turned the
key, ran into the hall for her hat, and went in
search of Carrie.</p>
<p>Where was she? She had not heard the
child's voice since she left her in such a temper,
nor had she heard Daisy's. Probably the
two little sisters had found some other way of
amusing themselves, and Carrie would have
forgotten her disappointment. Well, she
would be sure to give her a good play on the
beach to-morrow.</p>
<p>Where could the children be? For, as Nellie
thought this to herself, she was looking in
all the places where they were usually to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
found, but they were nowhere to be seen. She
called in vain about house and garden; no
childish voice answered.</p>
<p>"I suppose Carrie is provoked with me, and
won't speak to me, and won't let Daisy," she
said to herself. "Well, I'm sure I don't
care."</p>
<p>But she did care, though she would not
acknowledge it to herself; and she sat down
upon the upper step of the porch, and watched
the last rosy sunset tints fading out of the
soft clouds overhead, with a restless, discontented
feeling at her heart. The stillness and
the beauty of the scene did not seem to bring
peace and rest to her troubled little soul.</p>
<p>And why was it troubled?</p>
<p>Because for days past—nay, for weeks past—Nellie
had been conscious of an increasing
ill-humor and irritability,—"crosser and
crosser every day,"—yes, that was it; but
why was it? She did not know, she could not
help it; she was sure she tried hard enough;
and every night and morning, when she said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
her prayers and asked not to be "led into
temptation," she always thought particularly
of the temptation to be cross, for that seemed
what she had to struggle with in these
days.</p>
<p>That, and one other thing.</p>
<p>Nellie tried to put that other ugly failing
out of sight, would not believe that she was
guilty of it; and yet it would come before her
sometimes, as it did now; and as she thought
of little kindnesses, even little duties unperformed
and neglected, she wondered if she
were really growing selfish.</p>
<p>She should so hate to be selfish.</p>
<p>And yet—and yet—people were always
asking her to do favors at such inconvenient
times, when she was so busy; and somehow
she was always busy now. There was so much
she wanted to do; so much to accomplish
this summer, before she returned to the city
and to school; and she did not like to be interrupted
when she was reading or studying.
It was so hard to put her mind to it again,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
and she was sure it was right to try to improve
herself all she could.</p>
<p>The click of the gate-latch roused her from
her troublesome thoughts; and, looking around,
she saw her mother crossing the lawn, Carrie
holding her hand and walking quietly by her
side, Daisy jumping and skipping before them.</p>
<p>Daisy was always skipping and jumping.
What a happy, merry little thing she was!
never still one moment, except when she was
asleep, and not always so very still then, little
roll-about that she was!</p>
<p>But where had they all been?</p>
<p>The toys the children had with them soon
answered this question, for Daisy was pulling a
wagon which had been filled with stones and
shells. The most part of these, however,
lay scattered here and there along the way
home; for Daisy's prancings and caperings—she
was supposed to be a pony just now—had
jolted them out of the wagon and shed them
broadcast on the path.</p>
<p>Still the few that were left at the bottom of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
the wagon told whence they had come; and
the tiny spade and pail full of shells which
Carrie held told the same story.</p>
<p>But how tired and languid mamma looked!
how wearily she walked across the lawn!</p>
<p>Nellie ran down to meet her.</p>
<p>"Why, mamma!" she exclaimed. "Have
you been down to the beach?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Nellie."</p>
<p>"But, mamma, you look so tired. Didn't
you know that was too long a walk for you?"</p>
<p>Nellie, a child grave and wise for her years,
always, or almost always, showed a tender,
thoughtful care for her mother; and it was
sometimes really droll to see how she checked
or advised her against any imprudence, even
gently reproved, as in the present case, when
the deed was done.</p>
<p>"You ought not to do it, mamma, you
really ought not."</p>
<p>"I had promised Carrie that she should go
this afternoon," said Mrs. Ransom, "and I
could not bear that she should be disappointed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
after being shut up in the house for four
days."</p>
<p>"Mamma," said Carrie, "I'm sure I'd
rather have stayed home than had you make
yourself too tired. I didn't know it was too
far for you. I really didn't. Oh, I'm so
sorry you said you'd take me! Will it make
you ill again?"</p>
<p>"No, dear. I think not. I do not believe
it will hurt me, though I do feel rather tired,"
said Mrs. Ransom, smiling cheerfully down
into the little troubled face which looked up so
penitently into her own.</p>
<p>Self-reproached, humbled and repentant,
Nellie could find no words to say what she
would, or rather the choking feeling in her
throat stifled her voice; and she could only
walk silently by her mother's side until they
reached the piazza, where Mrs. Ransom sank
wearily into a chair, giving her hat and parasol
into the hands of the eager little Carrie,
who seemed to feel as if she could not do
enough to make her mother comfortable after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
the sacrifice she had made for her; and Daisy,
who always thought she must do what Carrie
did, followed her example.</p>
<p>Carrie brought a footstool, Daisy immediately
ran for another, and nothing would do
but mamma must put one foot on each. Carrie
brought a cushion to put behind her, and
Daisy, vanishing into the library, presently
reappeared, rolling along with a sofa pillow in
each hand, and was quite grieved when she
found that mamma could not well make use
of all three. Then Carrie bringing a fan, and
fanning mamma, Daisy must do the same,
and scratched mamma's nose, and banged her
head, and thumped her cheek with the enormous
Japanese affair which would alone serve
her purpose; to all of which mamma submitted
with the meekest resignation, only kissing
the dear little, blundering nurse, whenever
such mishaps occurred, and saying,—</p>
<p>"Not quite so hard, darling."</p>
<p>And meanwhile Nellie, with that horrid
lump in her throat, could do nothing but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
stand leaning against the piazza railing, wishing—oh,
so much!—that she had gone with
Carrie when she asked her, and so spared
mamma all this fatigue. Mamma had uttered
no word of reproach; she knew that none was
needed just now, although she feared that
under the same temptation Nellie would do the
same thing again.</p>
<p>But what greater reproach could there be
than that pale face and languid voice, and the
knowledge that but for her selfishness—yes,
selfishness, Nellie could not shut her eyes to
it—mamma need not have gone to the beach.</p>
<p>And she knew that it was necessary and
right that her mother should be shielded from
all possible fatigue, trouble, and anxiety; she
knew that they had all come to Newport this
summer because the doctor had recommended
that air as best for her, and that papa had
taken this small but pretty cottage at a rather
inconvenient expense, so that she might be
quite comfortable, have all her family about
her, and gain all the benefit possible. Every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
one was so anxious and careful about her, as
there was need to be; and she had improved
so much the last fortnight in this
lovely air, and under such loving care.</p>
<p>And now! She had been the first one to
cause her any fatigue or risk,—she who had
meant to be such a good and thoughtful young
nurse.</p>
<p>To be sure, she had never dreamed that
mamma would take Carrie to the beach, but
still it was all her fault. Oh dear! oh dear!</p>
<p>Carrie and Daisy chattered away to one
another and to their mother, while the latter
sat silently resting in her easy-chair, thinking
more of Nellie than of them, thinking anxiously
too.</p>
<p>Suddenly a choking sob broke in upon the
children's prattle,—a sob that would have its
way, half stifled though it was.</p>
<p>"Nellie, dear!" said Mrs. Ransom. "Come
here, my child,"—as Nellie turned to run
away.</p>
<p>Nellie came with her hands over her face.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p>
<p>"Don't feel so badly, dear. I am not so
very tired, and I do not think it will hurt me,"
said Mrs. Ransom. "I thought I was stronger
than it seems I am; but another time we will
both be more careful, hey?"</p>
<p>And she drew away Nellie's hand, and tenderly
kissed her hot, wet cheek.</p>
<p>Nellie went down upon one of the pair of
stools occupied by her mother's feet, somewhat
to Daisy's disgust, who only forgave her
by reason of the distress she saw her in, and
buried her face on her knee.</p>
<p>She was never a child of many words, and
just now they failed her altogether; but her
mother needed none.</p>
<p>"What did Nellie do? Did she hurt herself?"
asked the wondering Daisy.</p>
<p>"No," said Carrie. "She hasn't hurt herself,
but she"—Carrie's explanations were not
apt to prove balm to a wounded spirit, and her
mother checked her by uplifted finger and a
warning shake of her head, taking up the
word herself.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
<p>"No," she said to Daisy. "Nellie is troubled
about something, but we won't talk about
it now."</p>
<p>"Yes, we'll never mind, won't we?" said
Daisy. "But I'll fan her to make her feel
better."</p>
<p>And, suiting the action to the word, she
slipped down from her perch beside her
mother, and began to labor vigorously about
Nellie's head and shoulders with her ponderous
instrument.</p>
<p>Somehow this struck Nellie as funny, and
even in the midst of her penitent distress she
was obliged to give a low laugh; a nervous
little laugh it was, too, as her mother noticed.</p>
<p>"She's 'most better now," said Daisy, in a
loud whisper, and with a confidential nod at
mamma. "I fought I'd cure her up. This is
a very nice fan when people don't feel well, or
feel sorry," she added, as she paused for a
moment, with an admiring look at the article
in question; "it makes such a lot of wind."</p>
<p>And she returned desperately to her work,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
bringing down the fan with a whack on
Nellie's head, and then apologizing with—</p>
<p>"Oh! I didn't mean to give you that little
tap, Nellie; it will waggle about so in my
hands."</p>
<p>Nellie laughed again, she really could not
help it, though she felt ashamed of herself
for doing so; and now she raised her head,
wiped her eyes, and smiled at Daisy; the
little one fully believing that her attentions
had brought about this pleasing result.</p>
<p>Perhaps they had.</p>
<p>But although cheerfulness was for the time
restored, poor Nellie's troubles had not yet
come to an end for that evening.</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 109px;">
<img src="images/deco1-drooping-flower.jpg" width="109" height="74" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 359px;">
<img src="images/2_bird_in_different_nest.jpg" width="359" height="199" alt="more birds" />
</div>
<h2>II.<br />
<small><i>A TALK WITH PAPA.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-m.jpg" width="72" height="71" alt="M" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi2">MR. RANSOM had said that the family
were not to wait tea for him, as he
might be late; but they were scarcely
seated at the table when he came in and took
his place with them.</div>
<p>"Elinor," he said immediately, looking
across the table at his wife, "I met Mr. Bradford,
and he told me he had seen you down
on the beach with the children. I told him he
must be mistaken, as you were not fit for such
a walk, but he insisted he was right. It is not
possible you were so imprudent, is it?"</p>
<p>"Well, yes, if you will call it imprudence,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
answered Mrs. Ransom, smiling. "I do not
feel that it has hurt me."</p>
<p>"Your face tells whether it has hurt you or
no," said her husband in a vexed tone; "you
look quite tired out: how could you do so?"</p>
<p>"I wanted Carrie to have the walk, and I
felt more able to go with her than to spare the
nurse and take care of baby myself," answered
Mrs. Ransom, trying to check farther questioning
by a side glance at Nellie's downcast face.</p>
<p>But Mr. Ransom did not understand, or did
not heed the look she gave him.</p>
<p>"And where was our steady little woman,
Nellie?" he said. "I thought she was to be
trusted to take care of the other children at
any time or in any place."</p>
<p>"And so she is," said Mrs. Ransom, willing,
if possible, to spare Nellie any farther mortification,
"but she was occupied this afternoon."</p>
<p>"That's nonsense," exclaimed Mr. Ransom,
with another vexed look at his wife's pale face;
"Nellie could have had nothing to do of such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
importance that it must hinder her from helping
you. Why did you not send her?"</p>
<p>"Papa," murmured poor Nellie, "I—mamma—I—please—it
was all my fault. I—I
was cross to Carrie. Please don't blame
mamma."</p>
<p>Nellie's humble, honest confession did not
much mollify her father, who was a quick-tempered
man, rather apt to be sharp with his
children if any thing went wrong; but another
pleading look from his wife checked any very
severe reproof, and in answer to her "I really
think the walk did not hurt me," he contented
himself with saying shortly, "I don't agree
with you," and let the matter drop.</p>
<p>No sooner was Nellie released from the tea-table
than she was busy again over her Bible
and the slips of paper, quite lost to every thing
else around her. The children chattered away
without disturbing her; and she did not even
notice that papa and mamma, as they talked
in low tones on the other side of the room,
were looking at her in a manner which would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
have made it plain to an observer that she was
the subject of their conversation.</p>
<p>By and by Daisy came to kiss her for good-night.
She raised her head slightly, and
turned her cheek to her little sister, answering
pleasantly enough, but with an absent air,
showing plainly that her thoughts were busy
with something else.</p>
<p>Daisy held strong and natural objections to
this not over-civil mode of receiving her caress,
and, drawing back her rosy lips from the upraised
cheek, said,—</p>
<p>"No, I shan't kiss you that way. I want
your mouf; it's not polite to stick up a
cheek."</p>
<p>An expression of impatience flitted over
Nellie's face; but it was gone in an instant,
and, dropping her pencil, she put both arms
about Daisy, and gave her a hearty and affectionate
kiss upon her puckered little mouth.</p>
<p>Daisy was satisfied, and ran off, but, pausing
as she reached the door, she looked back at
her sister and said,—</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p>
<p>"You're an awful busy girl these days,
Nellie; the play is all gone out of you."</p>
<p>Nellie smiled faintly, hardly heeding the
words; but other eyes which were watching
her thought also that she did indeed look as
if "all the play had gone out" of her. She
returned to her work as Daisy left her side,
but even as she did so she drew herself up
with a sigh, and passed her hand wearily
across her forehead.</p>
<p>"It is time a stop was put to this," whispered
her father, and mamma assented with a
rather melancholy nod of her head.</p>
<p>Not two minutes had passed when Daisy's
little feet were heard pattering down the stairs
again, and her glowing face appeared in the
open door.</p>
<p>"Ruth says she can't put baby down to put
me to bed," she proclaimed with an unmistakable
air of satisfaction in the circumstances
which made it necessary for mother or sister
to perform that office for her. "Who wants
to do it?" she added, looking from one to the
other.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
<p>Mrs. Ransom looked over at Nellie, as if
expecting she would offer to go with Daisy;
but the little girl paid no attention, did not
even seem to hear the child.</p>
<p>Mrs. Ransom rose and held out her hand to
Daisy.</p>
<p>"Nellie," said Mr. Ransom sharply, "are
you going to let your mother go upstairs with
Daisy?"</p>
<p>Nellie started, and looked up confusedly.</p>
<p>"Oh! I didn't know. Do you want me to,
mamma? Couldn't Ruth put her to bed?"
she said, showing that she had, indeed, not
heard one word of what had passed.</p>
<p>"Ruth cannot leave the baby," said her
mother; "but I do not want you to go unwillingly,
Nellie. I would rather do it myself."</p>
<p>"I am quite willing, mamma," and the
tone of her voice showed no want of readiness.
"I did not know you were going. Come,
Daisy, dear."</p>
<p>But she could not refrain from a backward,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
longing look at her book and papers as she
left the room.</p>
<p>She was not unkind or cross to her little
sister while she was with her; far from it.
She undressed her carefully and tenderly,—with
rather more haste than Daisy thought
well, perhaps, but doing for her all that was
needful; and, if she were more silent than
usual, that did not trouble Daisy, <i>she</i> could
talk enough for both.</p>
<p>But her thoughts were occupied with something
quite different from the duty she had
before her; she forgot one or two little things,
and would even have hurried Daisy into bed
without hearing her say her prayers, but for
the child's astonished reminder. This done,
and Daisy laid snugly in her crib, she kissed
her once more, and gladly escaped downstairs.
Daisy was never afraid to be left alone; besides,
there was the nurse just in the next room.</p>
<p>"Are you going back to that horrid writing?"
asked Carrie, as Nellie took her seat at
the table again.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p>
<p>"I am going back to my writing," answered
Nellie, dryly.</p>
<p>Carrie looked, as she felt, disgusted. Papa
and mamma had gone out on the piazza; but
mamma would not let her be in the evening
air, and she wanted amusement within; and
here was Nellie going back to that "horrid
writing," which had occupied her so much for
the last three days.</p>
<p>Nellie had plainly neither time nor thought
to bestow upon her; and she wandered restlessly
and discontentedly about the room, fretting
for "something to do."</p>
<p>But a few minutes had passed when a loud
thump sounded overhead; and a shriek followed,
which rang through the house. There
was no mistaking the cause: Daisy had fallen
out of bed, as Daisy was apt to do unless she
were carefully guarded against it; and the
catastrophe was one of such frequent occurrence,
and Daisy so seldom received injury
therefrom, that none of the family were much
alarmed, save her mother.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p>
<p>Mrs. Ransom ran upstairs, followed quickly
by Nellie and Carrie, and more slowly by her
husband, who hoped and believed that Daisy had
had her usual good fortune, and accomplished
her gymnastics without severe injury to herself.</p>
<p>It proved otherwise this time, however; for,
although not seriously hurt, Daisy had a great
bump on her forehead, which was fast swelling
and turning black, and a scratch upon her
arm; and she was disposed to make much of
her wounds and bruises, and to consider herself
a greatly afflicted martyr.</p>
<p>How did it happen? Daisy should have
been fastened in her little bed, so that she
could not fall out.</p>
<p>"Nellie," said Mrs. Ransom, as she held
the sobbing child upon her lap and bathed the
aching little head with warm water and arnica,—"Nellie,
did you fasten up the side of the
crib after you had put Daisy in bed?"</p>
<p>"No, mamma, I don't believe I did," said
conscience-stricken Nellie. "I don't quite
remember, but I am afraid I did not."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
<p>"And why didn't you? You know she
always rolls out, if it is not done," said her
mother.</p>
<p>"I—I suppose I did not remember, mamma.
I was thinking about something else; and I
was in such a hurry to go downstairs again.
I am so sorry!"</p>
<p>And she laid her hand penitently on that of
Daisy, who was regarding her with an injured
air, as one who was the cause of her misfortunes.</p>
<p>"Yes, I am afraid that was it, Nellie," said
Mrs. Ransom. "Your mind was so taken up
with something else that you could not give
proper attention to your little sister. I am
sorry I did not come myself to put her to
bed."</p>
<p>It was the second time that day that Nellie
might have been helpful to her mother, but she
had only brought trouble upon her.</p>
<p>She stood silent and mortified.</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom took Daisy from her mother
and laid her back in her crib, taking care that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
she was perfectly secured this time; then went
downstairs. But Daisy was not to be consoled,
unless mamma sat beside her and held
her hand till she went to sleep; so Mrs. Ransom
remained with her, dismissing Carrie also
to bed.</p>
<p>Nellie assisted her to undress, making very
sure that nothing was forgotten this time, and
then returned to see if her mother was ready
to go downstairs. But Daisy was most persistently
wide awake; her fall had roused her
from her first sleep very thoroughly; and she
found it so pleasant to have mamma sitting
there beside her that she had no mind to let
herself float off to the land of dreams, but
kept constantly exciting herself with such
remarks as—</p>
<p>"Mamma, the's a lot of tadpoles in the little
pond."—"Mamma, the's lots of niggers in
Newport; oh! I forgot, you told me not to
say niggers; I mean colored, black people."—"Mamma,
when I'm big I'll buy you a gold
satin dress." Or suddenly rousing just as her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
mother thought she was dropping off to sleep,
and putting the startling question, "Mamma,
if I was a bear, would you be my mamma?"
and mamma unhappily replying "No," she
immediately set up a dismal howl, which took
some time to quiet.</p>
<p>Finding this to be the state of affairs, and
warned by her mother's uplifted finger not to
come in the room, Nellie went downstairs
again, meaning to return to her former occupation.
But, to her surprise, the Bible, which she
remembered leaving open, was closed and laid
aside, her papers all gone.</p>
<p>"Why," she said, "who has meddled with
my things, I wonder?"</p>
<p>"I put them all away, Nellie," said her
father.</p>
<p>"I am going to write more, papa."</p>
<p>"Not to-night. Put on your hat and come
out with me for a little walk," said Mr. Ransom.</p>
<p>Nellie might have felt vexed at this decided
interference with her work; but the pleasure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
of a moonlight walk with papa quite made up
for it, and she was speedily ready, and her
hand in his.</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom led her down upon the beach,
Nellie half expecting all the time some reproof
for the neglect which had caused so much
trouble; but her father uttered none, talking
cheerfully and pleasantly on other subjects.</p>
<p>It was a beautiful evening. The gentle
waves, shimmering and glancing in the moonlight,
broke softly on the beach with a soothing,
sleepy sound; and the cool salt breeze
which swept over them came pleasantly to
Nellie's flushed, hot cheeks and throbbing
head. She and her father had the beach
pretty much to themselves at this hour; and,
finding a broad, flat stone which offered a good
resting-place, they sat down upon it, and
watched the waves as they curled and rippled
playfully upon the white sands.</p>
<p>"Now," thought Nellie, when they were
seated side by side,—"now, surely, papa is
going to find fault with me; and no wonder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
if he does. Twice to-day I've made such
trouble for mamma, when I never meant to do
a thing! I don't see what ailed me to-day.
It has been a horrid day, and every thing has
gone wrong."</p>
<p>And Nellie really did not know, or perhaps
I should say had not considered, what it was
that had made every thing go wrong with her
for the greater part of the day.</p>
<p>But no; again she was pleasantly disappointed.
Papa talked on as before, and called
her attention to the white sails of a ship
gleaming far off in the silver moonlight, and
told her an interesting story of a shipwreck
he had once witnessed on this coast.</p>
<p>As they were on their way home, however,
and when they had nearly reached the house,
Mr. Ransom said,—</p>
<p>"Nellie, what is this you are so busy with,
my daughter?"</p>
<p>"What, my writing do you mean, papa?"
asked Nellie, looking up at him.</p>
<p>"Yes, some Bible lesson, is it not?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
<p>"Not just a lesson, papa," answered Nellie.
"Miss Ashton gave us three or four subjects
to study over a little this summer, if we chose,
and to find as many texts about as we could;
but it is not a lesson, for we need not do it
unless we like, and have plenty of time."</p>
<p>"Then it is not a task she set you?" said
Mr. Ransom.</p>
<p>"Oh, no, papa! not at all. She said she
thought it would be a good plan for us to read
a little history every day, or to take any other
lesson our mammas liked, but she did not even
first speak of this of herself; for Gracie Howard
asked her to give us some subjects to hunt
up texts about, and then Miss Ashton said it
would be a good plan for us to spend a little
time at that if we liked, and she gave us four
subjects. She said it would help to make us
familiar with the Bible."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Mr. Ransom musingly, and as
if he had not heeded, if indeed he had heard,
the last sentence of her speech.</p>
<p>"And I have such a long list, papa," continued<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
Nellie, "that is, on the first subject;
and on the second I have a good many, too,
but I am not through with that. I had very
few the day before yesterday; but then, you
know, Maggie Bradford came to see me, and
she is doing it, too, and she had so many more
than I had that I felt quite ashamed. Then
the same afternoon I had a letter from Gracie
Howard, and she told me she had more than a
hundred on the first, and nearly a hundred on
the second; so I felt I must hurry up, or maybe
all the others would be ahead of me. I've
been busy all day to-day finding texts, and
copying them."</p>
<p>"Is that all you have done to-day?" asked
Mr. Ransom.</p>
<p>Nellie cannot gather from his tone whether
he approves or not; but it seems to her quite
impossible that he should not consider her occupation
most praiseworthy.</p>
<p>"Oh, no, papa!" she answered. "I have
done several things besides. I read nearly
twenty pages of my history twice over, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
learned every one of the dates; then I studied
a page of Speller and Definer, and a lesson in
my French Phrase-book, and did four sums,
and said '7 times' and '9 times' in the multiplication
table, each four times over. 7's and 9's
are the hardest to remember, so I say those
the oftenest. I did all those lessons and half
an hour's sewing before I went to my texts;
but I've been busy with those almost ever
since."</p>
<p>"And you have had no walk, no play, all
day?" questioned Mr. Ransom.</p>
<p>Nellie was not satisfied with her father's
tone now; it did not by any means express
approbation.</p>
<p>"I have not played any, papa, but I had
some exercise; for all the time I was learning
my French phrases, I was rolling the baby's
wagon around the gravel walk."</p>
<p>"And it was pretty much the same thing
yesterday, was it not?" said Mr. Ransom.</p>
<p>"Well, yes, papa," rather faintly.</p>
<p>"Nellie," said her father, "did you ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
hear the old couplet, 'All work and no play
makes Jack a dull boy'?"</p>
<p>"Yes, papa," answered Nellie, half laughing,
half reluctantly, as she began to fear that
her father intended to interfere with her plans
for study. "But am I 'a dull boy'?"</p>
<p>"Neither 'dull' nor a 'boy,'" answered her
father, playfully shaking the little hand in his.
"But I fear there is danger of the former,
Nellie, if you go on taking so much 'work'
and no 'play.' Miss Ashton did not desire all
this, if I understand you, my dear."</p>
<p>"Oh, no, papa! I was just doing it of myself.
Miss Ashton only said, if our papas and
mammas did not object, she thought it would be
wiser for us to have a little lesson or reading
every day. But you see, papa"—Nellie hesitated,
and then came to a full stop.</p>
<p>"Well?" said her father, encouragingly.</p>
<p>"Papa, I seem to be so far behind all the
girls of my age in our class. It makes me feel
ashamed, and as if I must do all I could to
catch up with them."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p>
<p>"I do not know," said Mr. Ransom. "It
seems to me that a little girl who keeps the
head of her spelling, history, and geography
classes for at least a fair share of the time,
and who has taken more than one prize for
composition and steady, orderly conduct, has
no need to feel ashamed before her school-fellows."</p>
<p>"Well, no, papa—but—but—somehow
I am not so quick as the others. I generally
know my lessons, and do keep my place in the
classes about as well as any one; but it takes
me a great deal longer than it does most of
the others. Gracie Howard can learn in half
the time that I can; so can Laura Middleton,
Maggie Bradford, and 'most all the girls as old
as I am, whom I know."</p>
<p>"And probably they know them and remember
them no better than my Nellie," said
her father.</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom was not afraid of making his
little daughter conceited or careless by over-praise;
she had not sufficient confidence in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
herself or her own powers, and needed all the
encouragement that could be given to her.
Too much humility, rather than too little, was
Nellie's snare.</p>
<p>"Yes, papa," she answered. "I suppose I
do <i>remember</i> as well as any of the rest, and I
seldom miss in my lessons; but I don't see
why it is that often when Miss Ashton asks us
some question about a lesson that has gone
before, or about something that I know quite
well, the words do not seem to come to me
very quick, and one of the others will answer
before I can. Miss Ashton is very good about
that, papa, and sometimes it seems as if she
knew I was going to answer; for she will say,
'Nellie, you know that, do you not, my dear?'
and make the others wait till I can speak.
But, papa, even then it makes me feel horridly,
for it seems as if I was stupid not to be quick
as the others, and I can't bear to have them
waiting for me to find my words. So I want
to study all I can, even out of school and in
vacation."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p>
<p>Nellie's voice shook, and her father saw in
the moonlight that the eyes she raised to him
were full of tears.</p>
<p>"And you think that all this extra study is
going to help you, my little girl?" he said.</p>
<p>"Why, yes, I thought it would, papa. I
want to learn a great deal, for, oh, I would so
like to be quick and clever, to study as fast
and answer as well as Maggie, Gracie, or Lily!
Please don't think I am vexed if the other
children go above me in my classes, or that I
am jealous, papa; I don't mean to be, but I
would like to be very wise, and to know a
great deal."</p>
<p>"I certainly shall not think you are envious
of your schoolmates and playfellows, my
daughter, however far they may outstrip you,
and papa can feel for you in your want of
readiness and quickness of speech, for he is
troubled sometimes in the same way himself;
but, Nellie, this is a misfortune rather than a
fault, and, though you would do well to correct
it as far as you can, I do not know that you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
are taking the right way; and I am sure, my
dear, that you have plainer and nearer duties
just now."</p>
<p>"You say that, papa, because I was disobliging
to Carrie this afternoon, and careless
with dear little Daisy to-night, and I know it
serves me right; but do you think it is not a
very great duty for me to improve myself all
I can?"</p>
<p>"Certainly, Nellie, I think it your duty to
make the most of your advantages, and that
you should try to improve yourself as much
as you can at proper times and in proper
places; but I do not think it wise or right
that my little girl should spend the time that
she needs for rest or play in what is to her
hard work and study. My child, you are doing
now four times as much as you should do,
while at the same time you are forgetting or
neglecting the little every-day duties that fall
to you. Is it not so?"</p>
<p>"I dare say you think so, papa, after to-day,"
answered Nellie, with quivering voice;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
"but I can try not to let myself be so taken
up again with my lessons, and then there will
be no harm in it, will there?"</p>
<p>"Have you felt very well, quite like yourself,
during the last few days, Nellie?"</p>
<p>"Well, no, sir," said Nellie, reluctantly.
"Not quite. I feel rather tired every morning
when I wake up, and my head aches a
good deal 'most all the time. And—and—I
<i>don't</i> feel quite like myself, for I feel cross and
hateful, and I don't think I usually am very
cross, papa."</p>
<p>"And the harder you work, the worse you
feel; is it not so?"</p>
<p>"Well, I don't know, papa; but you do not
think study makes my head ache, or makes me
cross, do you?"</p>
<p>"Certainly I do, dear; too much study, too
much work, which may make Nell a dull
girl, if she does not take care. Your little
mind has become over-tired, Nellie; so has
your little body; and health and even temper
must suffer."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p>
<p>"I'll try not to be cross or careless again,
papa," said Nellie, humbly. "And there is no
need for me to play if I do not choose, is
there?"</p>
<p>"Who gave you your health and good spirits,
Nellie?"</p>
<p>"Why, God, papa!"</p>
<p>"And do you think it right, then, for you
to do any thing which destroys or injures
either?"</p>
<p>"No, papa," more slowly still, as she saw
his meaning.</p>
<p>They had been standing for the last few
moments at the foot of the piazza steps, where
mamma sat awaiting them; and now, stooping
to kiss his thoughtful, sensible little daughter,
Mr. Ransom said,—</p>
<p>"We have had talk enough for to-night,
Nellie; and it is past your bed-time. Think
over what we have said, and to-morrow I will
talk to you again. Put texts and lessons
quite out of your head for the present, and go
to sleep as soon as you can. Good-night, my
child."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
<p>Nellie bade him good-night, and, kissing
her mother also, obeyed, going quietly and
thoughtfully upstairs. That was nothing new
for Nellie; but her mother's anxious ear did
not fail to notice that, spite of the walk and
talk with papa, her foot had not its usual
spring and lightness.</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 183px;">
<img src="images/deco2-fuschias.jpg" width="183" height="110" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 319px;">
<img src="images/3_bird_on_branch.jpg" width="319" height="176" alt="bird on branch" />
</div>
<h2>III.<br />
<small><i>NELLIE A HOUSEKEEPER.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-m.jpg" width="72" height="71" alt="M" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi2">MR. RANSOM acted wisely in leaving
what he had said to work its own
effect on his little girl. Nellie was
such a sensible, thoughtful child—almost too
thoughtful and quiet for her years—that she
was sure to think it all over, to consider what
was right, and, when she had decided that,
to resolve to do what she believed to be her
duty. She was honest with herself too, not
making excuses for her own shortcomings
when she saw them, or trying to believe that
what she wished was the right thing to do
because she wished it. If she saw clearly that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
it was wrong, wrong for <i>her</i>, a temptation and
a snare, though it might be right in other circumstances,
she would be sure to put it from
her, hard as it might be.</div>
<p>And her father thought that it would be
easier for her to resolve of her own accord to
give up some of the tasks on which her heart
was set than it would be to do so at his command.
It is generally pleasanter to believe
that we are guided by our own will and resolution
than by that of another.</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom was right. Nellie did indeed
think over in all seriousness the conversation
she had had with her father; even more, she
went back in her own mind over past weeks
and months, and acknowledged to herself that
for some time she had found every thing but
study irksome and troublesome to her, that
lately even this had lost its pleasure, though
she would persevere and felt irritated and
troubled at the least interruption to the tasks
she set herself. She was forced to see that
she did not feel "like herself" either in mind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
or body; that after hours of study her head
ached and throbbed, she was weary and cross,
finding every thing a burden, and having no
wish or energy for play or exercise. It had
been especially so for the last two or three
days, ever since she had worked so hard over
her "Bible subjects;" and honestly, though
unwillingly, with many tears, Nellie made up
her mind to do what she saw to be right,
and give up at least a portion of the tasks she
had undertaken.</p>
<p>"For I do see I'm growing cross and hateful,"
she said to herself. "I can't bear to
have the children come and ask me to play,
or to do any little favor for them, and I don't
like it very much whenever mamma wants me
to help her. I know I <i>felt</i> provoked when she
asked me to roll the baby's wagon this morning,
though I don't think I let her see it. I
believe I don't feel so happy or so good, or
even so well, as I used to do, and I don't know—I'm
afraid it is so much reading and studying
makes it so. I think I'll have to make up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
my mind not to know as much, or to be so
quick and clever as Maggie, and Gracie, and
some of the others."</p>
<p>But this was a hard resolve for Nellie, and
she fell to sleep in no happy frame of mind.</p>
<p>She slept later than usual the next morning,
for her mother, remembering how dull and
languid she had seemed, would not let her be
awakened; and Mrs. Ransom and the children
were just finishing breakfast when she
came downstairs.</p>
<p>"Why, where's papa?" asked Nellie, seeing
his place was vacant.</p>
<p>"A telegram came this morning which
called him to town very unexpectedly," said
her mother. "He went in and kissed you as
you lay asleep, and left his love and good-by
for you, and told me to tell you he hoped to
see his own old Nellie back when he comes
home in a week's time."</p>
<p>Nellie knew what that meant, but she was
sorry that papa had gone,—sorry, not only that
he should have been obliged to leave home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
sooner than he had expected, but also that
she could not now talk more with him on the
matter of her studies.</p>
<p>However, there was her dear mother: she
would listen to her, and give her all the advice
and help she needed.</p>
<p>The children asked permission to leave the
table, which was granted; but Mrs. Ransom
herself sat still while Nellie took her breakfast,
talking cheerily to her, and trying to tempt
her very indifferent appetite by offering a little
bit of this or that.</p>
<p>"Nellie," said her mother, when they were
alone, "I was thinking of asking you how you
would like to be my little housekeeper."</p>
<p>"Your housekeeper, mamma!" echoed Nellie,
pausing in the act of buttering her biscuit,
and looking at her mother with surprise.</p>
<p>"Yes," answered Mrs. Ransom, "or rather
suppose we should be housekeeper together,
you being feet and hands, and I being the
head. Is that a fair division, think you?"</p>
<p>Nellie colored and laughed.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
<p>"Why, yes; but do you think I could,
mamma?"</p>
<p>"I think there are a hundred little things
you might do if you would like," said her
mother. "I'll give you the keys, and you
may make the store-room and sideboard your
especial charge, keeping them in perfect order,
giving out what is needed, seeing that the
sugar-bowls, tea-caddy, cracker-basket, and so
forth, are kept full, taking my orders to the
cook, and other little things which will be a
great help to me, and which will give you
some useful lessons. What do you say?"</p>
<p>"Why, I'd like it ever so much, mamma,
but"—</p>
<p>"Well, but what?" said Mrs. Ransom, as
Nellie hesitated.</p>
<p>"Mamma, I think I'm rather stupid about
such things, and I might make you trouble
sometimes."</p>
<p>"Not <i>stupid</i>, Nellie; and, if you are willing
to learn, I shall be willing to put up with a
little trouble now and then, and to excuse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
mistakes. If you undertake it, I believe you
will be faithful and painstaking, as you are
about every thing, and that you can really be a
great help to me. Will you try it for a week,
and see how you like it? By the time that
papa comes home again, you will be accustomed
to it, and he will not be apt to suffer from the
little slips you may make at first."</p>
<p>"Yes, indeed, mamma; and, if you are not
tired of such a funny housekeeper as I shall
make, I don't think I shall be tired of doing it.
Mamma, <i>do</i> you think I could learn to make
some cake? those ginger-snaps papa likes?"</p>
<p>"I do not doubt it," said Mrs. Ransom,
smiling back into the face that was eager and
bright enough now.</p>
<p>"Mamma," said Nellie, "did papa tell you
what we were talking about last evening while
we were out walking?"</p>
<p>"Yes, dear, he did; and he said he thought
our Nellie had sense enough to see what she
ought to do, and courage and strength of mind
enough to make any sacrifice she felt to be
right."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p>
<p>"Courage, mamma?"</p>
<p>"Yes, dear, it often needs much courage—what
is called moral courage—to resolve to
do what we feel to be a duty, especially if it
calls for any sacrifice of our pride or vanity,
or of the desire to appear well in the eyes
of others."</p>
<p>Nellie knew that she was thinking of such
a sacrifice, and it was rather a consolation to
have mamma speaking of it in this way.</p>
<p>"Moral courage" sounded very fine.</p>
<p>But she sat silent, slowly eating her omelet
and biscuit, and feeling that she had not quite
made up her mind how far the sacrifice must go,
or how much of her work she should decide to
give up. But one thing she had fully resolved,—that
her studies should no longer interfere
with what papa called "nearer and plainer
duties," or cause needless injury to her health
and temper. She would help mamma, play
with the children, walk and run as other little
girls of her age did, and try hard to put from
her all rebellious and impatient feelings at not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
being quite so clever as some among her
schoolmates.</p>
<p>"Mamma," she said, after another pause,
during which she had finished her breakfast,—"mamma,
how much do you think it would
be wise for me to study every day?"</p>
<p>"Well," said Mrs. Ransom slowly, and as if
she knew that she was about to give advice
that would not be quite agreeable, "if you
wish to know what I think <i>wisest</i>, I should say
give up study altogether for at least a fortnight."</p>
<p>"For a whole fortnight, two weeks, mamma?"
echoed Nellie, in dismay. She had
expected that her mother would say she might
well study two hours a day, hoped for three,
wished that it might be four, and had resolved
to be content with the allowance proposed;
but to give up her books altogether for two
weeks! "It seems such a waste of time
for such a great girl as me, mamma," she
added.</p>
<p>"Well, my great girl of ten years, suppose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
we say one week then," said Mrs. Ransom
playfully. "Keep on with your practising as
usual, and with your half-hour of sewing
these with your new housekeeping duties will
take up a good part of the morning without
much 'waste of time,' I think; the rest of
the day I would give entirely to play and
amusement. If at the end of a week we do
not find that you are feeling better and happier"—</p>
<p>"And not so cross," put in Nellie, with
rather a shamefaced smile.</p>
<p>Her mother smiled, too, and took up her
speech. "Then we will agree that my plan
was not needful, and that all this constant
poring over books does not hurt your health,
your temper, or your mind."</p>
<p>"Yes, mamma," said Nellie, with a sigh
she could not suppress, though she did try
to speak cheerfully. Then she added, "O
mamma, I should so like to be a very clever,
bright girl, and to know a great deal!"</p>
<p>"A very good thing, Nellie, but not the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
first of all things, my daughter," said Mrs.
Ransom, putting her arm about the waist of
her little girl, who had risen and come over to
her side.</p>
<p>"No, mamma," said Nellie softly, "and you
think I have made it the first of all things
lately, do you not?"</p>
<p>Before Mrs. Ransom could answer, sounds
of woe came from the piazza without, Daisy's
voice raised in trouble once more.</p>
<p>Tears and smiles both lay near the surface
with Daisy, and had their way by turns. One
moment she would be in the depth of despair,
the next dimpling all over with laughter and
frolic; so that Nellie did not fear any very
serious disaster when she ran to see what the
matter was.</p>
<p>The great misery of Daisy's life was this,—that
people were always taking her for a boy,
a mistake which she considered both unnatural
and insulting, and which she always resented
with all her little might.</p>
<p>Nellie found her sitting at the head of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
piazza steps, crying aloud, with her straw hat
pressed over her face by both hands.</p>
<p>"What's the matter, Daisy?" asked her
sister.</p>
<p>"Oh! such a wicked butcher-man came to
my house," answered Daisy, in smothered tones
from beneath her hat.</p>
<p>"What did he do? What makes him
wicked?" asked Nellie.</p>
<p>"He sweared at me," moaned Daisy; "oh!
he sweared dreadful at me."</p>
<p>"Did he?" said Nellie, much shocked.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Daisy, removing the hat so far
that she was able to peep out with one eye at
her sister, "he did. He called me 'Bub,' and
I'm not a bub, now."</p>
<p>Nellie was far from wishing to wound Daisy's
feelings afresh; but this mild specimen of
<i>swearing</i> struck her as so intensely funny that
she could not keep back a peal of laughter,—a
peal so merry and hearty that it rejoiced her
mother's heart, who had not heard Nellie
laugh like that for several weeks.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p>
<p>Daisy's tears redoubled at this. She had
expected sympathy and indignation from Nellie,
and here she was actually laughing.</p>
<p>"You oughtn't to laugh," she said resentfully;
"it is very naughty to swear bad names
at little girls, and I shan't eat the meat that
bad butcher-man brought."</p>
<p>Nellie sat down beside the insulted little
one, and, smothering her laughter, said coaxingly,—</p>
<p>"I wouldn't mind that, Daisy. Here, dry
your eyes."</p>
<p>"Yes, you would," sobbed Daisy, taking
down the hat, but rejecting the pocket handkerchief
her sister offered; "I have a potterhancher
of my own in my pottet;" and she
pulled out the ten-inch square article in question,
and mournfully obeyed Nellie's directions.</p>
<p>"He called me a fellow too, and he ought
to see I don't wear boys' clothes," she added.</p>
<p>"How did he come to be talking to you?"
asked Nellie, trying to keep a grave face.
"What were you doing?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p>
<p>"I was very good and nice, just sitting on
the grass, and making a wreaf of some clovers
Carrie gave me," explained Daisy, piteously,
"and he brought the meat in, and said, 'Good-morning,
bub; you're a nice little fellow!'
and I'm not, now."</p>
<p>"Here he comes again," said Nellie, as a
jolly, good-natured-looking butcher's boy came
around from the other side of the house.</p>
<p>"I shan't let him see me," cried Daisy, and,
scrambling to her feet, she rushed into the
house before the disturber of her peace came
near her again.</p>
<p>A moment later Nellie heard her rippling
laugh over some trifle which had taken her
attention, and she knew that the April shower
was over, and sunshine restored.</p>
<p>This little incident had so diverted Nellie's
thoughts, and amused her so much, that for the
time she forgot the subject of the conversation
with her mother, which had been so abruptly
broken off; and when she returned to her, she
laughed merrily again as she related the cause<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
of Daisy's trouble, and her indignation at having
been taken for a boy.</p>
<p>Mrs. Ransom did not return to it. She
thought that enough had been said, and she
agreed with her husband in thinking that Nellie
would feel a certain satisfaction in believing
she exercised her own will and judgment in
the matter.</p>
<p>"Here are the keys, dear," she said, when
she and Nellie had laughed over Daisy's tribulations;
"and it is time Catherine had her
orders for the day. Go first to the kitchen
and tell her"—and here Mrs. Ransom gave
Nellie the necessary directions, which she in
her turn was to repeat to the cook. Then she
was to ask the woman what was needed from
the store-room, and to give out such things.</p>
<p>"What's Nellie going to do?" asked Carrie,
who had come in, and stood listening while
her mother gave Nellie her directions.</p>
<p>"I'm going to be mamma's housekeeper,"
said Nellie, feeling at least a head taller with
the importance of all this responsibility.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p>
<p>"Oh!" said Carrie, looking at her with
admiration, and quite as much impressed as
she was expected to be.</p>
<p>"You can come with me, and see me, if
you want to," said Nellie.</p>
<p>"And can I help her, mamma?" asked
Carrie.</p>
<p>"Yes, if Nellie is willing, and can find any
thing for you to do," answered Mrs. Ransom.</p>
<p>Thoroughly interested now in her new undertaking,
Nellie had for the time quite forgotten
lessons, "Bible subjects," and other
tasks, till Carrie said,—</p>
<p>"What are you going to do, Nellie, when
you have finished keeping house?"</p>
<p>"I think it will take me a good while to do
all the housekeeping," replied Nellie. "When
that is finished, I will see. Oh! I'll go down
to the beach with you, Carrie, if mamma says
we may."</p>
<p>Carrie looked very much pleased.</p>
<p>"Then you're not going back to that old
Bible lesson this morning?" she asked.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
<p>"Why, Carrie! what a way to speak of the
Bible!"</p>
<p>"Oh!" said Carrie, rather abashed, "but
I didn't mean the Bible was old, Nellie; only
the long, long lessons you have been studying
out of it are so tiresome, and make you so
busy."</p>
<p>Nellie understood by this how much Carrie
had missed her company since she had been
so taken up with her self-chosen task; and
again she felt that she had been rather selfish
in letting it occupy so much of her time.</p>
<p>Here Daisy met them, and, asking where they
were going, was told of Nellie's new dignity.
Of course she wanted to "help" too; and,
permission being given, she marched first into
the kitchen, and informed the cook,—</p>
<p>"Me and Carrie and Nellie are going to
keep the house."</p>
<p>Nellie gave her orders with great correctness,
Daisy repeating them after her, in order
that the cook might be sure to make no mistake,
except when Nellie told what was to be done<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
with the meat, when she declared she should
not "talk about the meat that wicked butcher
brought," and turned her back upon it with an
air of offended dignity.</p>
<p>Her resolution held good throughout the
day, for at dinner she positively refused to eat
of either the meat or poultry brought by the
"swearing butcher-man," and even held out
against the charms of a chicken's wish-bone
which mamma offered.</p>
<p>Next to the store-room, where the two
younger children looked on with admiring
approbation, while Nellie gave out to the cook
such articles as were needed for the day, and
then saw that tea-canisters, sugar-bowls, cake-basket,
&c., were all in proper order. The filling
of the cake-basket and sugar-bowls was a
particularly interesting process, especially when
Nellie, following mamma's daily practice, bestowed
"just one lump of sugar" on each of
her little sisters, taking care to select the largest,
and then sweetening her own labors with
a like chosen morsel.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p>
<p>It was great fun also to ladle out rice, break
the long sticks of macaroni, and, best of all,
to weigh out the pound of raisins required for
the pudding.</p>
<p>Daisy, however, permitted herself some liberties
under the new reign which she would not
have ventured upon under her mother's rule;
and, not considering herself obliged to obey
Nellie, was decoyed away by the cook under
the pretence of shelling peas for dinner. Having
opened about five pods, little white teeth
as well as her ten fingers assisting at the operation,
and letting about every other pea roll
away, she concluded that she was tired of helping
Catherine, and went back to Nellie, who
was fortunately by this time quite through
with her arrangements in the store-room.</p>
<p>"Mamma," said Nellie, when she had returned
to her mother and reported how successfully
she had fulfilled all her orders,—"mamma,
I do not think the store-room is
in very good order."</p>
<p>"I know it is not, dear," replied Mrs. Ransom,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
"and I have been wishing to have it
properly arranged, but have not really felt able
to attend to it."</p>
<p>"Couldn't I do it, mamma?" asked Nellie,
full of zeal in her new character.</p>
<p>"It would be rather hard work for you; but
some day next week we will go there together
and overlook things; after which I will have
it dusted and scrubbed, and then you shall
arrange it as you please. The people who
hired this house before we had it were not as
neat as my Nellie, I fear. But I am thankful
to find that there are no mice about; I have
not heard one since we have been here."</p>
<p>Mrs. Ransom's dread of a mouse was a matter
of great wonder to her children, who could
not imagine how she could be so afraid of such
"cunning little things;" and, although she
really did try to control it, it had the mastery
over her whenever she saw or heard one, and
was a source of great and constant discomfort
to her.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
<img src="images/4_baby_birds.jpg" width="350" height="204" alt="parent and baby birds" />
</div>
<h2>IV.<br />
<small><i>A COURTSHIP.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-w-quote.jpg" width="102" height="77" alt=""W" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi3">"WILL you come to the beach now,
Nellie?" said Carrie.</div>
<p>"Yes, if mamma has nothing more
for me to do," said Nellie; and mamma telling
her that there was nothing at present, they
were soon ready and on their way; Daisy also
being allowed to accompany them on promise
of being very, very good and obedient to
Nellie.</p>
<p>Nellie, wise, steady little woman that she
was, was always to be trusted to take care of
the other children, and to keep them out of
mischief, so long as she gave her mind to it;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
and her mother had no fear that it would be
otherwise now, after the lesson of last night.
Poor Nellie! the sight of that black bump on
Daisy's forehead was sufficient reminder in
itself, even had she not formed such good resolutions.
<i>She</i> felt it, I believe, more than
Daisy did.</p>
<p>An unexpected pleasure awaited Nellie and
Carrie when they reached the beach, for there
they met, not only the little Bradfords, whom
they now saw frequently, but also Lily Norris
and Belle Powers, who had come to pass the
day with their friends, Maggie and Bessie.</p>
<p>Daisy and Frankie Bradford, who were great
cronies and allies, were soon busily engaged in
making sand-pies, and conveying them in their
little wagons to imaginary customers who
were supposed to live upon the rocks.</p>
<p>Nellie had brought her doll with her. This
was a doll extraordinary, a doll well known
and far famed. It had been presented to
Nellie by old Mrs. Howard, as a reward for
her kind and generous behavior to her little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
grand-daughter Gracie, at a time when the
latter had fallen into trouble and disgrace at
school. To the young residents of Newport,
the chief claim to distinction of the Ransom
family lay in the fact that in their midst
resided this wonderful creation of art. Mr.
and Mrs. Ransom enjoyed the glorious privilege
of being "the father and mother of the
girl that has the doll." Nellie herself was
considered the most enviable of mortals, while
her brothers and sisters shared a kind of reflected
glory. To meet Nellie when she had
her treasure out for an airing was an event in
the day; and frantic rushes were made to
windows or down to gates and palings when
the announcement was made,—"The doll is
coming!"</p>
<p>It was impossible that Nellie should not be
gratified by all this flattering homage to her
darling, and she received such tributes with a
proud but still generous satisfaction, for she
would always take pains to walk slowly when
she saw some eager eye fastened upon the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
doll, or carry it so as to afford the best view
of all the beauties of its toilet; and, choice
and careful as she was of it, she was always
ready when she met any of her young friends
to allow them to take and nurse it for a while.</p>
<p>Of late, however, even this doll had been
neglected and put aside in the press of work
which Nellie had laid upon herself; and this
was the first time in several days that she had
appeared in public. So Nellie was eagerly
welcomed, partly on her own account, partly
on that of her daughter; and after the latter
had been duly admired, and ah'ed and oh'ed
over to the heart's content of her mamma and
the spectators, she was intrusted to Belle's
tender care for a while, Lily having the promise
of being allowed to take her afterwards.</p>
<p>Nellie was never a child who cared much
for romping play or frolic; quiet games and
amusements suited her much better; therefore
her playmates were rather surprised when,
having seen her doll safe in Belle's keeping,
she proposed a race down the length of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
beach, to see who could first reach a given
rock she pointed out. For Nellie, like many
another little child—ay, and grown person
too—when they mean to turn over a new
leaf, was now disposed to run into the opposite
extreme, and to strive to make up for lost
time by taking an amount of play and exercise
to which she was not accustomed at any
time.</p>
<p>Maggie and Lily readily agreed to her proposal,
though they were rather surprised at it,
as coming from her; but Bessie declined, not
being fond of a romp, and Carrie, too, chose to
stay with Bessie and Belle.</p>
<p>Nellie, however, soon found that strength
and breath gave way, unaccustomed as she
had been for weeks past to a proper amount
of exercise; and she was forced to sit down
upon a stone and watch Lily and Maggie as
they sped onwards towards the goal.</p>
<p>They flew like the wind, and it was hard to
tell which was there the first, for they fairly
ran against one another as they reached it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
and, laughing and breathless, turned to look
back for Nellie, who smilingly nodded to them
from the distance.</p>
<p>Meanwhile Bessie, Belle, and Carrie were
amusing themselves more quietly.</p>
<p>"Do you think your mamma would let you
come to our house this afternoon?" said Bessie
to Carrie. "Mamma said we might ask
you."</p>
<p>"Oh, yes! I'm sure she would. She quite
approves of your family," answered Carrie.</p>
<p>"I should think she might," said Belle.</p>
<p>"Mamma thought we'd all like to have a
good play together," said Bessie. "And, besides,
we have some new things to show you,
Carrie. We have some white mice that Willie
Richards gave us; and they are just as
tame, as tame."</p>
<p>"Oh! they're too cunning for any thing,"
said Belle. "They hide in your pocket, or up
your sleeve, or in your bosom if you'll let
them, and eat out of your fingers, and are not
one bit afraid."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>
<p>"How did you tame them so?" asked Carrie,
who was extremely fond of dumb pets of
all kinds.</p>
<p>"We did not do it," said Bessie. "Willie
Richards did it before he sent them to us;
but white mice can be tamed very easily.
Harry says so."</p>
<p>"Gray mice can be tamed too," said Belle.</p>
<p>"Why, no!" said Carrie. "They always
scamper away from you as fast as they can
go."</p>
<p>"Not always," said Belle, with the air of
one who had good authority for her statement.
"Not always, do they, Bessie? For there's a
little mouse lives in our parlor at the hotel in
New York, and he's just as tame as he can be,
and he comes out every evening to be fed."</p>
<p>"And do you feed him?" asked Carrie.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Belle. "Every evening I bring
a piece of bread or cracker or cake from the
dinner table for him, and when papa and I
come in the parlor he is always on the hearth
waiting for us. Then papa sits down by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
table, and the mousey runs up his leg and
jumps on the table, and then he takes the
crumbs I put down for him. Oh, he's so
cunning, and his eyes are so bright! And he
even lets me smooth his fur with my finger."</p>
<p>"How did you make him so tame?" asked
Carrie.</p>
<p>Belle colored and hesitated, looking down
upon the doll in her arms, and seeming as if
she would much rather not tell the story; but
Carrie, who was not very quick to see where
another's feelings were concerned, repeated
her question.</p>
<p>"Well," said Belle, slowly at first, and then,
as she became interested in her own story,
with more ease, "he used to run about the
room, but was not one bit tame, and papa told
the waiter to set a trap for him. And the
man did; and one morning when we went in
the room the little mouse was caught. And
he looked so cunning and so funny, peeping
through the bars of the trap, that I felt very
sorry about him; and, when the man was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
going to take him away to drown him, I cried
very hard, and begged papa to let me keep
him in the trap. And because I felt so badly
papa said I might, but I must feed him, so he
would not starve; and he very 'spressly told
me I must not lift the door of the trap, for
fear the mouse would run out. Papa thought
I would soon grow tired of him,—he said so
afterwards; but I did not, and I grew very
attached to that mouse, and he to me. But—but"—Belle's
voice faltered again, and she
looked ashamed—"but I disobeyed my papa,
and one day I opened the door of the trap a
te-en-y little bit, just a very little bit; but the
mouse ran out just as quick, as quick, and
scampered away to the fireplace where his hole
was."</p>
<p>"Did your papa scold you?" asked Carrie,
as Belle paused to take breath.</p>
<p>"No," answered Belle, remorsefully, "he
didn't <i>scold</i> me, but he looked very sorry
when I told him. He always looks sorry at
me when I am not good, but he never scolds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
me, and that makes me feel worse than if he
was ever so cross to me."</p>
<p>"Well, what about the mouse?" asked
Carrie.</p>
<p>"That very evening I was sitting on papa's
knee, talking to him," continued Belle, "and
what do you think? why, the first thing I saw
was the mouse on the hearth looking right at
me. I had a maccaroon, and papa crumbled
a little bit of it on the floor, and the mouse
came and eat it. Then he played about a
little while; we kept very still, and at last he
ran away. But the next night, and every
night after that, he came; and at last one
evening, first thing we knew, he jumped on
papa's foot and ran up his leg; and now every
evening he does that, and sits on the table till
I feed him."</p>
<p>"How cunning!" said Carrie. "I wish I
had one; but I'd rather have a white mouse."</p>
<p>"The white mice are prettier, but then
they are stupider than Belle's mouse," said
Bessie. "They don't do much but eat and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
go to sleep. I don't think they are so very
interesting."</p>
<p>"There's Daisy crying again," said Carrie.
"Daisy, what's the matter now?" raising her
voice.</p>
<p>Daisy only cried the louder, and the three
children ran forward to where she sat upon
the sand, the picture of woe; while Frankie,
busily engaged in piling sand pies into his
wagon, remained sublimely indifferent to her
distress. Nellie, Maggie, and Lily came running
back also to see what was the matter.</p>
<p>"What <i>are</i> you crying for, Daisy?" asked
Nellie. "Frankie, do you know what is the
matter with her?"</p>
<p>"He told me he'd marry me if I let him
mix the pies," sobbed the distressed Daisy;
"and now he won't."</p>
<p>"Now, Daisy, you ought to be ashamed to
say that," cried Frankie, stopping short with
a pie in each hand, and looking with a much
aggrieved air at his little playmate. "Yes, I
did promise to marry her if she'd let me make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
the pies," he continued, turning to Nellie,
"and so I will; but I promised three other
girls before her, and so I told her she'd have
to wait till they were all dead, and she
wouldn't have patience, but just went and
cried about it. I can't help it if so many girls
want to marry me," added the young sultan,
tenderly laying his sand pies in the wagon.</p>
<p>Daisy had ceased her cries to listen to
Frankie's statement of the case; but her
spirits were so depressed at once more hearing
this indefinite postponement of her matrimonial
prospects that she broke forth into a
fresh wail of despair.</p>
<p>"Oh, Daisy!" said Nellie, "what shall we
do with you: you're growing to be a real cry-baby."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Master Frankie, seeing his
way at once to a peaceful solution of his difficulties.
"And I shall never, never marry
a cry-baby. You'd better hurry up and be
good, Daisy."</p>
<p>At this terrible threat, Daisy's shrieks subsided<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
into broken sobs; and Frankie, touched
by the extreme desolation of her whole aspect,
farther consoled her, by telling her if she would
dry her eyes and be good, he would let her
"make two mixes, and marry her besides."
At which condescension on the part of her
chosen lord and master, Daisy was in another
instant beaming with smiles, and thrusting
her dimpled hands into the wet sand; and the
older children left her and Frankie to their
play.</p>
<p>All but Bessie, that is, who lingered behind
to give her brother a little moral lecture.</p>
<p>For Bessie's sense of justice had been
shocked by Frankie's arrangements, and the
hard bargain he had driven with the devoted
Daisy, who upon all occasions submitted herself
to his whims, and let him rule her with a
rod of iron. Moreover, Bessie considered his
gallantry very much at fault, and thought it
quite necessary to speak her mind on the
subject.</p>
<p>"Frankie," she said with gravity, "you are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
selfish to Daisy, I think. You ought to let her
make half the pies."</p>
<p>"I'm letting her do two mixes," said
Frankie; "and, besides, she said I needn't let
her do any if I'd marry her. That's fair."</p>
<p>"No, it's not. It's not fair, nor polite
either," said Bessie, reprovingly. "You
oughtn't to make it a compliment for you to
marry Daisy. It is a compliment to you."</p>
<p>This was a new view of the subject to
Frankie, and, as he stood gazing at Daisy
and considering it, Bessie added,—</p>
<p>"Anyhow, you ought to let her do half.
You're not good to be so selfish."</p>
<p>Daisy meanwhile had been balancing in her
own mind the comparative advantages of the
present and the future good, and came to the
conclusion that she had made a foolish choice,
and that the mixing of sand pies was more to
be desired than the promise, whose fulfilment
seemed so far distant; and now, with a deprecating
look at Frankie, she made known this
change in her sentiments.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
<p>"I b'lieve I'd rafer mix half the mud than
be your wife, Frankie," she said. "I'll just
'scuse myself and do the pies."</p>
<p>"Oh! I'll let you do half," said Frankie,
encouragingly, "and marry you too, Daisy.
I really will."</p>
<p>But Daisy, before whom Bessie's words had
also placed the matter in a new light, now
felt the advantage of her position, and was
disposed to make the most of it, as she found
Frankie inclined to become more yielding.</p>
<p>"I'll see about marrying you," she said
coquettishly, "but I <i>will</i> do half the pies."</p>
<p>"Yes, yes, you shall," replied Frankie, now
extremely desirous to secure the prize the
moment there seemed to be a possibility of its
slipping through his fingers; "and you'll
really marry me, won't you, Daisy?"</p>
<p>"Maybe so," said Daisy, a little victorious,
as was only natural, at finding the tables thus
turned.</p>
<p>"Ah! not maybe, Daisy. Say you truly
will, dear Daisy, darling Daisy. You shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
mix all the pies, Daisy, and I'll be your horse,
too."</p>
<p>"I'll tell you anofer time," said Daisy,
much enjoying the new position of affairs.</p>
<p>"Ah! no, Daisy," pleaded the now humble
suitor: "if you'll promise now, I'll—I'll—Daisy,
I'll give you my white mice."</p>
<p>Daisy plumped herself down upon the sand,
and gazed at Frankie, astounded at the magnitude
of this offer, in return for the promise
which, in her secret soul, she was longing to
give.</p>
<p>"Maybe your mamma won't let you give 'em
away," she said at length; and then, with relenting
in her generous little heart, she added,
"and I wouldn't like to take 'em from you,
Frankie: it's too much."</p>
<p>"Yes, yes, mamma would let me," said
Frankie, eagerly. "Bessie has a pair, and
Maggie a pair, and I a pair; and mamma said
that was too many, and she won't mind one
bit if I give you mine. And I don't care for
them at all, Daisy, they're such stupid things.
I'd just as lieve give them to you."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p>
<p>"Well," said Daisy, shaking her curls at
him, "then I'll promise; and I only want to
mix half the pies, Frankie, I wouldn't do 'em
all, oh! not for any thing."</p>
<p>This amicable agreement being sealed with
a kiss, and peace thoroughly restored, Bessie
left the two little ones to their "mixes," and
went back to the others, whom she entertained
with an account of Frankie's complete defeat
and submission. They rather rejoiced at it,
for the way in which Frankie usually lorded it
over the submissive Daisy did not at all agree
with their ideas of propriety.</p>
<p>"But do you think Frankie really means to
give the white mice to Daisy?" asked Nellie.</p>
<p>"Why, yes," answered Bessie, "he <i>promised</i>,
you know."</p>
<p>"But," said Nellie, doubtfully, "I do not
think mamma would like Daisy to have them."</p>
<p>"Oh! she needn't mind," said Maggie.
"Our mamma did say she was sorry Willie
Richards had sent three pair; and Frankie
has not really cared for his since the first day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
They're too quiet for him. Daisy might just
as well have them."</p>
<p>"But I don't know if mamma would care to
have them in the house," said Nellie. "She
is so afraid of mice."</p>
<p>"What, a grown-up lady afraid of white
mice!" said Lily.</p>
<p>"Well, she's afraid of <i>real</i> mice," said
Nellie, "and I'm not sure she wouldn't be of
white ones."</p>
<p>"Pooh! I don't believe she would be," said
Carrie. "I wish we could have them."</p>
<p>"I shouldn't think your mother would mind
<i>white</i> mice," said Belle: "you can ask her."</p>
<p>"You're all to come to our house this
afternoon, you know," said Maggie, "and then
you can see them; and bring Daisy too,
Nellie: we want her."</p>
<p>After a little more talk and play, the children
separated, Nellie going home with her sisters,
and promising to come over to Mrs. Bradford's
house as early in the afternoon as possible.</p>
<p>"What makes you go home so soon?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
asked Carrie, supposing that it was those
"horrid lessons" which took Nellie away.</p>
<p>"I thought mamma might have something
else she wanted me to do," said Nellie, "and
we have been down on the beach a good
while."</p>
<p>"What makes you do the housekeeping,"
asked Carrie,—"just to help mamma, or
because you like to?"</p>
<p>"Mamma asked me to do it to help her,"
said Nellie, without a thought of her mother's
real object in proposing the plan, "but I do
like to do it, it is real fun."</p>
<p>"I'd like to do something to help mamma,"
said Carrie.</p>
<p>"Me too," put in Daisy.</p>
<p>"I think you both could do something to
help her, if you chose," said Nellie, with a little
hesitation; for she was a modest, rather shy
child, who never thought it her place to correct
or give advice even to her own brothers
and sisters.</p>
<p>"How can I?" asked Carrie, and,—</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>
<p>"How could I?" mimicked Daisy, looking
up at her sister as she trotted along by her
side.</p>
<p>"Well," said Nellie, "I think you, Carrie,
could be more obedient to mamma."</p>
<p>"I'm sure I do mind mamma," said Carrie,
indignantly. "I never do any thing she tells
me not to."</p>
<p>"No," said Nellie, "you never do the things
she tells you you must <i>not</i> do, and you generally
do what she says you <i>must</i> do; but—but—perhaps
you won't like me to say it, Carrie,
but sometimes you do things which mamma
has not forbidden, but which we both feel
pretty sure she would not like; and then, when
she knows it, it makes trouble for her."</p>
<p>Carrie pouted a little, she could not deny
Nellie's accusation, but still she was not
pleased.</p>
<p>"Pooh!" she said, "I don't mean that.
I mean I want to do some very great help for
her, something it would be nice to say I had
done."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p>
<p>"You're not large enough for that yet,"
said Nellie, "and I don't believe you could
help her more than by being good all the
time."</p>
<p>"Then why don't you be good all the
time?" said Carrie, not at all pleased. "I
shouldn't think it was a great help to mamma
to let Daisy fall out of bed."</p>
<p>Nellie colored, but made no reply.</p>
<p>Not so Daisy, who at once took up arms in
Nellie's defence. Seizing upon her hand, and
holding it caressingly to her cheek, she said to
Carrie,—</p>
<p>"Now don't you make my Nellie feel bad
about it. That falling out of bed wasn't any
thing much; and my bump feels, oh! 'most
well this morning. I b'lieve it feels better'n
it did before I bumped it. Nellie, what could
I do to help mamma?"</p>
<p>"If you tried not to cry so often, Daisy,
darling, it would help mamma. It worries
her when you cry, and sometimes you cry for
such very little things."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p>
<p>"Does she think a bear is eating me up
when she hears me cry and can't see me?"
asked Daisy, whose mind was greatly interested
in these quadrupeds.</p>
<p>"No," said Nellie, "'cause she knows there
are no bears here to eat little girls; but it
troubles her to hear you cry. Besides, you
are growing too big to cry so much, and you
don't want people to call you a cry-baby, do
you?"</p>
<p>"No, I don't," answered Daisy, emphatically,
"'cause then Frankie won't marry me. And I
don't want to t'ouble mamma, Nellie. But
how can I help crying when I hurt myse'f?"</p>
<p>"Oh! you can cry when you hurt yourself,"
said Nellie, "but try not to cry for very little
things; and we'll all see what we can do to
help her. I believe I have been selfish in reading
and studying all the time lately, and not
thinking much about other people, especially
mamma, so I will give up my books for a while,
and try to help her about the house; and
Daisy will try not to cry so much; and—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
Carrie will be careful not to do the things
mamma would not like her to do; will you
not, Carrie?"</p>
<p>Carrie made no answer; she was not mollified
by Nellie's taking blame to herself for her
own short-comings, but only resented the gentle
reproof she had herself received. Perhaps
one reason was that she felt she deserved
it.</p>
<p>But pet Daisy took hers in good part.</p>
<p>"I will," she said, clapping her hands, and
looking as if tears were always the farthest
thing possible from her bright face, "I will
try. I won't cry a bit if I can help it, but
just laugh, and be good all the time, unless I
hurt myse'f, oh! very, very much, indeed. Nellie,"
pausing in her capers with an air of deep
consideration,—"but, Nellie, if somebody cut
off my nose, I ought to cry, oughtn't I?"</p>
<p>"Oh, yes! certainly," laughed Nellie.</p>
<p>"And if a bear <i>did</i> come, I could sc'eam
very loud, couldn't I?"</p>
<p>"Yes, whenever that bear of yours comes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
you can cry as loud as you please," answered
Nellie.</p>
<p>"Oh! he's not mine," said Daisy. "He's
a black man's, I b'lieve. I 'spect he's an old
black Injin man's. There's mamma on the
piazza, an' there's two ladies come to see her."</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 159px;">
<img src="images/deco3-pointy_flowers.jpg" width="159" height="109" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 305px;">
<img src="images/5_cherub_chariot.jpg" width="305" height="164" alt="cherub in bird-drawn chariot" />
</div>
<h2>V.<br />
<small><i>WHITE MICE.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-t.jpg" width="76" height="75" alt="T" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi4">THE ladies with mamma proved to be
two aunts who had come to pass a
part of the day with her.</div>
<p>They had brought pretty gifts for each one
of the children: a series of books for Nellie,—for
they knew her tastes; a wax doll for Carrie;
and a doll's tea-set for Daisy. So it was
no wonder if the white mice were for the time
forgotten in the children's delight over their
new treasures.</p>
<p>Carrie's doll was the handsomest one she
had ever owned; not by any means equal to
Nellie's nonpareil, it is true, but she was more
than contented with it.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>
<p>Nellie was equally pleased with her books;
but after looking at the pictures, and seeing
"how very interesting" the series looked, she
resolutely put them away, and devoted herself
to the entertainment of her aunts, believing
that as "mamma's housekeeper" a part of
this duty devolved upon her. Moreover, she
found that her "help" was needed by her
mother in certain little preparations for this
unexpected company. Perhaps in her new
zeal she did more than was needful, and might
have left some things to the servants; but her
mother was so glad to see her occupied and
content without her beloved study books, that
she put no check upon her.</p>
<p>Carrie, too, being very anxious to carry out
her new resolution of making herself of use
to mamma, was very busy, and more than once
had her fingers where they were not wanted.
She ended her performances by a mistake
which alarmed her very much, believing as
she did that she had done great mischief.</p>
<p>The grocery-man having brought several<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
articles from the store at a time when it was
not convenient for the cook to attend to them
at once, they had been left standing upon the
kitchen porch. Such as were to go to the store-room
were by Nellie's direction now carried
there; but there were others which were to be
left under the cook's care, among them some
rock-salt and some saltpetre.</p>
<p>Carrie being, as I have said, seized with the
desire of making herself useful, went peering
from one to another of these things. Seeing
the salt in one bucket, and the saltpetre in
another, neither of the vessels being full, and
not knowing there was any difference between
them, she thought the one pail would hold
both, and forthwith emptied the one into the
other.</p>
<p>"An' whatever have ye been about then, Miss
Carrie?" she heard the next instant from
Catherine the cook, and the woman stood
beside her with uplifted hands, looking from
the empty bucket to the full one. "If she
ain't been and emptied all the salt-pater into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
me rock-salt," she cried to one of the other
servants who was near.</p>
<p>"Oh my! and saltpetre explodes and goes
off sometimes, when it is put with other things,"
called Nellie, who had heard from the store-room.
"Children, come away from it; it might
be dangerous."</p>
<p>Away went Carrie, frightened half out of
her senses, and, rushing into the room where
her mother sat with her aunts, cried in a tone
of great distress,—</p>
<p>"Oh! mamma, mamma, I've put all the
Peter salt into the other salt, and Nellie thinks
we'll blow up."</p>
<p>The smile with which her mother and the
other ladies heard this alarming announcement
somewhat reassured her, and she soon learned
that she had done no such very great harm;
but, her brothers Johnny and Bob hearing the
story, it was long before she heard the last of
the "Peter salt."</p>
<p>With so much else to think about, it is not
very surprising that the little girls should forget<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
the white mice; and, even up to the time
of their leaving home to go to Mrs. Bradford's
house, Nellie did not remember to ask her
mother if she would object to them.</p>
<p>Daisy, mindful of the advantage she had
gained in the morning, and very much enjoying
the position of affairs, was extremely coy
and coquettish with Frankie this afternoon;
while he, anxious to return to his old standpoint
with her, would have given her every
thing she fancied, and courted her favor by
every means in his power. So you may be
sure that he repeated his offer of the white
mice, for which he really did not care much, so
that it was no great act of generosity to give
them up to his young lady-love.</p>
<p>"They're my own, my very own," said the
delighted child, showing her prize to Nellie,
and the others. "Frankie says so. Just see
this one run up my arm, and the ofer one is
way down in my pottet. Oh! they're so cunning,
and my very own. There comes that one
out of my pottet."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
<p>Daisy was too much absorbed with her mice
to notice the grave, doubtful face with which
Nellie heard her, and watched the tame little
creatures as they ran over her hands and
arms, and up to her shoulder. Nellie could
not bear to damp her little sister's pleasure,
but she feared that her mother would be
nervous and troubled by their presence.</p>
<p>"Did you ask your mamma if Daisy could
have them?" asked Maggie, noticing the expression
of her face, and guessing the cause.</p>
<p>"No, I quite forgot it," answered Nellie;
"and I can't bear to disappoint the dear little
thing; and yet—and yet—I am 'most sure
mamma will not like to have them about."</p>
<p>"I don't believe she'd mind," said Bessie.
"Our Aunt Annie is dreadfully afraid of real
mice, but she don't mind those white ones
a bit."</p>
<p>"Suppose you take them home with you, and
see what your mamma says," suggested Maggie.
"If she will not let Daisy keep them, then
you could bring them back to-morrow; but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
feel 'most sure she will not be willing to disappoint
Daisy. Just see how delighted she looks,
Nellie."</p>
<p>"Or if your mamma won't let Daisy keep
them, Johnny could bring them back to-night,"
said Bessie.</p>
<p>Nellie was still doubtful; but it was quite
true that she herself could not bear to check
Daisy's delight by even a hint that their
mother would not admire or tolerate the white
mice; and, though against her better judgment,
she resolved to let the child carry them home,
and then act as circumstances, or rather mamma's
wishes, dictated. It would have been
better to have told Daisy at once, Nellie knew
that; but she always shrank from inflicting
pain, or saying that which was disagreeable to
another; and, besides, she had a faint hope
that her mother might not so much mind the
<i>white</i> mice. Miss Annie Stanton's example
was an encouraging one in this matter.</p>
<p>So after an afternoon pleasantly spent in
play, during which Daisy could scarcely be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
persuaded to part from her new pets for a
single moment, the Ransom children said
good-by to their young friends, and turned
their faces homeward.</p>
<p>Daisy walked sedately along by Nellie's
side, not skipping and jumping as was her
wont, lest she should disturb the precious
white mice, one of which lay curled in her
"pottet," the other in a box also given to her
by Frankie, which she held tenderly clasped
with both hands to her breast. The child's
face was radiant as she talked of her treasures,
and every now and then peeped within the box
where one of them lay; and Nellie, watching
and listening to her, was ready to believe that
mamma could not and would not have any fear
of the pretty little things.</p>
<p>Still!</p>
<p>She, Nellie, had intended to be the first to
speak to her mother of the white mice, and to
tell Daisy to keep them out of sight till mamma
should hear of them, and her permission
be gained to bring them into the house. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
was just about to speak to Daisy as they entered
the gate, when her attention was called
for the moment by Johnny, who begged her
to help him unravel a knot in his fish-line,
knowing well—impetuous fellow!—that her
patient fingers were better at that than his
own stronger but less careful ones.</p>
<p>All that needed patience and gentleness it
seemed natural to bring to steady, painstaking
Nellie.</p>
<p>But just at the moment that she was engaged
with Johnny's line, and when she had
for the time forgotten Daisy and the white
mice, the little one spied her mother coming
out upon the piazza; and, anxious to display
her prize, she scampered away over the lawn
as fast as her feet could carry her, Carrie following.</p>
<p>"Mamma, mamma!" cried Daisy as she
reached her mother's side, "dear mamma,
just see what Frankie Bradford gave me.
All for my own, my very own, to keep for
ever, an' ever, an' ever, he said so."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p>
<p>And, plunging her hand into her pocket, she
brought forth one mouse and laid it in triumph
on her mother's lap; then, opening the box,
thrust the other beneath her very eyes, her
own chubby face fairly brimming over with
dimples and smiles.</p>
<p>Mrs. Ransom turned a shade paler, shrank
back a little, then with a forced smile said,—</p>
<p>"Yes, darling, very pretty. I dare say you
are very much pleased; but suppose you put
this little fellow in the box with his brother.
It is a better place for him than mamma's
lap."</p>
<p>"Oh, no! mamma, he'd just as lieve stay in
your lap," said Daisy. "He's not a bit af'aid
of you. He likes peoples. See, he'll run right
up your arm;" and, taking the mouse up, she
would have laid it upon her mother's hand,
had not Mrs. Ransom drawn back with an
unmistakable shudder and expression of disgust
which struck even the unconscious Daisy.</p>
<p>"Don't, darling, don't," she said hurriedly,
but gently, unwilling to wound her little girl,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
or to give her any dread of the harmless
creatures, but still feeling that she <i>could not</i>
bear them near her. "Take them away,
my pet: you know mamma does not like
mice."</p>
<p>"They're not <i>weally</i> mice, mamma," said
the little one, opening great astonished eyes at
her mother, but at the same time obeying her
words and drawing farther away with her
mice,—"they're only white ones, not <i>weally</i>
ones."</p>
<p>"Yes, darling," said her mother, trying to
control her disgust for the child's sake, "but
mamma does not like any mice. Suppose you
put them away."</p>
<p>Just at this moment Nellie ran up the piazza
steps.</p>
<p>"O mamma!" she said, seeing the expression
of her mother's face, "I meant to tell you
about the white mice before Daisy brought
them near you or showed them to you, but she
was too quick for me. Daisy, darling, take
them away; you see mamma does not like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
them, and you must take them back to Frankie
Bradford."</p>
<p>To have seen Daisy's face!</p>
<p>She could not believe it possible that any
one should really have a fear or dislike to
"such cunning little things" as her white
mice, and she stood looking from mother to
sister, dismay, disappointment, and wonder
mingling in her expression.</p>
<p>Poor little Daisy!</p>
<p>Nellie hastily explained to her mother, telling
her how she had been detained by Johnny,
and that she had not intended to allow her to
see the mice until she had learned whether or
no they would annoy her; and ending by saying
that she was sure Daisy would be a good
girl and carry them back to Frankie.</p>
<p>Nellie herself, Mrs. Ransom and Carrie, all
expected to hear Daisy break into one of her
dismal wails at this proposal; but, to their
surprise, this did not follow.</p>
<p>True, the little face worked sadly, and
Daisy winked her eyes very hard, trying to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
keep back the gathering tears, while her bosom,
to which she held the mice tightly clasped,
rose and fell with the sobs she struggled to
suppress.</p>
<p>"Mamma," she at last gasped rather than
said,—"mamma, I'm trying very hard: I <i>am</i>
trying not to be a cry-baby any more, 'cause
Nellie said that was a good way to be a help to
you; but, mamma, oh! I do 'most <i>have</i> to be a
cry-baby if you don't love my mice, 'cause I do
love 'em so."</p>
<p>"My precious lambie!" said the mother;
and, forgetting her own aversion to Daisy's
pets in her sympathy for the child, she held
out her arms to her, and gathered her, mice
and all, within their loving clasp.</p>
<p>Thoughtful Nellie in another instant had
taken the mice from Daisy's hold, and shutting
both within the box laid it on a chair at a
distance.</p>
<p>"Mamma," sobbed Daisy, hiding her little
pitiful face on her mother's bosom, "I will
take 'em back to Frankie. I didn't know you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
would degust 'em so, and I'm sorry I bringed
'em home for you to see. And, mamma, I
wouldn't be a cry-baby, 'deed I wouldn't, if I
could help it."</p>
<p>"You can cry a little if you want to, and no
one shall call you a cry-baby, my pet," said
her mother, "and"—Mrs. Ransom hesitated;
then after a little struggle with herself, went
on—"and you shall keep the mice, darling.
Perhaps we can find a place for them where
mamma will not see them."</p>
<p>Daisy raised her head, showing flushed
cheeks and tearful eyes, and a still quivering
lip, although smiles and dimples were already
mingling themselves with these signs of distress,
at this crumb of comfort.</p>
<p>Never was such an April face and temper as
Daisy Ransom's.</p>
<p>"I'll tell you, mamma," said Johnny, coming
to the rescue, "Bob and I can make a
cubby hole for them down in the garden-house,
and they can live there, where they need never
bother you. Daisy can go and play with them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
there when she wants them. Will that do,
Daisy?"</p>
<p>Do? One would have thought so to see
Daisy's delight. She was beaming and dimpling
all over now.</p>
<p>"Oh! you dear, darling, loving Johnny,"
she exclaimed, clapping her hands; then
turning to her mother, and softly touching her
cheek, she asked in the most insinuating
little way,—</p>
<p>"Mamma, dear, would they trouble you
down in the garden-house? If they would,
I'll do wifout 'em."</p>
<p>Who could resist her sweet coaxing way.</p>
<p>Not her mother, certainly, who, once more
kissing the little eager, upturned face, assured
her that she might keep the white mice, and
have them down in the garden-house.</p>
<p>"There's an old bird-cage upstairs in the
attic," said Nellie, "why wouldn't that do for
a house for them?"</p>
<p>"Just the thing. I'll bring it," said Johnny,
and away he went upstairs, three steps at once,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
and returning in less time than would have
seemed possible, with the old, disused bird-cage.</p>
<p>"It is rather the worse for wear," he said,
turning it around, and viewing it disparagingly,
"but we'll make it do. I'll cobble
it up; and it will hold the mice anyhow,
Daisy."</p>
<p>To Daisy it seemed a palace for her mice.
Every thing was <i>couleur de rose</i> to her now
that she was to be allowed to keep her new
pets, and that, as she believed, without any
annoyance to mamma.</p>
<p>Johnny and Bob were very kind too. They
went to work at once; the former straightening
the bent bars of the cage, the latter finding
a cup and a small tin box for the food and
drink of the white mice.</p>
<p>Daisy was enchanted, and stood by with
radiant face till she saw her pets lodged safely
within their new house, when she was even
satisfied to have the boys carry them to the
garden-house, and to stay behind herself;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
mamma telling her that it was too late for her
to go out again.</p>
<p>Never was happier child than Daisy when
she laid her little head on her pillow that night.</p>
<p>"What a nice day this has been!" said
Carrie, as the four elder children sat with
their mother upon the piazza, after Daisy had
gone to rest.</p>
<p>"What's made it so wonderfully nice?"
asked Johnny.</p>
<p>"Well, I don't know," said Carrie. "I've
had a very pleasant time somehow, and I
believe it's 'cause Nellie has been with me
'most all day, and been so nice. Why, Nellie,
you haven't studied one bit to-day."</p>
<p>"Why, no," exclaimed Nellie. "I declare
I forgot all about my practising and sewing,
and every thing. I never thought of my books,
I've been so busy. Why didn't you remind
me of the practising and sewing, mamma?"</p>
<p>Her mother smiled.</p>
<p>"I thought it just as well to let you take
the whole day for other things, Nellie," she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
said: "a whole holiday from books and work
will not hurt you. You <i>have</i> managed to live
and be happy through it, have you not?"</p>
<p>"Why, yes," answered Nellie, astonished at
herself, as she recollected how completely
lessons, sewing, and practising had slipped
from her mind; "and it has been a very nice
day, as Carrie says. A great deal pleasanter
than yesterday," she added, as she contrasted
her feelings of last night with those of to-night.</p>
<p>There could be no doubt of it. She felt
more like herself, better and happier to-night,
than she had done, not only yesterday, but for
many days previous; and here was fresh proof,
if her sensible little mind had needed it, that
her father and mother were right, and that
"all work and no play" were fast taking ill
effect on both mind and body.</p>
<p>Now it will not do for little girls who are
inclined to be idle and negligent in their
studies to find encouragement for their laziness
in Nellie's example, or to think that what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
was good for her must be good for them.
Nellie was a child who, as you have seen,
erred on the other side, not only from real
love for her books, but also from the desire to
learn as much and as fast as her quicker
and more clever schoolmates; but this is a
fault with which but few children can be
reproached, and I should be sorry to have
my story furnish any one with an excuse for
idleness or neglect of duty.</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 114px;">
<img src="images/deco4-rosebud_with_spines.jpg" width="114" height="99" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;">
<img src="images/1_bird_in_nest.jpg" width="361" height="192" alt="birds" />
</div>
<h2>VI.<br />
<small><i>THE GRAY MICE.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-d.jpg" width="73" height="73" alt="D" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi4">DURING the next few days Daisy, and
not Daisy only, but also the other
children, found great pleasure and
satisfaction in the white mice. They were all
very careful not to take them near the house
where they might trouble their mother, and
Daisy was so particular about this, and so
grateful to mamma for allowing her to keep
them, that whenever she saw her go out in the
garden, or even on the piazza which faced that
way, she would rush to the garden-house, put
the cage containing her mice in a corner behind
a bench, throw over that a piece of old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>
cocoa matting with half a dozen garden-tools
piled on top, and then come out in a state of
great excitement, shutting the door behind
her, and holding it fast with both hands till
mamma was out of sight. One might have
thought, to see her, that some fierce dog
or wild animal was behind that door, able to
unlatch it for itself, and eager to make a fierce
attack on her mother. As for taking them
near the house, or letting them annoy mamma
in any way, that Daisy would not have
thought of; and she was so good that when a
rainy day came, and she could not go out to the
garden-house, she never whimpered or fretted
at all, but cheerfully submitted to have her
pets cared for by the boys.</div>
<p>After that first day of her new experiment,
Nellie did not altogether discard her lessons.
Her half-hour of sewing, another of reading
history, and an hour's practising, mamma
thought might as well be kept up; but she
no longer devoted herself to her books and
writing as she had done: indeed, this would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
have been quite impossible if she properly fulfilled
her new and pleasant duties as mamma's
little housekeeper. There seemed so much to
be done; and Nellie was quite amazed to find
what a help she could be, and how interested
she felt in having things in nice order.</p>
<p>One morning, Mrs. Ransom said she would
have the store-room cleaned, and put in thorough
order. But first various drawers, bins,
boxes, and other receptacles must be looked
over; and this Nellie could do, with Catherine
to assist her, and move such articles as were
too heavy or cumbersome for her. Mrs. Ransom
went herself to the store-room, and gave
both Nellie and the cook some general orders,
but she was feeling more than usually languid
that day, and soon tired of the bustle; so she
returned to the library, telling Nellie to send
to her if she was in any difficulty, or at any
loss to know what to do. Nellie determined
that mamma should be troubled as little as
possible, and, with a pleasant sense of responsibility
and happiness, set about her task.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p>
<p>Catherine humored her as much as possible;
for Nellie, with her pleasant, gentle ways, was
a favorite with all her inferiors, and every
servant in the house was ready to oblige her,
or do her bidding.</p>
<p>Carrie and Daisy were very busy too, of
course, and trotted many times between kitchen,
pantry, and store-room, carrying articles
that were to be thrown away or put in other
places.</p>
<p>"There now, Miss Nellie, I think you can
get along without me for a bit," said Catherine,
at last. "I have my bread to see to, and you
could be overhauling all these boxes and pots
the while, and setting by what you're sure
Mrs. Ransom will want emptied. If ever I
see sech an untidy set as must have had this
house afore us, and a shame to them it is to
be laving things this way, and they calling
themselves ladies and gentlemen."</p>
<p>And, with her arms full of "rubbish," away
walked the good-natured Irishwoman, whose
tidy soul was, as she had said, sorely vexed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
by the slovenly way in which the house had
been left by those who had lived in it before Mrs.
Ransom's family.</p>
<p>"Here, Daisy," said Nellie, who thought it
necessary to find incessant occupation for the
busy little fingers of her smallest "helper"
lest they should find it for themselves,—"here,
Daisy dear, you may sort those corks. Pick
out all the large ones and put them in this jar,
and put the small ones in this. That will be a
great help."</p>
<p>"I'd rafer help fissing sugar," said Daisy,
raising herself on tiptoe with one hand on the
edge of the sugar-barrel, and peeping longingly
within its depths.</p>
<p>"Yes, I dare say you would," laughed
Nellie, "but then the sugar is to stay where it
is. But I'll tell you, Daisy. Run and ask
mamma if I may give you the largest lump of
sugar I can find when the corks are done."</p>
<p>Away scampered Daisy, and did not return
for some minutes, her attention being attracted
on the way with something else than her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
errand, for one thing at a time was not Daisy's
motto.</p>
<p>Having at once eased her own mind on the
subject of the sugar by receiving mamma's
permission to have "the largest lump that
Nellie could find," she thought that both sugar
and corks would keep till it suited her convenience
to return to the store-room, and, seeing
a large parcel lying upon the hall-table,
she was seized with a thirst for information
respecting its contents. She walked round
and round it, inspecting it on every side; then
ran back to her mother.</p>
<p>"Mamma," she said, "there's oh! <i>such</i> a
big bundle on the hall-table."</p>
<p>"Yes, I know it," said mamma.</p>
<p>"And with writing on it," said Daisy. "I
fink the writing says, Miss Daisy Ransom,
with somebody's respects."</p>
<p>"No," said her mother, smiling: "it says
John Ransom, Esq."</p>
<p>"Is that our Johnny?" asked Daisy.</p>
<p>"No, it means papa," answered her mother.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p>
<p>"Are you going to open it, mamma. Papa
is away."</p>
<p>"No, we'll leave it till papa returns. He
will be here to-morrow evening."</p>
<p>"I don't fink it's a good plan to wait. It
makes people tired," said Daisy, plaintively.</p>
<p>"But it is right to wait when papa did not
tell us to open it," said Mrs. Ransom. "Little
girls must not be too curious."</p>
<p>"Is it kurous to make a little hole in the
paper and peek in?" asked Daisy, after a moment
or two of deep reflection.</p>
<p>"Yes, curious and very naughty," said Mrs.
Ransom. "That would be meddlesome. Ask
Nellie to tell you a story she knows about a
meddlesome girl."</p>
<p>Daisy obeyed, but with less alacrity than
usual, lingering for three or four moments
longer about the parcel; although, with the
fear of being thought "curious and meddlesome,"
she did not venture to touch it. At
last with a long sigh she departed.</p>
<p>Meanwhile Nellie and Carrie were opening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
the various boxes, jars, &c., and inquiring into
their contents.</p>
<p>"I wonder what's in this," said Nellie, who
was standing on a chair, and reaching down
things from a shelf. "I thought I heard something
rustle in it. There it is again. Why!
I wonder if there's any thing alive in it," and
she looked with some trepidation at a wooden
box which stood on the shelf before her. The
lid was not shut down quite tight, and again
as she looked at it came that rustle from
within.</p>
<p>Nellie took up the box rather gingerly;
raised the lid a little, just enough to peep
within; then, with an exclamation, quickly
closed it again.</p>
<p>"Why! what is it?" asked Carrie, gazing
up at her.</p>
<p>"There are mice in it, and one almost
jumped out," answered Nellie, crimson with
the little start and excitement, although she
was not in the least afraid of mice. "I'm
not quite sure, I had such a little peep; but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
think there's a big one, and some little tiny
ones."</p>
<p>"How do you suppose they got in?" asked
Carrie.</p>
<p>"I expect the cover has been left partly
open, and then they have gnawed a place large
enough to pass in," said Nellie, turning the
box around in her hand. "See here," and she
showed Carrie where the lid was gnawed away.</p>
<p>"What shall we do with them?" asked
Carrie.</p>
<p>"I don't know," said Nellie, "they'll have
to be killed, I s'pose. They must be put out
of the way before mamma knows any thing
about them, and I think it is best not to tell
her, Carrie. It would only trouble her to
know there had been any about the house."</p>
<p>"Oh! it's too bad," said Carrie. "Must
they be killed?"</p>
<p>"Yes, I'm afraid so," said Nellie. "I am
sorry too: they are such cunning little
things."</p>
<p>"Why couldn't we keep them, and take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
them down to the garden-house where Daisy's
white mice are?" asked Carrie.</p>
<p>"Oh, no!" answered Nellie: "it would
never do, Carrie. I do not believe they would
stay there, and they might come back to the
house, and perhaps frighten mamma. They
must be killed. Just take the box to Catherine
before Daisy comes back: she might let
it out to mamma without meaning to."</p>
<p>"What will Catherine do with them?" said
Carrie, taking the box from her sister's hand,
and lingering with it.</p>
<p>"I don't know. Drown them, I suppose.
I don't like to think about it, but it can't
be helped. Besides, mice <i>have</i> to be killed,
you know, they are so mischievous. Tell
Catherine not to speak about them before
mamma."</p>
<p>Carrie passed slowly out of the store-room,
feeling very unwilling to have the mice killed;
not only from pity for the poor little creatures,
but also because she had a strong desire to
keep them as pets.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
<p>Daisy had her white mice, and was allowed
to keep them: why should she not have these
little animals, so long as they were kept out
of mamma's way? Belle Powers had her
tame mouse: why could not she tame these
as well? And rebellious thoughts and wishes
began to rise in Carrie's breast as she lingered
half way between the store-room and the kitchen,
unable, or rather unwilling, to make up
her mind to do as Nellie had told her, and
carry the box to Catherine.</p>
<p>"I don't see why mamma need be so afraid
of a harmless, cunning little mouse," she said
to herself. "I know grandmamma said she
was frightened into convulsions once, when she
was a little girl, by a bad servant-girl putting
one down her back; but I should think she'd
had plenty of time to grow out of being afraid
of them, now she's grown up; and if she don't
know it, I don't see why I can't keep them in
the garden-house, or—or—somewhere else.
'Cause I s'pose if I did take them to the
garden-house, there would be a fuss about it;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
and the other children would say I ought not
to keep them, and maybe tell mamma. It's a
shame to kill the dear, pretty little things.
Belle Powers' papa just lets her have every
thing she wants. I wish my papa and mamma
did. And Daisy has her own way too, 'most
always; and it's not fair. I'm older than she
is. If she can have white mice, I don't see
why I can't have gray ones. One isn't any
more harm than the other. Besides, I don't
have to mind Nellie. She needn't be telling
me I <i>must</i> take the mice to Catherine. She
thinks herself so great ever since she's been
mamma's housekeeper; but I'm not going to
mind her when I don't choose to. I shan't
let them be drowned now; and—and—I've
just a good mind."</p>
<p>Turning hastily about, Carrie ran down a
short side entry which led to a dark closet
where Catherine kept wood for daily use;
thrust the box in a far corner; and then, with
fast beating heart, returned to the store-room.</p>
<p>"How long you stayed!" said Nellie. "I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
began to be afraid you were waiting to see
Catherine drown the mice, and yet I didn't
think you could bear to."</p>
<p>"No, I didn't," said Carrie, in a low tone,
glad that Nellie had not said any thing that
would have forced her either to confess, or to
tell a deliberate falsehood. She persuaded
herself that she was not acting untruthfully
now, but she could not make her voice as
steady as usual.</p>
<p>Nellie did not notice it. She was just then
absorbed in trying to extract a small jar from
one but little larger, into which it had been
thrust. Succeeding in her endeavors, she took
up again the low song which her words to
Carrie had interrupted.</p>
<p>"I wish Nellie would stop that everlasting
singing," said Carrie to herself, feeling irritable
and out of humor with every one and every
thing. "I've a good mind not to help her any
more."</p>
<p>She had been pleasant, happy, and interested
in her work, but a few moments since. Can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
you tell what had made such a change in so
short a time?</p>
<p>"Daisy has forgotten about her corks and
sugar, I think," said Nellie presently, interrupting
herself again in her song. "Oh, no!
here she comes;" then, as Daisy's little feet
pattered into the store-room, "Did you forget
the corks, pet?"</p>
<p>"No, and mamma says I can have the
biggest lump of sugar, Nellie; and there's
a very big bundle on the hall-table, but it's
papa's."</p>
<p>"Is it?" said Nellie.</p>
<p>"Yes," answered the little one, settling herself
to the task of sorting the corks, "but I
wasn't kurous or messeltome."</p>
<p>"Wasn't what?" asked Nellie.</p>
<p>"Messeltome. Mamma said to touch what
wasn't ours, or to peek, was messeltome; but I
didn't do it. Tell me about that messeltome
girl, Nellie. Mamma said you would."</p>
<p>"Very well," said Nellie, understanding
Daisy's definition.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
<p>"Tell it a long, long story,—tell me till your
tongue is tired, will you?" pleaded Daisy, for
whom no story could ever be too long.</p>
<p>"I'll see," said Nellie; and she began her
tale, but had made but little headway in it
when a servant came and told Daisy that
Master Frankie Bradford was waiting to see
her.</p>
<p>"What shall I do?" said Daisy, in a state
of painful indecision between the conflicting
claims of business and society. "The torks
are not done, and I didn't have my sugar."</p>
<p>"You can take the corks with you, and the
sugar too: perhaps Frankie would like to
help you," said Nellie, dismounting from her
perch, and fishing out the largest lump from
the sugar-barrel. "There, I suppose you will
want a lump for Frankie too."</p>
<p>"No," said Daisy, "mamma said only one
lump. If Frankie does half the torks he shall
have half my sugar;" and away she ran, carrying
corks and sugar with her.</p>
<p>"What a dear, honest little thing Daisy is!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
said Nellie, when she was gone. "I don't believe
she could be tempted to do the least
thing she thought mamma would not like, or
take any thing she thought was not quite fair.
And she's so sweet and thoughtful about mamma.
Just see how much pains she's taken not
to cry for little things since I told her it
troubled her."</p>
<p>Carrie turned away her face, feeling more
uncomfortable than ever, bitterly reproached by
Nellie's unconscious words, no less than by
the uprightness and loving dutifulness of her
almost baby sister.</p>
<p>Daisy found Frankie in the library with her
mother. Mrs. Bradford had sent her nursery
maid to ask if Mrs. Ransom would drive with
her in the afternoon, and Frankie had decided
to accompany her.</p>
<p>"Mamma said I could stay and play with
Daisy, if you asked me," was the young gentleman's
first remark, after he had greeted Mrs.
Ransom.</p>
<p>"Oh!" said Jane, the maid, much mortified,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
"Master Frankie, I'm ashamed of you. Mrs.
Bradford never expected he'd do that,
ma'am."</p>
<p>"No, I suppose not," said Mrs. Ransom,
smiling; "but Daisy will be very glad to have
you stay, and so shall I."</p>
<p>Daisy was called, as you have heard, and
made her appearance in great glee, delighted
to see Frankie, and at once inviting him to
share her labors, and their reward.</p>
<p>The sugar had its attractions, but Frankie
privately regarded the cork business with disdain.
Having come, however, with the intention
of making himself especially agreeable to
Daisy, he did not refuse to enter into partnership;
and they were soon seated on the upper
step of the piazza, and busily at work.</p>
<p>"Frankie," said Daisy presently, luxuriating
in thus having him all to herself, and in this
condescending mood, "would you rafer go to
heaven, or stay here and sort torks?"</p>
<p>"Well, I don't know as I care much about
either," answered Frankie. "I'd rather dig<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
clams. But, then, I'd want you to dig them
with me, Daisy," he added, sentimentally.</p>
<p>The proposal was alluring certainly, but it
had its objections in Daisy's eyes; and she
said, in a corresponding tone,—</p>
<p>"I b'lieve I couldn't. They might think I
was a boy if I digged clams. But, Frankie,
if I went to heaven wifout you, would you
cry?"</p>
<p>"No," answered Frankie, indignantly, "men
don't cry about things like that. Maybe I
wouldn't laugh much that day, but I would not
cry."</p>
<p>Daisy was silent for a moment, then suddenly
put one of those startling questions for
which she was famous.</p>
<p>"Frankie, if I went in to bafe, and Jonah's
whale came and swallowed me up, how could
God get my soul out of him?"</p>
<p>Frankie considered for a little; then not
seeing his way clear to a satisfactory answer,
and unwilling to confess ignorance on any
point, he said gravely and reprovingly,—</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p>
<p>"That's not a proper question for you to
ask, Daisy."</p>
<p>Daisy looked abashed, and said,—</p>
<p>"I didn't mean to ask improper kestions."</p>
<p>"No, I don't s'pose you did, so I thought
I'd better tell you," said Frankie. "We'll talk
about something else."</p>
<p>"They're all done," said Daisy, meaning the
corks, "now we'll eat the sugar."</p>
<p>But the dividing of the sugar proved a
difficult matter; for the lump was large and
thick, and resisted the efforts of both pairs of
little hands.</p>
<p>"I'll crack it with this stone," said Frankie;
and, suiting the action to the word, he laid
it upon the step and gave it a blow with the
stone.</p>
<p>One part of the much prized morsel remained
in very good condition, but the rest suffered
severely under this violent treatment, and was
reduced very nearly to powder.</p>
<p>"Just see what this horrid old stone did!"
said Frankie, looking at his work in much
disgust.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p>
<p>"Never mind," said Daisy, "you can have
the whole piece, and I'll eat the mashed."</p>
<p>The swain made a feeble resistance to this
generous offer, feeling in duty bound to do so;
but Daisy insisted, and he was so moved by
the magnitude of her self-sacrifice that he
said,—</p>
<p>"Daisy, I shall make those other girls wait
till you're dead, and marry you first, 'cause
you're the best of all the lot."</p>
<p>Here Carrie joined them, for she had soon
quitted Nellie, telling her that she was tired;
but the true reason was that she feared her
sister might say something that would force
her to confess that she had not obeyed orders
about the mice.</p>
<p>But, wherever she went, it seemed somehow
as if things would be said to make her feel
self-reproached and uncomfortable.</p>
<p>"Oh! but you're a help, Miss Carrie, and
your mother'll be proud to see the forethought
of you and Miss Nellie," said Catherine,
when Carrie brought out her last load to the
kitchen.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p>
<p>"What dear, helpful little girls I have!"
said mamma, with a loving smile, as Carrie
paused for a moment at the open door of the
library, not feeling as if she could pass it
without seeming to notice her mother, and yet
ashamed and afraid to go in. "It almost
helps me to feel stronger to see you all so considerate
and anxious to do all you can for
me."</p>
<p>Carrie smiled faintly in reply; then passed
out upon the piazza. She would be safe with
Daisy and Frankie, she thought, from speeches
that would make her feel guilty and uncomfortable.</p>
<p>But no.</p>
<p>"What shall we do now?" asked Daisy,
when the last crumb of sugar had been disposed
of.</p>
<p>"Where are the white mice? Let's play
with them a little while," said Frankie.</p>
<p>"Down in the garden-house," answered
Daisy.</p>
<p>"What a funny place to keep them!" said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
Frankie. "Let's go and bring them up
here."</p>
<p>"Oh, no! we mustn't," said Daisy: "we
can go and play wif 'em; but they can't come
here, 'cause mamma don't like 'em."</p>
<p>"We won't take them in the house, Daisy,
only out here on the piazza."</p>
<p>"No, no," said Daisy, decidedly, "not out
of the garden-house. Mamma might see 'em,
and they would make her feel, oh! dreffully!
I should fink we <i>wouldn't</i> do any fing mamma
don't like, would we, Carrie?" she added,
lifting her great, innocent eyes to her sister's
face.</p>
<p>Carrie turned quickly away without an answer,
and was glad when the next moment
the two little things ran hand in hand down
the path which led to the garden-house.</p>
<p>Carrie was not happy,—no, indeed, how
could she be? A great many uncomfortable
feelings were in her young breast just then.
Jealousy of her little sister, whom she chose
to consider more petted and indulged than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
herself; envy even of her motherless little
playmate, Belle Powers; irritation which she
dared not show against Nellie, for bidding her
take the mice to Catherine; fear that her secret
would be discovered, and the doubt what she
was to do with the mice now that she had
them: all were making her very restless and
miserable.</p>
<p>What though she did persuade herself that
Nellie had no <i>right</i> to give her orders; what
though mamma had never forbidden her to
have the mice; what though she did believe
she could keep them safely hidden in some
place where they need never trouble her
mother,—was she any the less guilty and
disobedient? And where should that place be
that she was to hide them, not only from
mamma, but from every one else?</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 88px;">
<img src="images/deco5-drooping_spiny_flower.jpg" width="88" height="69" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
<img src="images/4_baby_birds.jpg" width="350" height="204" alt="baby birds and parent" />
</div>
<h2>VII.<br />
<small><i>THE BLACK CAT.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-n_quote.jpg" width="93" height="73" alt=""N" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi">"NELLIE, dear," said Mrs. Ransom's
gentle voice at the store-room
door.</div>
<p>"Yes, mamma," answered Nellie, from the
top of a row of drawers where she had climbed
to reach some jars from a shelf above her
head.</p>
<p>"I think you have worked long enough, my
daughter; and I do not wish you to take down
those jars. Hannah is at leisure now, and she
may come and attend to the rest of the things."</p>
<p>"Oh! but mamma," pleaded Nellie, "if you
would just let me do it all myself. It would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
be so nice to tell papa that I cleared out
the store-room entirely, except the very heavy
things; and Hannah might be doing something
else that would be a help to you."</p>
<p>"It would be no help to me to have you
make yourself ill, dear; and papa would not
think it at all nice to come home and find you
tired and overworked. And it is dangerous
for you to be reaching up so high. I had
rather you would leave the rest to the servants."</p>
<p>Nellie was very sorry to stop; and for a
moment she felt a little vexed. But it was
only a fleeting cloud that passed over her face,
and almost before her mother could mark it,
it was gone. If she wanted to be a real help
to mamma, she must do as mamma wished,
even though it did not seem just the best
thing to herself. It would have been delightful,
she would have been proud to tell papa
she had done as much in the store-room as
mamma herself could have done if she had
been well and strong; but it would not prove<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
a real service if she troubled her mother, or
made her feel anxious. Nellie did not herself
think that she ran any danger of injury; but
since mamma did, there was but one thing
that was right to do.</p>
<p>"Very well, mamma," she said cheerfully,
"I'll come down," and taking the hand her
mother offered for her assistance, she descended
from her perch.</p>
<p>Still it was with a little sigh that she left
her task, as she thought, incomplete, and Mrs.
Ransom could not help seeing that it was a
disappointment to her.</p>
<p>"You look warm and tired now, dearie,"
she said, pushing back the hair caressingly
from her little daughter's flushed face, "go
upstairs and be washed and dressed. Then if
there is nothing else you prefer to do I should
very much enjoy hearing you read from one
of your new books. I feel tired, and should
like to lie on the sofa and listen to you."</p>
<p>Nellie brightened immediately, inwardly as
well as outwardly. She could be useful to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
mamma still, if she must leave the store-room;
and she ran away to remove the traces of her
late toil, and make herself neat and nice.</p>
<p>She was in her own room, washing her face,
when she heard a short, quick step running
along the hall. She thought it was Carrie's,
and called aloud, meaning to tell her she was
going to read to her mother, and to ask if she
would like to hear the story.</p>
<p>"Carrie!" she called from out of the folds
of the towel where she had just buried her
face.</p>
<p>No answer; but the step paused for a moment,
then ran on.</p>
<p>"Carrie!" this time louder and clearer, for
her voice was no longer smothered in the
towel.</p>
<p>Still no answer; but Nellie heard the door
at the foot of the garret steps softly closed.</p>
<p>"Why! how queer," she said to herself,
"what can Carrie be going up to the garret all
alone for? I don't believe it was Carrie, it
must have been Johnny going up to his printing-press
or something."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p>
<p>For Johnny was the only one of the family
who much frequented the garret, he having
a printing-press, carpenter's tools and other
possessions up there.</p>
<p>Nellie did what she could for herself; then
went into the nursery to have her dress fastened,
and sash tied.</p>
<p>"Would you stop a minute and mind baby
while I call Carrie to be dressed?" said the
nurse; "I might as well do it now, for there's
Daisy to be dressed afterwards, and I suppose
they'll both have to be hunted up."</p>
<p>"Daisy is playing somewhere with Frankie
Bradford," said Nellie; "but I thought I heard
Carrie go up to the garret a few moments ago.
But I'm not sure."</p>
<p>"I thought I heard her run along the entry,
too," said the nurse.</p>
<p>She went to the foot of the garret-stairs, and
opening the door, called Carrie three or four
times. But no answer came, and closing the
door again, she went away downstairs to look
for her.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
<p>Baby was just beginning to take notice, and
as it lay in the cradle, followed with its eyes
the bright-colored worsted ball which Nellie
dangled in front of them, cooing softly in reply
to the gentle, playful tones of its sister's
voice, as she talked "baby" to it.</p>
<p>But this did not prevent Nellie from presently
hearing again the closing of the garret
door, closed very softly as by a hand which did
not wish that the sound should be heard. Nellie
was a little startled, and it was in a tone of
some trepidation that she called again.</p>
<p>"Johnny! Carrie! who is that? Do speak."</p>
<p>A step along the hall, and Carrie appeared
at the open door of the nursery.</p>
<p>"Where did you come from? was that you
went upstairs?" questioned Nellie, looking
with surprise at Carrie's crimson, rather troubled
face.</p>
<p>"Yes, I went upstairs," answered Carrie.</p>
<p>"And didn't you hear Ruth calling you?"
asked Nellie.</p>
<p>"I'm not going to be screeched all over the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
house by the servants. I should think I was
big enough to go where I chose," muttered
Carrie, turning away.</p>
<p>"You needn't go away. Ruth wants to
dress you," said Nellie. "She'll just bring
you back. Just see how cunning the baby is,"
for she saw Carrie was out of humor, and
would have tried to soothe and interest her.</p>
<p>"I want Daisy to be dressed first," said
Carrie, who was evidently anxious to be away.
"I'm going to see if she can't."</p>
<p>"Daisy is with Frankie, and mamma won't
make her come," said Nellie. "I wouldn't
bother mamma about it, Carrie, she's lying
down."</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, Daisy always has to have every
thing <i>she</i> wants," said Carrie, coming reluctantly
into the room, but keeping away on the
other side, "and I shan't have <i>you</i> telling me
all the time what to do and what not to do.
I haven't got to mind you."</p>
<p>The parti-colored ball remained motionless in
Nellie's fingers, as she gazed in surprise at her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
sister, who walking to the window, planted
her elbow on the sill, and her chin in her
hand; the very picture of a sulky, ill-humored
child.</p>
<p>Nellie could not think what she meant by
her ugly speech. She had spoken very gently
to Carrie, and without any undue authority,
either of tone or manner, meaning only to
suggest, not to command. But perhaps Carrie
thought she had taken too much upon herself
in the store-room. That was unreasonable,
for she had come there of her own accord,
begging that she might be allowed to help, and
seeming quite ready to put herself under Nellie's
orders. Yes, that must be it, and Nellie
herself felt a little resentment at her sister's
behavior.</p>
<p>But it was not Nellie's way to speak when
she was angry; she waited till she could do so
without temper, and then said gently.</p>
<p>"But, Carrie, dear, you know some one had
to—" give orders she was about to say, but wise
little woman that she was, changed the obnoxious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
word—"had to say what was to be
done, and mamma put me in charge there
'cause I am her housekeeper now. I had to
tell you what to do with every thing."</p>
<p>Nellie could not help—what little girl could
have helped?—a slight consciousness of authority
and satisfaction in her position as
mamma's right hand woman; but Carrie did
not notice that so much as her words, which
brought fresh cause for uneasiness to her
guilty conscience. What "things" did Nellie
mean? The mice?</p>
<p>"Is Johnny upstairs?" asked Nellie, receiving
no answer to her last speech, but still
wishing to make peace.</p>
<p>"I should think you'd know he hadn't come
home from school," snapped Carrie.</p>
<p>"I forgot; I really don't know at all what
time it is," said Nellie. "What were you
doing upstairs then?"</p>
<p>"Let me be," was the answer Carrie gave
to this; and Nellie was silent, feeling, indeed,
that in such a mood she was best let alone.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p>
<p>Little she guessed of the cause of all this ill-temper,
however.</p>
<p>For what had Carrie been doing upstairs?
Can you imagine?</p>
<p>Watching her opportunity when she thought
no one was observing her, she had run to the
wood-closet, seized the box containing the
mice; and had actually been naughty enough
to bring it upstairs, carry it away to the garret,
and there hide it behind some old furniture.</p>
<p>But now what was she to do with the mice?
How was she to tame them, now that she had
them? What pleasure or good could they be
to her?</p>
<p>How she wished that she had done as Nellie
told her, and taken the box at once to Catherine.
Now she was afraid to do it.</p>
<p>And yet she tried to persuade herself that
there was no reason she should not have the
mice as long as she kept them out of mamma's
way; that she had as much right to decide
what was to be done with them as Nellie; that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
it was not fair that Daisy should keep her pets
any more than herself.</p>
<p>But why, if all this were true, did Carrie fear
to betray her secret; why was she so guilty
and miserable?</p>
<p>Presently Ruth returned, rather incensed at
finding Carrie in the nursery, and at having
had "so much trouble for nothing."</p>
<p>Neither nurse nor child being in a very
good humor, the process of dressing Carrie was
not likely to be a very pleasant one; and seeing
this, and that baby was growing restless,
Nellie thought she had better wait till it was
accomplished.</p>
<p>There was need for the children to be helpful
and obliging in Mrs. Ransom's nursery.
Pour little girls, one a young infant, who all
required more or less care, to say nothing of
the occasional calls of their brothers, gave
enough to do; and as their now invalid mother
was able to assist but little, it was necessary
that the older ones should learn to help themselves
and one another.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>
<p>Daisy, in spite of the floods of tears which
had been so frequent until within the last few
days since she had taken so much pains to
check them, was, as Ruth said, "the blessedest
child to have to do with," giving no trouble
beyond what her tender age required; patient,
obliging, and winsome. Nellie was generally
ready to give any assistance that was needed,
to tend baby awhile, put Daisy to bed, or any
other little office not too hard for her; and few
little girls of her age do as much for themselves
as she was accustomed to do. And
since she had resolved to give all the help she
could to mamma, she did all this pleasantly
and cheerfully; often, as in the present case,
not waiting to be asked, but taking up the
small duty of her own free will.</p>
<p>"She's the wisest head of her age ever I
saw, has Miss Nellie," the admiring nurse
would say to Mrs. Ransom, when some little
thoughtful act had lightened her labors, or put
aside the necessity of calling upon her feeble
mistress.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>
<p>But poor Carrie had neither Nellie's gentle
consideration, nor Daisy's sunny temper, and
when, as now, she was not in a good humor,
she was a sore trial to the nurse; and seeing
that there was every probability of a stormy
time, Nellie decided to stay and amuse the
baby till Ruth should be at leisure to take it.
Mamma would rather wait for her than to be
called upstairs by baby's cries.</p>
<p>It was as she had feared. In three minutes
a battle royal was raging between Carrie and
the nurse.</p>
<p>It did not call Mrs. Ransom up to the nursery,
as Nellie feared it would; but it brought
her to the foot of the stairs, whence she
called to Carrie in a tone of more sadness
than severity; and Carrie did look and feel
ashamed, when Ruth remarked,—</p>
<p>"See there now, how you're worrying your
mother. Daisy wouldn't do that."</p>
<p>But although she now submitted to be dressed,
it was still with pouting looks, and much
pettish twisting and wriggling, making Ruth's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
task no light one, and taking far more time
than it would have done if Carrie had been
patient and amiable. But how could she be
patient and good-humored with that uncomfortable
secret weighing on her mind?</p>
<p>Presently, Daisy came running up to the
nursery.</p>
<p>"Where's Frankie?" asked Nellie, seeing
that she was alone.</p>
<p>"Gone home. Jane came for him," answered
Daisy, "and mamma told Jane to ask
Maggie's and Bessie's mamma to let them
come and play with you this afternoon; and
Frankie said he'd just as lieve come back too;
and mamma said he could. But, O Nellie!
what do you fink? a great big, ugly, black cat
came in the garden-house, and she was so
saucy she was looking at my white mice."</p>
<p>"Was she? Oh, dear!" said Nellie. "Is
she there now, Daisy?"</p>
<p>"No, no," said Daisy, "we wouldn't let her
stay. Frankie shu'ed her way far off, and
chased her wif a stick, and she put up her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
back at him, and was mad at him; but he
wasn't 'f'aid of her, not a bit. Nellie, do black
cats eat white mice?"</p>
<p>"I don't know," said Nellie looking uneasy.
"Do they, Ruth?"</p>
<p>"You may trust any cat to do that, if she
gets the chance," said Ruth. "Daisy, my
pet, did you shut the door of the garden-house
after you?"</p>
<p>"Yes, always I shut it, 'fear mamma might
some way see the mice," answered Daisy.
"But the black cat's gone quite, quite away,
Nellie."</p>
<p>"She might come back if she has seen the
mice, and try to come at them," said Nellie in
a low tone to the nurse.</p>
<p>"It is what I was thinking," said Ruth.</p>
<p>"I'm going to take baby out for a bit when
I have these two dressed, and I'll just walk
down that way and see that all's right. It
would just break that lamb's heart if aught
happened to her mice. I'll get along nicely
now if you want to go, Miss Nellie. Daisy's
no trouble."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>
<p>Baby delighted in Daisy as a playmate, and
was now crowing in the most satisfied manner
as she danced back and forth before her; clapping
her hands and exclaiming, "Jackins and
forwis, jackins and forwis." The interpretation
of these mysterious words being, "backwards
and forwards."</p>
<p>Nellie went downstairs, and explained to
her mother why she had delayed, without
making any complaint of Carrie. She told
her also of the black cat, and said she felt uneasy
about Daisy's white mice, and thought
she would go and see that the creature had
not returned.</p>
<p>Mrs. Ransom herself was disturbed when
she heard of the unwelcome intruder upon the
premises, for she, too, feared danger to Daisy's
pets.</p>
<p>Her anxiety and Nellie's proved too well
founded; for when the latter reached the
garden-house, she discovered the black cat
forcing her way under the door, there being
quite an open space between that and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
ground, as the little building was old and
somewhat out of repair. Nellie drove the cat
away once more, and put a board against the
aperture; but she could not but feel that
Daisy's pets were in much danger, and she
could not bear to think of her distress if such
a terrible fate befel them.</p>
<p>"I think the mice had better be brought up
to the house, Nellie," said Mrs. Ransom, when
Nellie returned and made her report.</p>
<p>Carrie heard, for she had come downstairs,
meanwhile, and fresh jealousy of Daisy took
possession of her.</p>
<p>"Mamma don't care if Daisy has <i>her</i> mice
in the house," she said to herself, "so I might
just as well have mine upstairs. One is no
worse than the other."</p>
<p>Carrie was doing her best to drown her remorseful
feelings, and to persuade herself that
she was doing nothing wrong and undutiful,
trying rather to feel injured and martyr-like;
but it was up-hill work with her own conscience.
For although she was a little apt to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
be jealous of the other children, and fretful at
times, she was very seldom disobedient or regardless
of her mother's wishes, and she had
not had one easy moment since she had
hidden the mice. But for all that, she was
determined to think herself hardly used, and
Daisy preferred to herself. And it seemed to
her as if Nellie must know and meant to reproach
her, when she said in answer to her
mother's last words,—</p>
<p>"Oh, no, mamma! it would never do to
have the mice brought into the house, and you
made uncomfortable. I am sure Daisy would
never wish to do that, no matter what became
of the white mice."</p>
<p>"But I can't have the poor creatures destroyed
by that cat," said Mrs. Ransom,
uneasily.</p>
<p>"No," said Nellie, "but perhaps we could—"
she hesitated, not knowing what plan
to advise.</p>
<p>"As soon as the boys come home we will see
if they can find any way to make the garden-house
secure," said her mother.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p>
<p>Ten minutes later, when Nellie had settled
down to her reading, but with thoughts which
would wander away to the garden-house,
white mice and black cat, the boys came in
from school, and were speedily made acquainted
with the facts of the case.</p>
<p>This was nuts for Johnny and Bob; and
true to that aversion with which every well
regulated boy-mind must regard all animals
of her species, away they rushed in search of
the black cat, intending to take the direst vengeance
upon her, if they caught her again
threatening Daisy's darlings.</p>
<p>And there she was once more, this time
forcing her way beneath the wall of the slight
structure, which, never very strong even in
its best days, was now fast tumbling into
decay, and presented many an aperture and
crack passable to cats, or other small animals.</p>
<p>She saw the boys, however, before they
could catch her; and, either knowing that she
was trespassing, or instinctively aware of what
would befall her if she fell into their hands,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
she fled before them, and was presently out of
their reach.</p>
<p>Bob and Johnny soon came to the conclusion
that the garden-house was no longer a safe
shelter for the white mice. Although it did
present a pretty appearance from the outside,
covered as it was with flowering vines, it was
so thoroughly ruinous that they found it would
take at least two or three days to make it
at all secure against a determined and greedy
pussy. They might watch and keep her away
in the daytime; but what was to be done at
night?</p>
<p>No, Daisy's pets could no longer be left
there, if they were to be saved from pussy's
clutches.</p>
<p>The boys went back to the house and reported;
asking their mother what they should
do, for there seemed to be no other proper or
convenient place for the white mice.</p>
<p>"I'll think about it," said Mrs. Ransom,
who was trying to make up her mind to allow
the mice to be brought into the house, "and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
will tell you what to do after dinner. Will
they be safe till then, do you think?"</p>
<p>"Yes, mamma," answered Johnny, "for
we set Rover to watch there, and he'll see after
that old beast if she comes around again, but
we can't keep him there all day, and she's sure
to do it some time, if we leave the mice there."</p>
<p>"Don't trouble Daisy about it," said Mrs.
Ransom, "there is no need to tell her just
now."</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 99px;">
<img src="images/deco6-leaf_two_flowers.jpg" width="99" height="81" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 359px;">
<img src="images/2_bird_in_different_nest.jpg" width="359" height="199" alt="birds" />
</div>
<h2>VIII.<br />
<small><i>DAISY'S SACRIFICE.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-r.jpg" width="72" height="72" alt="R" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi4">ROVER had to be released by and by
after dinner, of course, but it did not
seem to matter so much by that time,
for Daisy went to her pets, and the cat would
not dare to come near them so long as she was
there.</div>
<p>So every one believed; but this proved to be
a mistake, for puss was more persistent and
daring than any one would have thought
possible.</p>
<p>"Johnny," said Mrs. Ransom, when Daisy
had gone, "could you not arrange some place
up in the garret where Daisy could keep her
mice and they need not come in my way?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p>
<p>"It is just what I was thinking of, mamma,"
said Johnny; "you need never know
they were there."</p>
<p>"There now," said Carrie to herself, "so
it is no harm at all for me to have my mice up
there. I shall just keep them."</p>
<p>For repentant resolutions of giving up her
hidden prize, and disposing of it in some way
without betraying herself, were flitting through
Carrie's mind; but now she put them from her
again.</p>
<p>"First, we'll see if we cannot knock up
some sort of a support to hold a hook in the
garden-house," said Johnny, "and then we'll
hang the cage upon that. The roof is so old
and broken it will not hold; but we may put
something in the wall to keep the cage out of
the cat's reach, and we'll try it before we
bring them in the house, mamma."</p>
<p>Daisy fed her mice, as she generally did at
this time of the day,—the little creatures
nibbled their food right out of her hand—played
with and fondled them, talking to them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
the while in a coaxing, crooning voice of all
her affairs, unconscious of the cruel, greedy
eyes which were watching her every motion
and those of her pets.</p>
<p>For Rover having gone, puss had made the
most of her opportunities, and came creeping
slowly and stealthily beneath bushes and behind
walls, till she reached the garden-house
once more; and climbing to the roof sat
watching the little child and her playthings
through a hole in the thatch.</p>
<p>And, by and by, this naughty <i>bête noir</i>
thought her chance had come.</p>
<p>"Now, you ducky darlin's," said Daisy,
"I b'lieve it's time for Frankie to come back
to my house and play wif me. So you must
go in your cage while I go and see, and we'll
come back and play here where you can see us.
No, you needn't want to go into the house wif
me. Mamma don't like you, which is a great,
great pity; but she can't help it."</p>
<p>The mice seemed strangely reluctant to go
back in their cage, whether it was that they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
only scented their watchful enemy, or that
they had caught a glimpse of the glittering
eyes looking down upon them; for one, with a
squeak of terror, fled into the depths of
Daisy's pocket, and the other would have followed
had she not caught him in her hand and
stopped him.</p>
<p>"No, no," she said, "you'll have to go into
your cage, Dot, and you too, Ditto. Peoples
have to do what they don't want to sometimes,
and so do mouses. I've found that out," and
Daisy shook her head with the air of one who
has made a novel and important discovery.</p>
<p>She put the mice into the cage, where they
speedily hid themselves beneath their bed,
shut and fastened the door and set it upon the
floor, believing that she would return in a
moment with Frankie and let them out
again.</p>
<p>Then she ran away to the house, where, as
she had expected, she found Frankie who had
just arrived with his sisters, Maggie and Bessie.
They had not cared to wait till their mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
came to take Mrs. Ransom to drive, but had
begged and received permission to walk over
that they might have the longer afternoon for
their visit.</p>
<p>Daisy and Frankie were off together immediately,
and the four elder children were settling
the question of "what shall we do first?"
when the whole household were startled by a
succession of fearful shrieks from Daisy, accompanied
by shouts of defiance and threats
from Frankie. The sounds came from the
garden-house; and Daisy's cry was not the
dismal, low wail she set up at times over some
minor trouble, but an unmistakable scream of
terror and pain.</p>
<p>Away ran every one to see what was the
matter; mother, brothers and sisters, guests
and servants; even Ruth, baby in arms, tearing
down the stairs to follow the rest.</p>
<p>The garden-house reached, the trouble
proved not as serious as might have been
feared; but quite enough so to warrant all
the uproar from the two distressed little ones.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p>
<p>There crouched Daisy in an ecstasy of terror,
bending over her white mice, which she
held cuddled up in her lap; never ceasing her
screams and calls for help, while Frankie
brandishing a hoe stood boldly between her
and the black cat, which with glaring eyes,
back erect, stood spitting and growling at the
two children, determined no longer to be
balked of her prey. For this was no tame puss
accustomed to be fed, and having a comfortable
home; but a wild, stray cat, half-starved,
and now quite furious at seeing her intended
prize once more rescued.</p>
<p>Not fairly rescued, if she could help it.
Long waiting for the dainty meal and many
disappointments had made her desperate; and
more than once she had nearly sprung past
the brave little Frankie, who, resolute as the
brute herself, fairly stood his ground, and
faced her at every turn, calling aloud,—</p>
<p>"Hi! you there! you'd better be off with
yourself. Now, you; you'll catch it! I'll give
it to you! I'll hoe you if you don't look out!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
You want to be hoed, do you? I won't let her
get them, Daisy. Run, Daisy, run!"</p>
<p>But Daisy was past running; terror had
taken all power from her save that of shielding
her pets, as she best could, against her
bosom, and shrieking aloud for help.</p>
<p>It was well that help was so close at hand,
or the situation of the two little ones might
indeed have become dangerous; but at the
sight of so many flocking to the rescue, the
cat turned and fled, pursued by the boys with
stones and sticks,—and who could blame them
in such a case as this?—but escaped without
much hurt from the missiles which they threw
with better will than aim.</p>
<p>The story was soon told: how, coming to
the garden-house and pushing open the door,
the first thing that presented itself to the eyes
of Daisy and Frankie was the black cat, with
one paw actually in the cage, the mice squeaking
in terror, and shrinking from the cruel
claws outstretched for their destruction; how
Frankie had snatched the cage away, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>
mice had immediately fled to the protection of
Daisy's bosom, whence the cat had once tried
to tear them.</p>
<p>How the brave little knight had fought her
off, and then tried to stand between his tiny
lady-love and farther harm, the new-comers
had seen for themselves; how devotedly Daisy
herself had clung to her darlings, and how
furious their enemy had been, was testified by
the poor little woman's torn and scratched
arm, bleeding from the adversary's claws, and
the bent and twisted bars of the cage.</p>
<p>It was plainly to be seen that the garden-house
was no longer a safe place for the white
mice, not even until such time as the boys
could arrange some contrivance for hanging
up the cage; and now Mrs. Ransom almost
forgot her dread of them in her sympathy over
her poor little girl's distress and bleeding
arms.</p>
<p>Poor little dimpled white arms! even now
they would not relax their sheltering hold of
the white mice, but held them firmly clasped.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p>
<p>Daisy was speedily carried to the house, and
once more seated, white mice and all, on her
mother's lap, while her scratches were bathed
and bound up.</p>
<p>"A wag on it" was Daisy's sovereign
remedy for every thing in the shape of a
wound or bruise.</p>
<p>"Let me put your mice away, darling,"
said Nellie, ever mindful of her mother's
antipathy.</p>
<p>"Oh, no! don't take 'em out. Mamma
might see 'em, and she can't bear 'em," sobbed
Daisy, holding the little skirt tighter than ever.
"And oh, dear! I b'lieve I'll have to give
'em back to Frankie, 'cause I can't let 'em live
in the garden-house for that black old dreadful
cat to eat them up, and I s'pose mamma
wouldn't want <i>me</i> to live there all the time,
even with some one to take care of me."</p>
<p>No, indeed, mamma thought not, as she
folded the darling closer in her arms, and bade
her cry no more; for her white mice should
come into the house, and the boys should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
arrange a place for them where they would be
quite safe from black cats and other enemies.</p>
<p>To see the change in Daisy's face!</p>
<p>"Mamma! don't you mind? don't you
weally mind? Won't they trouble you?"</p>
<p>It was not possible for Mrs. Ransom to say
that she would not be annoyed by the presence
of the white mice in the house, even though
they might never come under her own eye;
and, although for Daisy's sake she put aside
her own feelings, the loving heart of the little
one detected the slight reluctance with which
she spoke.</p>
<p>"Mamma couldn't have your white mice
destroyed, darling," she answered; "and if
Daisy is so careful for mamma, mamma must
be careful for Daisy. So let the mice come
Suppose you let Nellie take them now."</p>
<p>Opening her skirt, Daisy revealed the mice,
still trembling and quivering with their fright;
and, seeking to hide themselves, the one made
for the bosom of her dress, the other unluckily
ran over mamma's lap looking for some place<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
of refuge. Johnny's hand was over him in an
instant, but not before his mother had grown
white to the lips, and in spite of a strong effort
she could not control a shudder of disgust.
This did not escape Daisy.</p>
<p>"Better put 'em away, quick, 'way far off,
Johnny," she said in a pitiful little voice, and
resigning the other mouse to his care; and
Johnny carried both away.</p>
<p>Daisy was used to petting; but in consequence
of her misfortunes, and the honorable
wounds she had received in the skirmish, she
was so overwhelmed with attentions and caresses,
not only from her own family, but also
from Maggie and Bessie, that she was presently
consoled, and beguiled from mamma's lap to
the piazza, where she was seated in state among
her admirers, and continued to be made much
of.</p>
<p>Frankie also came in for a share of the
honors he had so fairly won by his heroic
defence of his little lady-love and her property;
but he presently concluded he had had enough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
of them, and would like to go upstairs with
the older boys and watch them at their work.
He would fain have persuaded Daisy to go with
him, but she still remained mournful and subdued,
and preferred to stay with the little girls
and be petted.</p>
<p>For there was a great weight on Daisy's
little mind, and a great purpose working there,—a
purpose which required much resolution
and much self-sacrifice; and it was hard to
bring her courage to the point. She had small
thought for what the other children were saying,
as she sat nestled close to Nellie's side,
with her sister's arm about her, and one of
Bessie's hands clasped in her own.</p>
<p>Carrie's thoughts were not more easy than
Daisy's, and they were far less innocent. She
was in an agony lest the boys, who were now
in the garret, should discover her secret. And
there was Frankie with them! Frankie, who
had a faculty for finding that which he was
not intended to find, for seeing that which
he was not intended to see, for hearing that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
which he was not intended to hear; who, full
of mischief and curiosity, went poking and prying
everywhere, and whose bright eyes and
busy fingers would, she feared, be sure to
fasten themselves upon the hidden box. But
she dared not follow the boys upstairs, for
it would seem strange if she left Maggie and
Bessie, and her doing so might excite questions.</p>
<p>Oh that she had never touched the mice, or
had at once obeyed Nellie's directions respecting
them, which Carrie's conscience told her
now, as it had at the time, was the same as if
her mother had given them!</p>
<p>"Nellie and Carrie," said Maggie, "what do
you think we are doing, Bessie and I?"</p>
<p>"We don't know. What?" said Nellie.</p>
<p>"Guess," answered Maggie.</p>
<p>"Oh! I'm not good at guessing," said Nellie,
smiling. "I never guessed any thing or answered
a conundrum in my life, except some
of Daisy's;" and she drew her arm closer
about the pensive little mortal at her side.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p>
<p>Daisy's conundrums were many and various,
some so very transparent that she might as
well have given the answer with the question,
others so extremely bewildering that Œdipus
himself could scarcely have unravelled their
meaning; and it was in these last that
she gloried, always feeling rather aggrieved
if any one gave the right answer.</p>
<p>"She gave a conundrum last night that
none of us could guess," continued Nellie,
wishing to amuse and interest her little sister.
"See if Maggie and Bessie can guess it now,
Daisy."</p>
<p>Daisy aroused a little from her melancholy,
and said in a plaintive voice,—</p>
<p>"Why don't a pig wif a ni'gown on him
want to go to the kitchen fire?"</p>
<p>Maggie and Bessie gave up at once, knowing
that this would be Daisy's preference; besides
being really quite at a loss to understand why
a pig in such unusual attire should shun that
particular spot, "the kitchen fire."</p>
<p>"Because he's af'aid he'll burn his ni'gown,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
said Daisy, when she was called upon for the
answer, which Maggie and Bessie pronounced
"very good;" and, being encouraged by her
success, the pitiful little damsel put forth
another conundrum, having reference to the
subject which was weighing so heavily on her
mind.</p>
<p>"Here's anofer one," she said: "Why don't
white mice like to live in the garden-house?"</p>
<p>"Because they are afraid the black cat will
eat them," said Carrie, less mindful of her
sister's prejudices than Maggie and Bessie had
been.</p>
<p>"Now, why did you guess it so soon?" said
the affronted Daisy; and this proving the drop
too much in the already overflowing cup, her
head went down in Nellie's lap, and she resigned
herself to tears once more.</p>
<p>None of the other children dreamed of the
chief trouble which was weighing on her little
heart; but her misfortunes of the afternoon
were considered so serious that no one thought
it at all strange that she should be in a melancholy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
state of mind. Still, silent sympathy, at
present, seemed the best to Nellie, and she
contented herself with softly caressing the bent
head, and checked the others with uplifted
finger when they would have cheered Daisy
with spoken words.</p>
<p>"Talk about something else," she spelled
out in the sign alphabet, and then asked
aloud,—</p>
<p>"What is it you and Bessie are doing,
Maggie?"</p>
<p>"Making such lovely Christmas presents for
mamma," answered Maggie.</p>
<p>"What! already?" said Carrie.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Maggie, "because it will take
us so long to work it, and we have lots besides
to do. And then some dreadful accident
might happen to us to prevent our finishing it,
you know, like Sir Percy nearly putting out
Lily Norris' eye; so it's best to take time by
the forelock at once, even if it is only July."</p>
<p>"What are you making?" asked Nellie.</p>
<p>"A pair of brackets, the loveliest things,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>
answered Maggie, with emphasis. "Bessie is
filling up one, and I the other."</p>
<p>"And we are going to have them made up
ourselves, quite ourselves, out of our own
money," said Bessie. "Nellie, why wouldn't
you like to make something for your mamma
of your own work? You can do worsted work
so very nicely."</p>
<p>"I would like to very much," said Nellie.
"And I have some money of my own that I
could use."</p>
<p>"I shall do it too," said Carrie.</p>
<p>"If you would like to do the same thing that
we are doing," said Maggie, "Mrs. Finkenstadt
has another pair of brackets nearly
like ours, and at the same price. They are
very pretty."</p>
<p>"But I'm afraid"—began Nellie, then
paused.</p>
<p>"Not that you don't know how," said Maggie;
"why, Nellie, every one knows you work
better than any of us."</p>
<p>"I was thinking if I would have time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
enough," said Nellie, "now that I am mamma's
housekeeper. It takes up a good deal
of time; and then—and then"—</p>
<p>"Oh! it's your old books," said Carrie.
"I should think you might be willing to give
them up to make something pretty for mamma.
If you didn't study so much more than any of
the other girls, you could do it very well. I
think you might make one; for then I could do
the other, if you would show me how."</p>
<p>"I'll show you how and help you all I can,"
said Nellie, "but I do not think I shall try to
do one myself. And it's not because of my
studies, Carrie, but for another reason that
I'd rather not tell."</p>
<p>"Mamma would just as lief let you give up
being her housekeeper if you want to do something
else for her," said Carrie.</p>
<p>"I don't want her to," answered Nellie,
"for—I do believe I am of use to mamma,
and I would not like to put that off for something
that is not necessary. Besides, I have
still another reason."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p>
<p>"I'm sure I think it seems a great deal more
to make a lovely Christmas present for mamma
than to do housekeeping for her. I believe
she'd rather," said Carrie.</p>
<p>"I don't believe so," answered Nellie.</p>
<p>"And, Carrie," said Maggie, "very often in
this world we have to put up with appearances
being deceitful, and with knowing not only
that 'all is not gold that glitters,' but also that
some very true gold does not glitter at all;
and Nellie's private reason may be very true
gold, indeed, without our seeing it glitter.
Besides, mamma says Nellie is one of the most
sensible little girls she ever saw; and I believe
she is a case of 'old head on young shoulders,'
so we may as well think that she is wise and
right until we know differently."</p>
<p>Maggie's fine speech, overflowing as it was
with proverbs, silenced Carrie, as her wise
sayings did usually silence her companions,
who did not command such a flow of ideas
and language; and Nellie gave her a grateful
look.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p>
<p>"Here's mamma in the carriage to take out
your mamma," said Bessie; and the attention
of the children was for the moment diverted
from their own affairs.</p>
<p>"Will you go and drive too, Daisy?" said
Mrs. Bradford.</p>
<p>"No, fank you, ma'am," answered Daisy,
much to the astonishment of the other children,
as she raised her woe-begone little face
from its resting-place. For Daisy was generally
very ready for a drive, or for an outing of
any kind.</p>
<p>But now to all their persuasions, to all their
expressions of surprise, she remained perfectly
immovable, only blinking her eyes very hard,
pursing up her rosy lips, and shaking her head,
in the most deplorable manner possible.</p>
<p>But the cause of this came out when Mrs.
Bradford and Mrs. Ransom had gone; for as
the carriage drove away the boys came running
downstairs and out upon the piazza.</p>
<p>"Now your white mice will be all safe,
Daisy," said Frankie; "me and Johnny and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
Bob have made the first-ratest place for them
up in the garret. I'd like to see that old cat
finding them up there. Come and see how
nice it is."</p>
<p>"It's no matter about it," said Daisy.
"You're all very good, and I'm very obliged
to you; but I wouldn't feel to keep my mice
up in the garret."</p>
<p>"What are you going to do with them
then?" asked Johnny.</p>
<p>"I couldn't have 'em in the house when
mamma feels so about it," said Daisy, choking
back a sob, and trying to be very brave.</p>
<p>"She said you could," said Bob.</p>
<p>"Yes, I know she did," answered Daisy;
"but she don't like it, I know she don't, and
so I'm going to give 'em back to Frankie."</p>
<p>"But, Daisy"—began Johnny.</p>
<p>"No, no," said Daisy, putting out a little
hand to stop him, "don't speak to me about it,
Johnny, 'cause I do feel so very bad, then
maybe I wouldn't; and I should fink a little
girl who wouldn't rafer please her mamma<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
than to have white mice must be the naughtiest
little girl in the world."</p>
<p>"You dear little thing!" exclaimed Maggie.</p>
<p>"I don't believe mamma would care at all
so long as she never saw them," said Bob;
"do you, Nellie?"</p>
<p>Nellie hesitated.</p>
<p>"I do think she would <i>care</i>," she answered
reluctantly, for Daisy's wistful eyes were
raised to her face, as if hoping for an encouraging
answer; "but she has made up her
mind to bear it for Daisy's sake."</p>
<p>"But I don't want her to do any more sake
for me," sighed Daisy. "I'd better do sake for
her, I should fink; and please don't speak any
more about it, children. I'd like to have 'em
to play wif down here till mamma comes
home; and then I'll give 'em back to Frankie
for ever an' ever an' ever. That was why I
wouldn't go and drive, so I could say good by
to 'em."</p>
<p>Nellie did not oppose her self-sacrificing
resolution, hard as she knew it was for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>
child; for she was sure that her mamma would
never feel easy while the creatures were in the
house, and she was sure also that in some
way she would make it up to Daisy.</p>
<p>Not that Daisy had any such idea. No,
in giving up her mice she did it without any
thought of payment, only to save mamma from
annoyance and discomfort, a great and generous
sacrifice for such a little child; for Daisy
was but five years old, you must remember;
and this showed thought and consideration
worthy of a much older person. But then
Daisy always had been remarkable for her
tender, clinging love for her mother, and her
earnest desire to please her in all things.</p>
<p>It struck all the other children; and they
overwhelmed her with caresses and expressions
of admiration and affection; even bluff
Bob, who seldom condescended to bestow much
flattering notice upon his sisters, declaring,—</p>
<p>"Well, you are a little brick, Daisy."</p>
<p>It was pleasant to be so petted and admired,
for Daisy dearly loved praise, and in all this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
she found consolation, and began to put on
little airs and graces befitting a heroine.</p>
<p>Dear little lamb! who would quarrel with
her if she did?</p>
<p>How hard it went with her might be seen by
the working of the sweet face, the pitiful pressure
of the tiny hands one against the other,
the swimming eyes and choking voice.</p>
<p>It was too much for Carrie.</p>
<p>The contrast between her own conduct and
that of her little sister was more than her uneasy
conscience could bear; secret remorse
and shame overwhelmed her, and with a quick
resolve to be "as good as Daisy," and sacrifice
her own wishes to her mother's prejudices, she
slipped away from the other children, and ran
upstairs, determined to put the gray mice out
of the way.</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 109px;">
<img src="images/deco1-drooping-flower.jpg" width="109" height="74" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 319px;">
<img src="images/3_bird_on_branch.jpg" width="319" height="176" alt="bird on branch" />
</div>
<h2>IX.<br />
<small><i>MAKING GINGER-CAKES.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-b.jpg" width="74" height="75" alt="B" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi4">BUT how?</div>
<p>Ah! there it was. That which
would have been easy and simple
enough in the beginning, had she but done as
she should, and taken the mice at once to the
cook, was now a great trouble and difficulty.</p>
<p>For if she took them to Catherine now, the
cook would ask where she had found them,
and put other questions which she would not
wish to answer; for that would involve a confession
she had no mind to make, penitent
though she was, or thought herself.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p>
<p>And how was she to put the mice out of the
way herself? She could not tell what to do
with them. Should she carry the box off
somewhere, away to the woods or down on the
shore, and let the mice out there?</p>
<p>But then again, if she did this, she must
leave the other children, her little guests
Maggie and Bessie, too; and this would excite
wonder and curiosity; more than that, she was
not allowed to go out of their own grounds
alone. She might perhaps hide them in the
garden-house if she could but contrive to escape
the eyes of her companions for a few
moments, but no, the black cat might return
in search of Daisy's pets, and her own fall
victims to the creature. No, that plan would
never answer; but what should she do? Oh!
if she only had known beforehand what trouble
and unhappiness her momentary disobedience
and deceit would bring upon her, she
would never, never have yielded to temptation,
and hidden the mice. Why had she not
taken time to think about all this?</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p>
<p>Ah, Carrie, there it is. If we only knew
beforehand, if we only could foresee the consequences
of our wrong-doing, the misery and
punishment we shall bring upon ourselves, perhaps
upon others, how careful it would make
us to avoid the sin! But the pleasure comes
first, the punishment after, when it is too late;
and nothing is left but repentance and regret.</p>
<p>Carrie had run up to the garret once more,
hastily taken the box from its hiding-place,
and brought it down to the room next her
mother's, which she and Nellie shared. There
she stood now, a most unhappy little girl, as
such thoughts as these chased one another
through her mind, trying to think of some
plan for ridding herself of the mice, but obliged
to reject first one and then another.</p>
<p>What was she to do?</p>
<p>She was in dread this very moment lest the
other children should come upstairs and find
her there with her dreadful secret; yes, it was
dreadful to Carrie now; and she felt almost
angry at the innocent little mice.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p>
<p>You have all heard of the unhappy man
who was very anxious to have an elephant,
and at last won one in a raffle; but the moment
it was his own he did not know what to
do with it, and would have been glad to have
some one take it off his hands. Those mice
were as bad as so many elephants to poor
Carrie, and oh, how she wished that she had
never seen them! <i>Seen</i> them! She had not
even done that! Only <i>heard</i> them as they
rustled in their prison-house; not very satisfactory
payment certainly for all the pain
and trouble she had gone through ever since
she had taken them. The man at least could
<i>see</i> his elephant, but her mice she had only
<i>heard</i>.</p>
<p>And what a rustling and scratching and
gnawing they were making now within the
box which stood on the table before her,
where she regarded it with puzzled, troubled
face, wishing it and its occupants a thousand
miles away!</p>
<p>There was a little hole near the bottom of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>
the box: had the mice gnawed it, trying to
make their escape? And how had they come
in the box, and how many were there? What
a noise they made!</p>
<p>Forgetting her anxieties for one moment,
Carrie took up the box again, put her eye
to the hole, and tried to peep within. But it
was useless, she could see nothing; and now
the mice, frightened by her movements, were
as quiet,—well, as quiet as only mice can be
under such circumstances.</p>
<p>Carrie thought she would open the lid of the
box a little and peep within, just a very little
bit, not far enough for the mice to escape, but
so she could see how many were there, and
what they looked like. Mice were such dear
little things!</p>
<p>No sooner said than done. She raised the
lid, cautiously and very slightly at first, then
a little farther, when, quick as thought, a
mouse sprang through the opening, and in a
second of time was gone.</p>
<p>Carrie gave a start as sudden; the box fell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
from her hands, the cover rolled off, and there
were four or five little mice tearing wildly
about the room, seeking each one for a hiding-place,
but rather bewildered by finding themselves
so abruptly turned out from their old
home, and scattered abroad upon the wide
world.</p>
<p>But perhaps you would like to hear how the
mice had come to be in the box, and I will let
you know. The mice never told <i>me</i>; but I
know for all that, and this was the way.</p>
<p>Mother Nibble, having strayed into the
house one day, made her way into the store-room,
and there found this box with the lid
partly open, a fine stock of chocolate and
barley within, and plenty of soft, tender paper;
and made up her mind that here would be a
quiet, well-provisioned house in which to bring
up her young family.</p>
<p>And here they had remained undisturbed
until that very morning, when Nellie, putting
her store-room to rights, had chanced to
discover them, and, closing them down in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
sudden imprisonment, had sent them to a fate
from which Carrie's naughtiness had saved
them.</p>
<p>And they had escaped now, every one of
them, and were scampering here and there
before Carrie's startled eyes.</p>
<p>Another moment, and they were gone, hidden
safely away in nooks and crannies such as
only mice could find.</p>
<p>But they were out at large. Here in this
very room next to mamma's; even worse,
Carrie had seen one run through the open
door into mamma's own bedroom! What was
she to do? Suppose her mother should see
him, find him anywhere, even hear him scratching
and nibbling on her own premises! She
had seen enough of her mother's nervous terror
of a mouse, strange, even needless it might
seem to herself; but she knew too well what
a torment it was; and now!</p>
<p>She felt as though it was rather hard that
the mice should have escaped, and here in this
very place, just at the moment when she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
been going to sacrifice her own pleasure to
her mother's comfort, and to be "as good as
Daisy."</p>
<p>Ah! but, Carrie, there was a great difference
between you and Daisy. Your little
sister had never yielded to temptation, had put
aside her own wishes at once for the sake of
her mother's feelings,—put them aside as a
matter of course, and without a thought that
it could or should be otherwise.</p>
<p>Dear, unselfish little Daisy!</p>
<p>But it would not do for her to stand here,
idly gazing about her. There were the other
children expecting her, perhaps looking for
her; she heard their voices even now in the
hall below.</p>
<p>Hastily gathering up the scattered fragments
of paper, tin-foil, and crumbs of chocolate and
barley which had fallen to the floor, she collected
them within the box, put the cover upon
that, opened a drawer belonging especially to
herself, and thrust all beneath some other
things. Some other time, she thought, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
would throw the box away; for the present it
was safe there.</p>
<p>This done, she ran downstairs and rejoined
her sisters and brothers and young friends,
who were all still so occupied with Daisy and
her pathetic sorrow over the parting from the
white mice, that they had scarcely noticed
Carrie's absence, and did not annoy her with
the questions she had dreaded.</p>
<p>But it was a miserable afternoon to Carrie.
She felt that repentance had come too late,
and that now at any time her mother might
encounter a mouse. She was not sorry when
it came to an end, and Mrs. Bradford, returning
with Mrs. Ransom from their drive, took
away her own little flock with her; Frankie
carrying the white mice, which he assured
Daisy he was "only keeping" for her till he
and she were married, when he would "build
her a gold house for them;" and that they
were just as much hers if they did live in his
house.</p>
<p>Daisy watched the departure of her pets with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
the most pitiful of little faces, striving with
all her might to smile and look cheerful, but
failing distressingly. Mrs. Ransom hardly understood
what it was all about till Mrs. Bradford's
carriage had gone, the white mice with
it; but, when she did, she overwhelmed her
unselfish little darling with so many thanks
and caresses that Daisy felt repaid for her
sacrifice.</p>
<p>Nellie wondered what it could be that made
Carrie continue so out of spirits and almost
fretful all the evening; but, having been repulsed
once or twice when she would have
attempted to give sympathy or ask questions,
she found it best to let Carrie alone, even when
she heard her crying quietly to herself after
they had both gone to rest, and her sister believed
her to be asleep.</p>
<p>But when the next morning came, and nothing
had yet been seen or heard, so far as she
knew, of the escaped prisoners, Carrie's spirits
rose once more, and she believed that she
should have no farther trouble from them.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p>
<p>Papa was expected home upon the evening
of this day, and Nellie was to be allowed to
try her hand upon his favorite ginger-cakes.
Nellie had something of a turn for cooking,
and was always so careful about rules and
proportions, steady little woman that she was,
that mamma was not much afraid that she
would fail, especially with good-natured Catherine
to keep an eye upon her.</p>
<p>Of course the making of the ginger-cakes
was a very important business, the grand
event of the day to Nellie, Carrie, and Daisy;
for the two last must have a hand in them, and
"help" Nellie in her operations. More than
this, they were to be allowed to roll out some
"teenty taunty" cakes for their own eating
and that of their dolls. They would have had
Nellie go to her cake-making the first thing in
the morning, and leave all else till this was
accomplished; but that was not Nellie's way.
"Duty before pleasure" was generally her
motto; and of late she had kept it steadily
before her, and tried also to be very sure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
which was the <i>duty</i> and which the <i>pleasure</i>,
feeling that she had too often mistaken the one
for the other.</p>
<p>But at last all the regular small housekeeping
tasks were done, and, with a pleasant consciousness
of duty fulfilled, Nellie signified to
the other children that she was ready to begin
her cookery.</p>
<p>Catherine had every thing ready for her;
and Nellie with a long apron tied about her
neck and covering all her dress, her sleeves
rolled up to her shoulders, and her receipt-book
lying open beside her, was soon deep in
the mysteries of mixing, while Carrie stood on
the other side of the table, sifting sugar; and
Daisy, mounted on a chair beside Nellie, ladled
spoonful after spoonful of flour into the stone
bowl wherein Nellie was stirring her mixture.
Nor did she spill more than a quarter of each
spoonful on the way, which, on the whole, is
saying a good deal.</p>
<p>Daisy's face was radiant, and her troubles
of yesterday were for the time quite forgotten
in the interest of her occupation.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p>
<p>"Carrie," said Nellie presently, trying to be
mysterious, so that Daisy might not know she
was the subject of remark, "Carrie, don't you
think a certain person of our acquaintance has
pretty well recovered?"</p>
<p>"Yes," answered Carrie, "you mean the
youngest person in the k-i-c-h-u-n, don't you?
Oh! quite recovered."</p>
<p>But Daisy was too quick for them, and, immediately
understanding that she was the individual
alluded to, thought herself called upon
to return to the mournful demeanor which
she considered proper under her bereavement,
and, banishing the smiles from her face, she
said, dolefully,—</p>
<p>"You mean me! I know you mean me;
and I'm not recoveryed at all, not one
bit."</p>
<p>"But I would if I were you," said Nellie.
"When we do a kind thing for any one, like
your giving up your mice for mamma, it is
better not to let them see we feel very badly
about it. That is, if we can help it; and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
think you could feel a little glad and happy
now if you chose: couldn't you?"</p>
<p>"Well, I don't know, I b'ieve not," answered
Daisy, closing her eyes with an expression
of the most hopeless resignation. "There
now!" continued this unappreciated little
mortal, opening them again, "just look how
that old flour went and spilled itself! There's
only a little speck left in the spoon!"</p>
<p>"Because you didn't look what you were
doing," said Nellie, laughing; "better keep
your eyes open, Daisy, when you are carrying
flour."</p>
<p>"I fink I could recovery a little if I only
knew what was in that big parcel," said Daisy,
taking up another spoonful of flour, this time
with her eyes open.</p>
<p>"What parcel?" asked Carrie.</p>
<p>"That large parcel that came home yesterday,"
said Daisy. "It is for papa, so mamma
said it wasn't right for me to peek; and now
it's in the hall-closet where I can't even see the
outside of it. I asked mamma if I couldn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
just open the closet door and look at it, but
she told me I'd better not, 'cause, if I did, it
might be a temp-ta-tion," repeated Daisy with
a justifiable pride in the long word and her
correct pronunciation of it.</p>
<p>"Yes, I know," said Nellie, turning to kiss
the chubby, befloured little face at her side.
"I know, darling; and you were a wise girl
to keep away; you've been very good yesterday
and to-day. Don't put in any more flour
till I come back. I am going into the store-room
for another paper of ginger."</p>
<p>"Carrie," said Daisy, when Nellie had gone,
"did you ever have a temp-ta-tion?"</p>
<p>Carrie did not like this question; innocently
as her little sister put it, it brought back to
her too plainly that yielding to temptation of
which she had so lately been guilty.</p>
<p>"Of course, child," she answered pettishly,
"everybody does."</p>
<p>"Did it make you do somefing naughty?"
was Daisy's still more unwelcome question.</p>
<p>"Mind your own business," snapped Carrie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
"Daisy, I never did see a child who talked so
much."</p>
<p>Daisy ventured no further remark, but
stood gravely regarding Carrie with reproving
displeasure till Nellie returned, when she
turned to her and said,—</p>
<p>"Nellie, isn't it more politer to say, 'Please
wait and talk a little more anofer time,' than
to say, 'Mind your own business, you talk too
much!'"</p>
<p>"I should think it was. O Daisy, what
a funny child you are!" said Nellie, much
amused, and without the least suspicion that
Carrie was the offender in question. "Who
has been so rude to you, darling?"</p>
<p>"Never mind," said Daisy. "Carrie, I won't
tell tales 'bout you, if you was rude to me,—oh,
so rude!"</p>
<p>Nellie laughed merrily again over Daisy's fancied
concealment of Carrie's sins against her.</p>
<p>"I don't see what there is to laugh about,"
said Carrie, angrily. "You think Daisy is so
smart."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p>
<p>Nellie was grave in a moment, wondering, as
she had had occasion to do many times during
the last twenty-four hours, what could make
Carrie so cross and ready to take offence.</p>
<p>"Any more flour, Nellie?" asked Daisy.</p>
<p>"No more now," answered her sister.
"Catherine, the receipt don't <i>say</i> cinnamon,
but papa likes it so much, I think I will put
some in. It can't do any harm, can it?"</p>
<p>"Not at all; I'm thinking it would be an improvement
myself, Miss Nellie," answered the
cook. "But then I've not a pinch of powdered
cinnamon. I used the last yesterday for the
rusks."</p>
<p>"There's some in the dining-room," said
Nellie. "Daisy, dear, you can do that. Go to
the sideboard, open the right-hand door, and
bring sister the spice-box you will see on the
first shelf. Bring it very carefully."</p>
<p>"Yes, I know it," said Daisy, scrambling
down from her chair, and feeling rather important
in her errand. "Cafarine, don't I
help a whole lot?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p>
<p>"Oh! a wonderful lot! I never saw a darlin'
that made herself so useful;" and with
these words of praise sounding in her ears,
Daisy went off happy.</p>
<p>In two minutes she was back again, breathless,
with wide-open eyes, the crimson deepening
in her cheeks, but with the spice-box
safely in her clasp.</p>
<p>"Nellie! and Carrie! and Cafarine! all of
yous! what do you fink?" she cried. "Oh!
such a fing!"</p>
<p>"What is the matter?" said all three at
once.</p>
<p>"A mouse! a weally mouse in the dinin'-room.
Not a white mouse, but a nigger mouse,—oh!
I forgot again,—I mean a colored
person mouse, right in the dinin'-room! What
will mamma say?"</p>
<p>"Oh! you must be mistaken, Daisy," said
Nellie, while Carrie heard the words of her
youngest sister with a sinking heart.</p>
<p>"No, I'm not, I'm not," persisted Daisy.
"It was just as weally a mouse as it could be.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
He was under the sideboard, and he ran out
and under the sofa."</p>
<p>"Oh dear!" said Nellie, in dismay at the
news. "Catherine, there must be mice in this
house. A good many too."</p>
<p>"Well, no, miss, I think not," said the
cook. "This is the first one"—</p>
<p>Down went the bowl into which Carrie was
sifting her sugar, not purposely, though she
was only too thankful for the diversion it
afforded, but because she had given a violent
start and knocked the bowl with her elbow in
her alarm at Catherine's words. How nearly
her secret had been discovered! But now it
was safe at least for the time, for the bowl was
broken, the sugar scattered over the floor,
and it was some moments before order was
restored; by which time Nellie was intent
upon cutting out her cakes, marking them with
the "jigging iron," and laying them in the
bake-pans, so that she had no thought for mice,
white or gray.</p>
<p>Declaring herself "tired of helping," and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
feeling that her labors had brought no very
satisfactory result to herself or others, Carrie
left the kitchen and wandered into the dining-room,
possibly to see if she could spy the
mouse Daisy had discovered. But no, there
was no mouse there, at least she could find
none; and she began to hope that, after all,
the little one had been mistaken.</p>
<p>Oh dear! how wretched and unhappy she
felt! She began to think she would feel better
if she went and told mamma, making honest
confession of what she had done, and begging
her forgiveness.</p>
<p>Just then Daisy came into the room, and
began peeping around in every corner and
under each article of furniture.</p>
<p>"You needn't be looking for that mouse,"
said Carrie, "he's gone; and, any way, I don't
believe there was any mouse there."</p>
<p>"There was, oh! there was," cried Daisy.
"I saw him wif my own eyes running fast,
fast. But, Carrie, Nellie says we'd better not
speak about it 'fore mamma, 'cause it would
trouble her."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p>
<p>"I don't believe it. You just thought you
saw him," persisted Carrie.</p>
<p>"Now you've said a great many bad fings
to me, but that's the baddest one of all, and I
shall leave you alone wif your own se'f," said
the offended Daisy, and walked away with her
head held high.</p>
<p>Now it might almost have been imagined
that Daisy knew that Carrie's "own se'f"
was no very pleasant company just at this
time, and that she wished to punish her by
leaving her "alone wif" it; and, innocent as
she was of any such intention, she certainly
had her revenge.</p>
<p>Carrie's own thoughts were not agreeable
companions; even less so now than they had
been before Daisy came in, for her half-formed
resolution of telling all to her mother seemed
less difficult than it had done before her little
sister had said that Nellie thought it best not
to speak of the mouse to mamma. If mamma
was not to hear of one mouse, it would not do
to tell her that several were running at large<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
about the house; and Carrie could not help
feeling and believing that this was one of the
escaped captives. Mice could come downstairs,
that she knew; for once, when she and Nellie
had been spending the day with Lily Norris,
they had seen a little mouse hopping down from
stair to stair, and had stood motionless and
silent, watching till he reached the bottom of
the flight, when his quick, bright eyes caught
sight of them, and he scampered away in a
fright.</p>
<p>And now that it was forbidden, she was
seized with a strong desire to relieve her mind
by a full confession to mamma. Then at least
she would be free from the burden of carrying
about with her such a guilty <i>secret</i>.</p>
<p>"Oh dear! oh dear!" she said to herself,
"whenever I've done anything naughty before,
I could always go and tell mamma, and then
she forgave me, and I felt better; but now it
seems as if I did not dare to tell her this. I'd
dare for myself, even if she was very much
displeased and punished me; but I suppose I
mustn't dare for her. It is <i>too</i> hard."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p>
<p>Ah, Carrie! so, sooner or later, we always
find the way of transgression; and oftentimes
the sharpest thorns in the road are those
which we have planted with our own hands,
not knowing that they will wound our feet,
and hold us back when we would retrace our
steps.</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 114px;">
<img src="images/deco4-rosebud_with_spines.jpg" width="114" height="99" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 359px;">
<img src="images/2_bird_in_different_nest.jpg" width="359" height="199" alt="birds" />
</div>
<h2>X.<br />
<small><i>FRESH TROUBLES.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-t.jpg" width="76" height="75" alt="T" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi4">THE ginger-cakes were a great success.
It is true that one's tongue was bitten,
now and then, by a lump of
ginger or other spice, not quite as thoroughly
mixed in by Nellie's unaccustomed fingers as
it might have been by those which were
stronger and more used to such business; but
who minded such trifles as that, or would refuse
to give the little workwoman the meed of
praise she so richly deserved?</div>
<p>Not her papa certainly, who found no fault
whatever, and eat enough of the ginger-cakes
to satisfy even his Nellie.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p>
<p>Not even Daisy, who met with such a misfortune
as that spoken of above, while at the
tea-table, and who was perceived first by Nellie
holding her tongue with one thumb and finger,
while in the other hand she held out the ginger-cake,
regarding it with a puzzled and disturbed
expression.</p>
<p>"What's the matter, Daisy?" asked Nellie.</p>
<p>"Somefing stinged my tongue. I b'ieve it
was a bee, and I eat him up," said Daisy, the
ever ready tears starting to her eyes. They
were excusable under the circumstances certainly.</p>
<p>"It has been a little bit of ginger," said
Mrs. Ransom, who had suffered in a similar
manner, but in silence. "Take some milk,
my darling."</p>
<p>"O Daisy, I'm so sorry! I suppose I haven't
mixed it well," said Nellie, looking horrified.</p>
<p>Daisy obeyed her mother's command, which
brought relief to her smarting tongue, and
then, turning to Nellie with a most benignant
smile, said,—</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p>
<p>"You needn't mind, Nellie. I'd just as
lieve have my tongue bited for your ginger-cakes.
Papa," she added, turning to her father,
"I s'pose you're going to be busy after tea,
ar'n't you?"</p>
<p>"No, papa has nothing to do but to rest
himself this evening," answered Mr. Ransom.</p>
<p>"Oh dear!" sighed Daisy, taking her
tongue between thumb and finger again.</p>
<p>"Do you want papa to be busy?" asked
Mr. Ransom.</p>
<p>"I fought you would be," said Daisy, who
found it extremely inconvenient not to be able
to pet the injured member and to talk at the
same moment. "I s'posed you'd have to
undo that big parcel that's in the hall closet;
and I fought my tongue would feel a good
deal better to know what's inside of it."</p>
<p>"Oh! that is it, is it?" said Mr. Ransom.
"Well, yes, I believe I <i>have</i> that little business
to attend to, so your tongue may get well right
away, Daisy."</p>
<p>Having finished his tea, Mr. Ransom now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
rose and went out into the hall, returning with
the great parcel which had so excited the curiosity
of his little daughter. This he put down
upon the floor beside his chair, went out once
more, and came back again with two smaller
parcels. These he put upon the table, and
took his seat before all three.</p>
<p>Daisy's excitement hardly knew bounds now,
especially when there came from within one of
the smaller parcels a little rustle, as though
something alive was inside. Still, her attention
was principally taken up with the "biggest
one of all;" and, to her great delight, this was
the first papa opened.</p>
<p>Paper and string removed, two bird-cages,
<i>empty</i> cages, presented themselves to the eyes
of the children. What could they be for?</p>
<p>"Papa," said Daisy, "you <i>couldn't</i> be going
to catch the little birdies out the trees, and
put them in there, could you?"</p>
<p>"Wait a moment," said her father, taking
up the parcel whence the rustling had come.</p>
<p>This, opened, revealed another bird-cage,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
this a tiny wooden one, but oh! delight! containing
two beautiful canaries. They looked
rather uncomfortable and astonished, it is true,
and as if they might be thoroughly tired of
their narrow quarters, from which Mr. Ransom
now speedily released them, putting one bird
in each large cage, which was soon furnished
with fresh seed and water, sugar, and all that
birds love.</p>
<p>"What little beauties! Who are they for,
papa?" asked Carrie.</p>
<p>"For little girls who have been helpful and
kind to mamma during the past week," said
Mr. Ransom, smiling. "I sent up the cages
by express, but brought on the birds myself.
Poor little fellows! they are glad to have
reached their journey's end, I think."</p>
<p>"But there's only two, and there are fee
girls," said Daisy,—"one, two, fee girls,"
pointing by turns to her sisters and herself,
"and one, two birds. That's not enough,
papa."</p>
<p>"Papa thought his Daisy too young to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
the care of a bird yet," said Mr. Ransom, "but
here is what he brought for her; for mamma
wrote to him what a good girl she was,
and what pains she was taking to cure herself
of that foolish habit of crying for trifles."</p>
<p>And, unwrapping the last parcel, Mr. Ransom
disclosed a box containing a pretty little
dinner-set. At another time Daisy would have
been delighted; but what was a dinner-set to a
bird?</p>
<p>She stood looking from one to the other
without the slightest expression of pleasure or
satisfaction in her own pretty gift.</p>
<p>"Don't you like it, Daisy?" asked her
father.</p>
<p>"Papa, I—I—I would if I could, but—but
the birdies are 'live, and the dinner-set
is dead; but I wouldn't cry about it, would I,
mamma?"</p>
<p>With which she ran to her mother, and
buried her face in her lap. Poor little woman!
it was almost touching to see how hard she
struggled with her too ready tears, which had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
been so long accustomed to have their way
upon small occasion. There was no mistaking
the good-will and resolution with which she
was striving to cure herself of a rather vexatious
and foolish habit; but it was such hard
work as can only be imagined by little girls
who have been troubled with a similar failing.</p>
<p>Mamma's praises and caresses helped her
to conquer it this time again, though it was a
harder trial than usual, and she altogether
declined to look at the dinner-set, or to take
any comfort therein.</p>
<p>"Papa," said Nellie to her father in a low
tone, as she and Carrie stood beside him, their
attention divided between the birds and Daisy,
"papa, if you will buy Daisy a bird, I will take
care of it for her. I suppose she is too little
to do it herself; but she likes pets so much,
and she was so very sweet and unselfish about
her white mice, that I think she deserves a
reward."</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom had not heard the story of the
white mice; but he now made inquiries which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
Nellie soon answered, Daisy's sacrifice losing
nothing of its merit in her telling; while
Carrie, feeling more and more uncomfortable,
but neither caring nor daring to run out of
hearing, and so excite questions, stood idly
rubbing her finger over the bars of her bird's
cage. The contrast between her own conduct
and that of her almost baby sister was making
itself felt more and more to her own heart and
conscience. If Daisy deserved a bird because
she had been loving and considerate for mamma,
surely she did not deserve the same.
How she hoped that papa would give Daisy
one!</p>
<p>But no; papa plainly showed that he had no
such intention, for when Nellie concluded with
these words,—</p>
<p>"Don't you think you will give Daisy a bird
of her own, papa?" he answered,—</p>
<p>"I think not at present, Nellie. I have
spent as much as I can afford at this time on
trifles, and Daisy must wait for her bird till
Christmas, or some other holiday. But she is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
a darling, blessed, little child, with a heart full
of loving, generous feeling, and I do not think
the less of her sacrifice because I do not find
it best to give her a bird just now. I shall
try to give her some other pleasure which
may make up to her for the loss of her white
mice."</p>
<p>But it did not seem to Nellie or Carrie, any
more than it did to Daisy herself, that any
thing could do this so well as a canary-bird;
and, although they knew that it was of no use
to try and persuade papa to change his mind
when he had once resolved upon a thing, they
felt as if they could hardly let the matter drop
here.</p>
<p>Daisy had heard nothing of all this, for she
was cuddled up in her mother's lap on the
other side of the room, where mamma had
taken her away from birds and dinner-set, till
she should be petted and comforted into happiness
once more.</p>
<p>And now papa left the other children, and,
going over to mamma and Daisy, sat down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
beside them, and gave his share of praise to
his little daughter, not only for the giving up
of the white mice, but also for that other matter
concerning the tears, which she was so
bravely learning to control, with the idea of
"helping mamma."</p>
<p>So at last a calm, though mournful resignation
returned to the bosom of the little one,
and she was farther consoled by mamma insisting
upon putting her to bed herself, a treat
which Daisy had not enjoyed since Nellie had
taken up the character of mamma's housekeeper;
for, when Ruth could not leave baby,
Nellie now always considered this a part of
her duty.</p>
<p>Still Daisy could not refrain from saying,
as her mother led her from the room,—</p>
<p>"Mamma, I fink I never heard of a little
girl who had so many <i>sorrys</i> as me; did
you?"</p>
<p>When Mrs. Ransom came downstairs, however,
she reported Daisy as restored to a more
cheerful frame of spirits, and as singing herself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
to sleep with her own version of the popular
melody of "One little, two little, three little
nigger boys,"—namely, "One little, two little,
fee little <i>colored person</i> boys;" so careful was
she in all things to heed mamma's wishes, and
not at all disturbed by the fact that the words
of her rhyme did not exactly fit the tune. It
was all the same to Daisy. Rules of music
and measure were nothing to her, so long as
her conscience was at rest.</p>
<p>The family had all gone out upon the piazza.
The father and mother sat a little apart, talking;
the boys were amusing themselves with
old Rover upon the lower step; while Nellie
and Carrie were seated above at the head of
the flight.</p>
<p>"What makes you so quiet, Carrie?" asked
Nellie.</p>
<p>"I don't know," answered Carrie, though
she said "don't know" more from that way
we all have of saying it at times when we are
not prepared with an answer, than from an
intention to speak an untruth. Then, after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
another silence of a moment or two, she spoke
again,—</p>
<p>"Nellie, why won't you make one of those
brackets for mamma?"</p>
<p>"For the reason I told you. Because I don't
think I shall have time. I think I'd better
take my money to buy her some other Christmas
present all ready made. Mamma will
like it just as well if she sees I try to help and
please her in the mean time," said sensible
Nellie.</p>
<p>"But you could give her something a great
deal prettier if you made it yourself," said
Carrie.</p>
<p>"I know it," answered Nellie, quietly; "but
I cannot do it, and have any play-time, and
mamma says she does not wish me to be busy
all the time."</p>
<p>"Pshaw!" said Carrie, whose mind was
quite set upon the pair of brackets to be
worked by herself and her sister, "your housekeeping
don't take you so long, and you never
study so <i>very</i> much now, so you have a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
deal of time, and I should think you might be
willing to use some of it to make a pretty
thing for mamma. You think yourself so great
with the housekeeping."</p>
<p>"I have some other work I want to do,"
said Nellie. "I would do it if I could, but I
cannot, Carrie."</p>
<p>"That's real selfish," said Carrie. "You'd
rather do something for yourself than please
mamma."</p>
<p>Nellie made no answer. If our quiet, gentle
"little sunbeam" could not disperse the clouds
of Carrie's ill-temper, she would at least not
make them darker and heavier by an angry
retort or provoking sneer. Carrie was very
unjust and unreasonable, it was true; but
Nellie knew that she would feel ashamed and
sorry far sooner, if she were let alone, than she
would if she were answered back. And Nellie
felt that it was not so long since she herself
had been "cross" and fretful at trifles. She
believed, too, that "something ailed Carrie,"
making her unusually captious and irritable at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
this time. It was not over-study certainly:
Carrie was not likely to be at fault in that;
but Nellie could not help thinking either that
she was not well, or that some trouble was on
her mind. What that was, of course, she had
not the slightest suspicion.</p>
<p>"After all, Nellie don't think so very much
about pleasing mamma," said Carrie to herself,
with rather a feeling of satisfaction in the
thought.</p>
<p>It was not pleasant to feel that, while both
her sisters were trying so hard to be useful
and good to mamma, that she alone had done
that which was likely to bring annoyance and
trouble upon her.</p>
<p>There is an old adage that "misery loves
company." I am not so sure about that, for
I do not see what comfort there can be in
knowing that others are unhappy; but I fear
that sin often "loves company," and that there
is a certain satisfaction in being able to feel
that some other person is as naughty as ourselves.
<i>Then</i> we need not draw comparisons
to our own disadvantage.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p>
<p>Such was Carrie's state of mind just now;
and there is no denying that she was somewhat
pleased to believe that Nellie was seeking her
own happiness rather than mamma's.</p>
<p>But still she did not feel that she could so
easily give up the idea of the pair of brackets.
To make mamma such a grand present as that
seemed in some sort a kind of amends for her
past undutifulness, and she could not bear
that she and Nellie should fall behind Maggie
and Bessie in a Christmas present to their
mother.</p>
<p>So she went on to urge Nellie farther, but in
a pleasanter tone.</p>
<p>"I think it would be perfectly splendid to
give mamma such a lovely present," she said,
"and it would be so nice to tell all the girls in
school that we are going to do it. Don't you
think it would?"</p>
<p>"I don't care about telling the girls,"
answered Nellie, "but I would be very glad to
make such a lovely thing for mamma."</p>
<p>"And you will do it then?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p>
<p>"No," said Nellie, reluctantly, but decidedly:
"I tell you I cannot, Carrie. I have something
else to do, and I know mamma would not wish
me to take any more work. Don't ask me any
more."</p>
<p>"What are you going to do?" asked
Carrie.</p>
<p>"I'll tell you another time," said Nellie,
lowering her voice still more. "I don't want
mamma to hear. Please don't talk about it."</p>
<p>Carrie pouted again, and, to one or two proposals
from Nellie that they should amuse
themselves with some game, returned short
and sullen refusals. Presently she rose, and,
going to her father and mother, bade them
good-night.</p>
<p>"What! so early, dear?" said her mother
in surprise, for it was something very unusual
for Carrie to wish to go to rest before her ordinary
bed-time.</p>
<p>"Yes'm," said Carrie: "I've nothing to do,
and it's so stupid; and Nellie's cross and won't
talk to me."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p>
<p>O Carrie, Carrie!</p>
<p>"I am afraid it is Carrie who is a little
cross and fretful," said Mrs. Ransom, who
had noticed that this had been Carrie's condition
all day. "Well, perhaps bed is the best
place for you. Try to sleep it off, and be
pleasant and good-natured in the morning."</p>
<p>"Everybody seems to think Nellie and
Daisy are quite perfect," murmured Carrie to
herself, as she sauntered slowly through the
hall and up the stairs. "No one ever says
they do any thing wrong; but always say I
am cross, and every thing else that is horrid.
I've a good mind—I mean I'd just like to go
'way far off in a steamboat or the cars or something,
and stay for a great many years, and
then how sorry they'd be when they'd lost me,
and didn't know where I was. They'd be glad
enough when I came back; and wouldn't they
wish they'd never been cross to me!"</p>
<p>Drawing such solace as she could from
thoughts like these, after the manner of too
many little children when they have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
cross and discontented, and brought trouble
upon themselves, she went on to the nursery.</p>
<p>"I want my clothes unfastened," she said
imperiously to Ruth, who held the ever-wakeful
baby across her knees, having just succeeded
in hushing it to sleep.</p>
<p>Ruth would probably at another time have
declined the service demanded from her, until
Carrie spoke in a more civil way; but now
she preferred submission to having the baby
roused, which would be the probable result of
any contention between Carrie and herself.
So she did as she was <i>ordered</i> without answering,
and thereby secured the quiet she desired.
At least so she thought, as Carrie stood perfectly
silent till the task was nearly completed.
But Ruth had reckoned without her host.</p>
<p>Carrie had fully expected that Ruth would
reprove her for her disagreeable way of speaking,
perhaps even refuse to do what she
wanted; and she felt ashamed and rather subdued
as she stood quietly before the nurse
while she unfastened sash, buttons, and strings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
She had resolved that she would give no more
trouble to-night, would not make any noise
that could disturb baby, and was even trying
to make up her mind to tell Ruth she was
sorry that she had been so troublesome and
rebellious all day, when she saw—what?</p>
<p>There, secure in the silence of the quiet
nursery, was a little mouse darting here and
there, seeking, probably, for what he might
find in the shape of food.</p>
<p>Carrie gave a start, a start as violent as
though she herself had been afraid of the harmless
little animals her mother held in such
nervous dread, causing Ruth to start also in
involuntary sympathy, and thus waking the
baby upon her lap.</p>
<p>Ruth scolded Carrie, of course: she was
more apt to blame her than she was either of
the other children, and to believe that she did
a vexatious thing "on purpose." Probably
this was Carrie's own fault, because she really
gave more trouble than her sisters; but it was
none the pleasanter, and perhaps there was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
some truth in her oft repeated complaint that
she had "a hard time in the nursery."</p>
<p>Be that as it may, Ruth's harsh words were
the last drop in Carrie's brimming cup; and,
wrenching herself out of the nurse's hands, she
declared she would finish undressing herself,
and ran away to her own room.</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 99px;">
<img src="images/deco6-leaf_two_flowers.jpg" width="99" height="81" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
<img src="images/4_baby_birds.jpg" width="350" height="204" alt="baby birds and parent" />
</div>
<h2>XI.<br />
<small><i>A NIGHT OF IT.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-s.jpg" width="74" height="73" alt="S" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi4">SCARCELY was she there when she repented
that she had come, until she
found out what became of the mouse;
but she was too much offended with Ruth to
go back, and with some difficulty succeeded in
taking off the rest of her clothes without help,
tears slowly dropping from her eyes the while.</div>
<p>Poor Carrie! how miserable she did feel;
and to her troubled little mind there was no
way out of her difficulties.</p>
<p>She would have confessed all, if there had
seemed to be any one to confess to; but, remembering
Nellie's charge to Daisy and herself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
that morning, it did not seem wise or
right to tell mamma that there were mice in
the house when she might possibly escape the
knowledge; she was afraid to tell her father,
for all Mr. Ransom's children stood a good
deal in awe of him; and she did not feel as if
there would be much satisfaction or relief in
telling Nellie. Nellie could not know how to
advise her or tell her what to do. And yet—perhaps
she could. Nellie was such a wise,
thoughtful, well-judging little girl.</p>
<p>Perhaps Carrie would not have put her
thoughts into just such words; but this was the
feeling in her heart at this moment, and it was
no more than justice to Nellie. She knew she
could depend on Nellie's sympathy, however
much shocked her sister might be at her
naughtiness, and she half believed that she
could help her. How she wished now that she
had not been so pettish and disagreeable to
her!</p>
<p>"Nellie wasn't cross at all, it was old me
that was cross and hateful and horrid; and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
have been ever since I took the mice," she
said to herself, the tears rolling over her
cheeks. "I wish she'd come up, and I'd tell
her I'm sorry; and if she asks me what's the
matter, I b'lieve I've a good mind to tell her.
Oh dear! I wish I'd never seen those mice.
S'pose that one should run out of the nursery
into mamma's room. I wish the door was
shut between her room and the nursery."</p>
<p>Then when she knelt down to say her prayers,
and came to the words of our Lord's Prayer,
"Lead us not into temptation," she remembered
how Daisy had asked her what she would do
if she "had a temptation;" and she buried her
face in the bed-clothes as if she wished to shut
out the remorseful recollection of how she had
acted yesterday in that moment of temptation;
and more and more bitter became her self-reproaches
as she thought how sweetly Daisy
had acted in the matter of the white mice.
Yes: Daisy had shown true love and tenderness
for her mother; but how far had she been
from doing the same?</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p>
<p>Perhaps never in all her little life had Carrie
sent heavenward as true and sincere a prayer
as that she added to-night to her usual petitions:
"And lead me out of this temptation,
and show me what to do, O God!"</p>
<p>Then when she was, with considerable
trouble to herself, all ready for bed, she
lay down, but not without another anxious
glance at the door between her mother's room
and the nursery. If she could but have that
door closed!</p>
<p>Having soothed the baby to sleep once more,
Ruth brought her into her mother's room, and
put her into the cradle. This done, she passed
on into Carrie's room to see that all was right
there, and the little girl safely in bed. She
did not speak,—perhaps she thought Carrie
was already asleep,—but moved quietly
around, picking up the articles of dress which
her little charge had left strewn about, arranging
the windows and doors properly, and turning
down the light.</p>
<p>Then she went away.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p>
<p>And now to have the door closed between
her mother's room and the closet which led into
the nursery became the great desire of Carrie's
mind as she lay in her little bed,—closed so
that the mouse should not find its way through.</p>
<p>She did not dream that mousie had done
that already, and hoped to be able to close the
door this way without attracting Ruth's attention.
Slipping from her bed, she went softly,
so that Ruth might not hear her, over her own
floor, and through her mother's room to the
closet door, and stretching out her hand was
about to push it to, when Ruth caught sight of
her through the closet door.</p>
<p>"What's the matter, child? What do you
want?" she asked in much surprise, coming
forward.</p>
<p>"I want this door shut, and I'm going to
have it, too," said Carrie, preparing for battle
at once, for she saw that Ruth would object.</p>
<p>"Well, what whim has taken you now?"
said Ruth, pushing back the door. "Indeed,
and you can't have it shut till your mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
comes up. How would I hear the baby if it
cries?"</p>
<p>Carrie persisted in her purpose. Ruth
would have been firm, but finding the child
would not yield, and fearing to wake the baby
once more if an uproar were raised, she let her
take her way, and immediately went down
with a complaint to Mrs. Ransom.</p>
<p>Papa heard as well as mamma, and took the
matter into his own hands; and scarcely had
Carrie climbed into bed again, glorying, partly
in having attained her purpose, partly in the
supposed victory over Ruth, when papa appeared,
and, with a few stern words to the wilful
little girl, set it open again, forbidding her
to touch it, and leaving her in a more unhappy
state of mind than ever.</p>
<p>She lay there and cried till Nellie came up;
Johnny accompanying her, and each carrying
a bird. No hooks were in readiness for hanging
the cages; and it was decided that, for
to-night, they should be placed upon chairs,
Nellie's bird by her side of the bed, Carrie's
by hers.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p>
<p>Carrie, whose heart and conscience were so
uneasy, was very wakeful; and, long after
Nellie was asleep, she lay tossing restlessly
from side to side. Even after mamma came
up to her room, she could not go to sleep for a
long while.</p>
<p>In the night, far into the night it seemed to
her that it must be, she was wakened by a
sound at her side,—a rustling, scratching
sound.</p>
<p>What could it be? Carrie was not so foolish
as to be afraid of the dark, indeed she was
rather a brave child; but now she felt as if she
would have given any thing to have had a
light in the room, to see what made that
strange sound.</p>
<p>She bore it as long as she could, then woke
Nellie.</p>
<p>"What can it be, Nellie?" she whispered,
as Nellie listened.</p>
<p>"I don't know: I'm afraid there's somebody
here," said Nellie, in the same tone, but very
much alarmed.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p>
<p>"What shall we do?" said Carrie, clinging
to her sister.</p>
<p>"'Thou shalt not steal,' 'Thou God seest
me,' 'The way of transgressors is hard,' if
you are a robber," said Nellie, raising her
voice as she addressed the supposed intruder
with all the Scripture texts she could muster
for the occasion, and which might be imagined
to influence him.</p>
<p>No answer, but the rustling ceased for a
moment, then began again; and it was more
than the children could bear.</p>
<p>"Papa! papa!" shrieked Nellie, "there's
some one in our room! Please come, do come,
papa!" And Carrie joined her cries to her
sister's.</p>
<p>Papa heard, and came; and so did mamma,
very much startled.</p>
<p>"There's a noise, a robber, here, by my
bed!" exclaimed Carrie all in a flutter, though
the noise had again ceased. Papa struck a
light, there was a faint rustle, a sound of some
small body jumping or falling from a height,
and Mr. Ransom exclaimed,—</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p>
<p>"A mouse! Nothing but a mouse in the
bird's cage!"</p>
<p>If there had been a veritable robber there,
doubtless Mrs. Ransom would have stayed to
confront him, and defend her children; but at
the sound of "a mouse," a harmless little
mouse, she turned about, and ran back to her
own room, closing the door in no small haste.
If the children had not felt too much sympathy
for her, they could have laughed to see how
she rushed away.</p>
<p>But Carrie did not feel like laughing, you
may be sure, relieved though she might have
been to find that it was nothing worse than
a mouse that had caused her own and Nellie's
alarm. I do not know but that she would
almost have preferred the "robber," or some
wild monster, now that papa was there to
defend them, to the pretty, innocent little
creature which had been the real cause of the
disturbance.</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom hunted about for the mouse,
but all in vain: he had hidden himself somewhere<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
quite safely and was not to be found.
The bird-cages were put upon the mantel-piece
where he could not reach them again, for
mousie had found the bird-seed an excellent
supper, and Mr. Ransom thought he
might return to his repast.</p>
<p>Return he did in search of it, as soon as
papa had gone and the room was quiet once
more; but this time the children knew what it
was, and although, when he found his supper
placed beyond his reach, he made considerable
disturbance, they were not frightened. But
they found it impossible to sleep, such a noise
did he make, tearing about over the straw
matting which covered the floor, nibbling now
at this, now at that, and altogether making
himself as much of a nuisance as only a mouse
in one's bed-room at night can do.</p>
<p>At last he was quiet, and the two weary
children were just sinking off to sleep, when
Nellie started up with,—</p>
<p>"Carrie! I do believe that mouse is in the
bed!"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p>
<p>This was too much, not to be borne by any
one, however much they might like mice; and
both Nellie and Carrie were speedily out of
bed, the former hastily turning up the light
which papa had left burning for their comfort.</p>
<p>Carrie was about to run to the door and
call papa to come, but Nellie stopped her.</p>
<p>"Don't, Carrie," she said: "it will just
frighten mamma again. Let's see if we can't
find him. I'm not afraid of him, are you?
Only, I don't like to have him in the bed."</p>
<p>Rather enjoying the fun, Nellie pulled off
the covers and pillows, and even, exerting all
her little strength, contrived to turn up one
end of the mattress; but this, even with
Carrie's help, she found hard work, and, nothing
being discovered of the little nuisance,
they were content to believe that Nellie had
been mistaken, to put on the bed-clothes as
well as they could, and lie down again.</p>
<p>But Carrie did not enjoy all this, if Nellie
did. At another time she, too, might have
thought that it was "fun" to have such a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
and sufficient excuse for being up and busy
when the clock was striking—could it be?—yes,
it was twelve o'clock, midnight! and she
and Nellie frisking there about the room, as
wide awake as if it were noon.</p>
<p>But there was a weight on Carrie's mind,
she felt too guilty to enjoy the novelty, and
she was almost vexed at Nellie's glee over it.
Oh dear! how she did wish that she had never
seen the mice, that "such things as mice had
never been made."</p>
<p>And when at last she fell into a troubled
slumber, for they heard nothing more of
mousie, it was not the calm, peaceful sleep of
her sister who lay beside her, but filled with
uncomfortable dreams, and many a start and
moan.</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 88px;">
<img src="images/deco5-drooping_spiny_flower.jpg" width="88" height="69" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 359px;">
<img src="images/2_bird_in_different_nest.jpg" width="359" height="199" alt="birds" />
</div>
<h2>XII.<br />
<small><i>AN ALARM.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-n.jpg" width="73" height="73" alt="N" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi4">NOR did she feel lighter-hearted in the
morning, especially when Nellie began
to lament the too plain fact
that there must be a good many mice in the
house, and that they seemed to have come so
suddenly. First discovered but two days ago
in the store-room, and never seen or heard
before since the family had occupied this house,
they now appeared to be running wild, all over.
It was very singular, certainly.</div>
<p>So thought Nellie, adding that mamma
would now "have no peace of her life," so
long as the mice were free, and she should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
ask papa to buy a lot of mouse-traps and set
them in every room.</p>
<p>Carrie knew only too well how this had
come about; but now that mamma did know
that there were mice in the house, she did not
feel as if she could confess that it was through
her fault that they had been brought upstairs.
It seemed so horribly unkind, such a dreadful
thing to have done to mamma now.</p>
<p>So, although she was not cross and fretful
as she had been last night, she went about
listlessly, and with a subdued and melancholy
manner that was worthy of Daisy herself when
she was at the very lowest depths of despondency,
but with far better reason than Daisy
usually had.</p>
<p>Even when Ruth, who felt a little grudge
against her for her naughty conduct of the
last few days, snubbed her and pulled her
about rather more than was necessary when
she was dressing her, Carrie bore it meekly,
not having spirit to answer back, and so softening
the nurse by her silent submission that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
she gave her a kindly pat on the shoulder, saying
that she saw she was "tired of being
naughty and was going to be good to-day."
Which small encouragement Carrie received
as she left the nursery with as great a want of
interest or animation as she had shown for
every thing that morning; and Ruth, shaking
her head, privately confided to baby her opinion
that that child was "going to be sick, or she
never in the world would be so good."</p>
<p>When Mr. Ransom came down to breakfast,
he said that Mamma would not be down right
away; but sent word that Nellie might "pour
out" for her this morning. She had had a
restless, wakeful night, having been made nervous
and uncomfortable by the knowledge that
a mouse was around, and could not compose
herself to sleep after the little excitement in
the children's room.</p>
<p>Were Carrie's troubles never coming to an
end?</p>
<p>"Pouring out" was not new to Nellie, for
she had made tea and coffee for her father and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
brothers many a morning before when mamma
was not well enough to come downstairs; but
still it was an important business, and one to
which she felt obliged to bend every energy,
till all were served according to their liking.
Then she felt at leisure for conversation, and
for observing what was going on about the
table.</p>
<p>"Are you not going to eat your breakfast,
Carrie?" she asked, seeing that her sister sat
idly playing with her spoon, as if she had no
appetite.</p>
<p>"I'm not hungry," answered Carrie, not
altogether pleased at having notice drawn
upon her.</p>
<p>"Did the mouse frighten your appetite
away, Carrie?" asked Mr. Ransom, looking
at her.</p>
<p>"No, papa,—I—I think not. I'm not
afraid of mice," said Carrie.</p>
<p>"But he frightened us very much before we
knew what it was," said Nellie; "and afterwards
we thought he was in the bed, papa."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p>
<p>"What was it? Tell us all about it," said
Johnny. "A mouse! Won't mamma be in
a taking, though?"</p>
<p>"Poor mamma!" said Nellie; and then she
related the whole story, seeming to think her
own experience and Carrie's rather a good
joke, though she was sadly troubled about
mamma's nervousness over the matter.</p>
<p>"That's worse than white mice," said Daisy,
who had listened with wide open eyes, in such
intense interest that she quite forgot to eat
her breakfast.</p>
<p>"But that's awful for mamma," said Bob.
"What will she do?"</p>
<p>"It is a great pity," said Mr. Ransom.
"I had hoped mamma would not be troubled
in that way."</p>
<p>"They seem to be appearing all over the
house at once," said Nellie, "and only since
day before yesterday when I found the first in
the store-room."</p>
<p>"Did you find one in the store-room too?"
asked Johnny.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p>
<p>"Ever so many in a box; but Catherine
killed them," said Nellie, never doubting, of
course, that she was stating the truth.</p>
<p>Carrie raised her downcast eyes in terror;
but, to her relief, the servant in waiting had
left the breakfast-room for one moment, and
there was no contradiction of Nellie's words.</p>
<p>"Why, Cad?" said Johnny, "what ails
you? you seem to take the mouse almost as
hard as mamma would. You needn't be afraid
for your bird, if that's it; for he was only after
the seed."</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom looked at Carrie again.</p>
<p>"Don't be troubled, little daughter," he
said. "Johnny is right: the mice will not
hurt your birds. But you are quite upset with
being so disturbed last night, are you not?
Come here to papa."</p>
<p>Dreading questions which she would not
care to answer, and wishing that she could
creep under the table, run out of the room, or
hide herself anywhere, Carrie was about to
obey; but, before she could rise from her chair,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
there was heard a commotion overhead, a
smothered scream in Mrs. Ransom's voice, a
running and scuffling, and then Ruth calling
to her master to "come quick."</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom sprang from his chair, and
rushed upstairs, followed by every one of his
boys and girls, fearing they knew not what,
save that something dreadful had happened.</p>
<p>Something dreadful, indeed, all the children
thought, when, running into mamma's room,
she was seen, pale, with closed eyes and quite
senseless, lying back in the arms of Ruth;
while the baby, resenting being placed suddenly
face downwards upon the bed, was
shrieking with all its little might.</p>
<p>The younger children, not unnaturally,
thought that she was dead, and were terrified
half out of their senses; but Nellie had seen
mamma in a fainting fit before, and, though
frightened, knew that she would be better by
and by. So she gave the best help she could
by taking up the screaming baby and hushing
its cries, and encouraging her sisters—although<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
her own lips were trembling and eyes
filling with tears—with hopeful words.</p>
<p>"What happened? What caused this?"
asked Mr. Ransom, when he had laid his wife
upon the couch, and was engaged with the
assistance of the servant women in restoring
her.</p>
<p>"Indeed, sir, and it was just a mouse, nasty
thing!" said Ruth. "I came in with the baby
to ask Mrs. Ransom for some ribbon for its
sleeves, and she went to the bureau drawer for
them, and as she opened it what did a mouse
do but jump right out on her. 'Twas enough
to scare a body that wasn't afraid of mice; but,
for her, it's no wonder it's half killed her,
poor dear! We're just getting overrun with
mice. There! she's coming to now. That's
all right, dear lady!"</p>
<p>Carrie heard, saw mamma's eyes slowly unclosing
and looking up at papa; but oh! how
white and very ill she looked still. She heard
and ran, anxious to shut out sight and hearing,—ran
out of the room upstairs to the garret,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
and, squeezing herself behind the old furniture
in the place where she had hidden the mice,
sobbed and cried as if her heart would break.</p>
<p>What if mamma was not dead, as she had
thought at first: she might be dying still,
must be very ill to look like that, and she had
done it. It was all her fault.</p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 183px;">
<img src="images/deco2-fuschias.jpg" width="183" height="110" alt="decoration" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 319px;">
<img src="images/3_bird_on_branch.jpg" width="319" height="176" alt="bird on branch" />
</div>
<h2>XIII.<br />
<small><i>AND LAST OF THE SUNBEAMS.</i></small></h2>
<div>
<img class="drop-capi" src="images/drop-h.jpg" width="71" height="72" alt="H" />
</div>
<div class="drop-capi4">HOW long she stayed there she did not
know, now crying, now ceasing, and
crouched there in a kind of dumb
remorse and misery which would have been
a severe punishment for even a worse fault
than that of which she had been guilty. She
wanted to come out and learn what was going
on downstairs, and yet she did not dare to:
she felt as if she could not bear to see that
look upon mamma's face again. Then she
would shed more bitter tears. She imagined
and wondered over many things. If mamma
died and went to heaven, would she know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
what she had done, and be so grieved and displeased
at her unkindness that she would love
her no longer? Were people in heaven ever
troubled about the naughty things their loved
ones did or had done upon the earth?</div>
<p>So she sat all in a heap, behind the old
chairs and tables, perplexing her poor little
brain, and racking her heart with all kind of
imaginary consequences to this morning's occurrence.
By and by she heard the servants
calling her, but would not answer; then her
father's voice, but now she believed that he
must know all; "it had come out in some
way," and she was afraid to face him and did
not stir. Ruth opened the door at the foot of
the garret stairs and called her name, even
came up and looked about the open space, but
did not see Carrie crouched in her far corner,
and the little girl never stirred till she was
gone.</p>
<p>Next she heard Nellie calling her from
the garden below, her voice troubled and
anxious.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p>
<p>"Carrie," she said, "Carrie, dear! where
are you? Do answer if you can hear me.
Mamma is growing so troubled because we
can't find you."</p>
<p>Here was a scrap of comfort. Mamma was
at least alive enough to inquire for, and be
anxious about her. She crept to the window
and looked down to where Nellie stood, calling
still, and turning her eyes in every direction.</p>
<p>"Here I am, Nellie, I'll come down," she
answered, ran down the stairs, opened the
door, and then, her courage failing her once
more, stood still and peeped out.</p>
<p>Papa stood at the door of mamma's room,
and saw her at once. A pale, tear-stained,
miserable little face it was that met his eye,
and stirred his pity.</p>
<p>"My poor little woman!" he said, holding
out his hand to her: "why, how woe-begone you
look. Have you been hiding because you were
frightened about mamma? That was not
worth while, and mamma has been asking for
you, and every one looking for you this ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
so long. Come and see mamma, she is better
now, and looks like herself again."</p>
<p>Carrie came forward, still with hesitating
steps and hanging head; and her father, taking
her hand, led her into mamma's room.</p>
<p>Mrs. Ransom lay upon the sofa, looking
very white still, but with a smile upon her lips,
and her eyes bright and life-like as usual; and
the timid glance which Carrie gave to her
mother's face reassured her very much.</p>
<p>Still she felt so guilty and conscious, such a
longing to confess all, and yet so ashamed and
afraid to do it, that her manner remained as
confused and downcast as ever.</p>
<p>Nellie stood behind her mother, leaning over
the head of the couch, and looking troubled
and anxious, but her face brightened when she
saw Carrie.</p>
<p>Daisy, with the most solemn of faces, was
seated in a little chair at mamma's feet, gazing
silently at the pages of "Baxter's Saint's
Rest," held upside down. Not one word could
Daisy read, she barely knew her letters; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
she had found Baxter in the little rack which
held mamma's books of devotional reading,
her "prayers books," Daisy called them; and
believing any work she found there must be
suitable to the day, and the state of mind she
considered it proper to maintain while mamma
was ill, she had possessed herself of it,
and was now fully persuaded that she was
deriving great benefit from the contents
thereof.</p>
<p>"So you ran away from mamma," said Mrs.
Ransom, caressing Carrie's hand as she buried
her face in the sofa-pillows beside her mother's.
"Did she frighten you so? What a poor foolish
mamma it is to be so startled at such a
harmless little thing as a mouse, is it not,
dearie? I hope I should not have been quite
so foolish if I had been well and strong. My
poor Carrie!"</p>
<p>Worse and worse! Here was mamma blaming
herself and pitying her! She could say
nothing, only nestle closer to her mother, and
try to keep back the sobs which were struggling
to find way.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p>
<p>Mrs. Ransom was quite well again by afternoon,
and able to join the family at the dinner-table;
but although the spirits of the other
children rose with her recovery, Carrie still
continued dull and dispirited.</p>
<p>She accompanied her father and Nellie to
church in the afternoon. Happening to turn
his eyes towards her during the service, Mr.
Ransom saw her leaning her head listlessly
against the back of the pew, while her lips
were quivering and tears slowly coursing one
another down her cheeks. He wondered what
could cause it. There was nothing in the sermon
to touch her feelings, indeed she probably
did not understand one word of it. He drew
her towards him, and passing his arm about
her let her rest her head against his shoulder
where she cried quietly for a few moments,
and then, as if this had relieved her, dried her
eyes and sat up.</p>
<p>Carrie had taken a resolution, and the very
taking of it had done her good, and made her
feel less guilty and unhappy. Papa was so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
kind and good that she began to think that
after all perhaps it would not be so very hard
to tell him all, and confess how naughty she
had been. Even if he punished her very much,
the punishment could not be worse to bear
than this, she thought. She would tell him
as soon as they reached home, and she could
find an opportunity to talk to him alone.</p>
<p>But alas for poor Carrie's hopes of unburdening
her mind at once! On the way home
from church a gentleman joined her father and
went to the house with him, came in, stayed
to tea, and actually remained all the evening,
even long after her bedtime and Nellie's.</p>
<p>Nor was this the last drop in Carrie's cup.</p>
<p>Daisy met them at the gate when they returned
from church, brimming over with excitement,
which was speedily taken down when
the strange gentleman, laying his hand on her
little round head, turned to her father and
said,—</p>
<p>"Your youngest son, Mr. Ransom?"</p>
<p>"My daughter,—another little daughter,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
said Mr. Ransom, quickly, knowing Daisy's
sensitiveness on this point; but the wound was
given past recall, and the stranger was henceforth
looked upon as a man capable of breaking
any and every commandment among the
ten.</p>
<p>"I s'pect that man never ermembers the
Sabbaf day to keep it holy; and I don't b'lieve
he ever says his p'ayers," said Daisy, severely,
regarding him with an air of great offence as
he walked on with her father to the house.</p>
<p>"I think he does. I believe he's a very
nice gentleman," said Nellie, much amused.</p>
<p>"No, I fink not," said Daisy, decidedly.
"I b'ieve he slaps his wife fee times ev'y day.
He has the look of it."</p>
<p>Nellie laughed outright.</p>
<p>"He hasn't any wife," she said.</p>
<p>"He'd do it if he had one then," persisted
Daisy, who, in general the most forgiving and
soft-hearted of little mortals, could not overlook
the offence of the visitor, "'cause he calls
people sons. Augh! People that slap their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
wives so much that they kill 'em have to be
took to prison," she added reflectively, and as
if she found some consolation in the thought.
"Hannah told me so. She knew a man that
was."</p>
<p>"Hannah had no business to tell you
such stories as that," said Nellie. "Mamma
wouldn't like it at all, Daisy."</p>
<p>"Then I'll tell her she mustn't do it," said
Daisy; "but, Nellie, do people that kill mice
have to be took to prison?"</p>
<p>"No," said Nellie, "mice are very troublesome
and mischievous, so it is not wrong to
kill them. But it would be very wicked to
tease them or hurt them more than we can
help."</p>
<p>"I'm glad of that," said Daisy, "'cause I
wouldn't like you and Carrie to go to prison."</p>
<p>"No, I should think not," said Nellie, "but
Carrie and I did not kill a mouse."</p>
<p>"Oh, yes! you did," said Daisy, "least you
squeezed him up in the bed so he had to kill
hisse'f afterwards."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p>
<p>"O Daisy!" said Nellie.</p>
<p>"It's the truf," answered Daisy, as one who
knows. "Hannah found him 'most dead in
your bed this morning, 'tween the mattresses,
and she said you must have put him there last
night, but you didn't know it, and afterwards
he killed hisse'f about it. I saw him when he
was dead, and going to be frowed away."</p>
<p>Nellie shuddered, the thought was very painful
to her that the mouse should have come to
his death in such a way; but Carrie felt worse
still, and turning round and resting her arm
upon the back of a rustic chair which stood
beneath a tree, she laid her head upon it, and
cried as she had done in the morning when she
was hiding in the garret. Nellie comforted
her as well as she could, but Carrie was hard
to be consoled; and felt as if she was never to
hear the last of those unlucky mice, and the
consequences of her own naughtiness.</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom sat up late that night, long
after his visitor had left, and the family gone
to rest. All his little children he supposed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
be long since fast asleep; and he was just
preparing to turn out the lights and go upstairs
himself, when a slight sound in the hall
without attracted his attention. The patter
of small bare feet it sounded like, and the
patter of small bare feet it was, as he was assured
a moment later when a little white-clad
figure presented itself at the open door, and
looked wistfully at him with pitiful, beseeching
eyes.</p>
<p>"Carrie! my child! are you ill? What is
wrong?" he asked in much surprise.</p>
<p>"No, papa, not ill, but,—but"—Tears
choked her voice, the little feet ran over the
floor, and she had clambered upon his knee,
and with her face hidden in his bosom sobbed
out her confession.</p>
<p>"I've been awake so long, papa," she said,
"and I thought I never could go to sleep till
I had told you, and I could not wait till morning,
so I came out of my bed down here to find
you. Oh! please forgive me, and do you think
mamma can ever forgive me for being so cruel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
to her, and trying to think it was all nonsense
about her being so afraid of mice? And then
to think that poor little mouse was killed just
for me! Nellie and I never knew he was
there when we turned the bed over, but he
wouldn't have been in our room if I had not
brought the mice upstairs; and now Ruth says
she don't know when we'll be rid of them, and
mamma will be troubled and frightened with
them for ever so long. And Nellie and Daisy
have been real helps to mamma, and I talked
so much about helping her too, but I've only
been a bother and trouble to her, and never
did a thing for her after all."</p>
<p>All this, and much more, the sorrowful little
penitent poured into her father's ear.</p>
<p>Mr. Ransom had no mind to punish or scold
her: he saw that she was already sufficiently
punished by the remorse and anxiety she had
brought upon herself, and he thought that
this was likely to prove a lasting lesson to her.
Besides, the thing was quite a new offence of
its kind; for Carrie was generally not only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
obedient, but also regardful of what she believed
to be her mother's wishes, whether expressed
or not; and he did not desire to be
hard with her now that she saw her fault so
plainly, and was in such a humble, repentant
frame of mind.</p>
<p>So although he talked seriously to her, he
did so very kindly and quietly,—poor Carrie
thought she had never known her father so
kind,—nor did he talk very long that night, but
soon carried her up to bed in his arms, quite
soothed and comforted; and so great was the
relief of the confession, that the poor little
weary head was scarcely on the pillow before
she was fast asleep.</p>
<p>No sooner were she and Nellie awake in the
morning than she told her sister the whole
story, feeling that she could no longer keep
the secret from her, but making her promise
not to tell the boys, lest they should tease
her, which Carrie felt she could not bear.</p>
<p>The hardest of all was yet to come, the confession
to her dear, gentle, tender mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
Mamma would look so surprised and grieved,
would be so shocked to think she could be so
cruelly thoughtless.</p>
<p>But it was gone through with bravely, not
very steadily it is true, for Carrie's voice
failed her more than once, but she did not
attempt to hide or excuse any thing.</p>
<p>And oh! how much lighter her heart was
when it was over, and mamma knew the
worst.</p>
<p>Perhaps Mrs. Ransom was not as much surprised
as Carrie had expected she would be:
it may be that she was prepared to hear the
story which Carrie had believed would shock
and distress her so much; and the readiness
with which she granted her forgiveness but
made her little daughter feel all the more repentant
for having been so heedless of her
comfort.</p>
<p>It was a healing repentance now, though,
with the sting and bitterness gone from it;
and Carrie felt as if she should never be fretful
and cross again; no, not even with Ruth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
She would try to be so helpful, so considerate
and good now, she thought; but she would
make no "fuss" about it, or talk as though
she meant to do such very fine things, only to
fail after all perhaps.</p>
<p>Nellie and Daisy had said and promised far
less than she had done, but their actions had
spoken for them.</p>
<p>"What is that you are doing, Nellie?" she
asked, when all the little housekeeping tasks
accomplished, her reading and practising finished,
Nellie brought her workbox and sat
down to sew. "Why! those are the slippers
mamma was going to work for Johnny, are
they not?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Nellie.</p>
<p>"And are you going to help her with
them?"</p>
<p>"I am going to work them all," answered
Nellie. "Mamma began them, but she found
it tired her eyes, and she was anxious that
Johnny should not be disappointed, so I told
her I would work them."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p>
<p>Carrie sat a moment silent.</p>
<p>"And I suppose," she said at length, "that
that was the reason you said you would not
have time to make the bracket for mamma?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Nellie, quietly.</p>
<p>"O Nellie!" said Carrie, "how much
better you are than I am. You are a real,
true help to mamma: you think of and you do
what is really useful to her, but you don't talk
about doing such great things. And Daisy,
too; when I think about her giving up her
white mice that she really had a right to keep,
'cause mamma said she could, I do feel too
ashamed and mean for any thing. Nellie,"—after
another little thoughtful pause,—"do you
think a good way to show mamma how sorry
I am would be to spend all my saved-up money
for mouse-traps?"</p>
<p>"Well, no, I don't," said Nellie. "I do not
think that would do any good, for papa has
bought several this morning; and there is one
set in every room in the house, so that we hope
the mice will soon all be caught."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p>
<p>"Then what can I do to show mamma how
sorry I am?" asked Carrie.</p>
<p>"I think mamma knows it already, dear;
and the best way is just to be careful to think
about what she would like, and then to be very
sure to do it;—and—and I think one good
way would be not to quarrel with Ruth, and
not to make trouble in the nursery."</p>
<p>"Ruth is so hateful," murmured Carrie.</p>
<p>"I don't think Ruth would be cross to you
if you would be a little more patient and good
in the nursery," said Nellie. "You know,
Carrie, dear, how often poor mamma has to go
to the nursery to make peace, or to take the
baby, because you will not wait for what you
want, or will not stand quiet to be dressed, or
something like that."</p>
<p>"Yes," owned Carrie, half reluctantly, "and
Ruth never does be cross to you or Daisy;
and when I am good she is pretty decent.
But, Nellie, such things as that do not seem
like a real help."</p>
<p>"But they <i>are</i> the best help: mamma says<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
so, and I've found it out for myself, Carrie,"
said Nellie.</p>
<p>"Nellie, would you ever have believed that
I could do such a thing as to keep those
mice?"</p>
<p>"I was surprised when you told me," answered
her sister, "but I was just thinking,
Carrie, that it was really not so very much
worse than the way I behaved while I was
studying so much and tiring myself out over
those 'Bible subjects.' I think I was horrid to
mamma and to all of you then."</p>
<p>"Yes, you were," said tactless Carrie.</p>
<p>"I was thinking so much more about being
wise and knowing a great deal than about
being good and a help to mamma," continued
Nellie, not offended, though she had winced a
little at Carrie's plain speaking, "that it seems
to me now that I was almost as naughty as—as"—</p>
<p>"As I was to keep the mice?" said Carrie.</p>
<p>"Yes, as you were to keep the mice. I
don't think I thought any more about mamma<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
than you did, and I know several times I made
a good deal of trouble for her which might
have been helped if I had been more careful."</p>
<p>"You've quite given up your Bible subjects,
haven't you?" asked Carrie.</p>
<p>"Yes, I made up my mind to be contented
with those I had. They would show Miss
Ashton I had thought of what she said, but I
know she would think it was right for me to
leave them. I've made up my mind too,
Carrie, not to be so very anxious about my
books and studies."</p>
<p>Here Daisy came running up to them.</p>
<p>"Nellie, what'll make me grow very fast?"</p>
<p>"I don't know," said Nellie: "what do you
want to grow very fast for?"</p>
<p>"So I can have a birdie," said Daisy. "Papa
said I was too little now, least he said he would
give me one when I was bigger. If I was to
plant myse'f and then pour water on my foots
like they do on the flowers' foots, then wouldn't
I grow pretty fast?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p>
<p>"No," said Nellie, "you'd only be all wet
and muddy, and then you'd be sick."</p>
<p>Daisy sighed.</p>
<p>"Oh, I do want a birdie so," she said. "I'd
love my birdie more'n my white mice; oh! a
great deal more. Nellie, if I was a birdie, or
a white mouse, would you love me the most?"</p>
<p>"I'd love you whatever you were," said
Nellie, turning to kiss the sweet, dimpled
cheek beside her: "I couldn't help it."</p>
<p>"If I was an ugly bug crawling about,
would you love me?" questioned Daisy.</p>
<p>Nellie laughed.</p>
<p>"Yes, I'd try to," she answered.</p>
<p>"Nellie, if I was that ugly bug crawling
about, would you smash me?"</p>
<p>"Not if you were not doing any harm," said
Nellie. "That would be cruel."</p>
<p>"I'm glad," said Daisy, with unmistakable
signs of relief in the assurance. "I wouldn't
like my sister to smash me even if I was a bug.
Nellie, mamma said God sometimes made people
sorry 'cause He thought it was good for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
'em to make 'em better: does He send bugs
and spiders 'cause it is good for 'em too, and
birdies just to make 'em glad?"</p>
<p>Daisy's questions were sometimes quite beyond
Nellie's powers of answering: indeed they
often puzzled older and wiser people. But she
tried to explain to her little sister that even
bugs and spiders were made for some good purpose;
and after this Daisy looked with more
respect upon those obnoxious creatures, and
was even upon one occasion heard to say,—</p>
<p>"Good, little, very ugly spider, maybe God
has some work for you to do, so I won't smash
you, but let you do it."</p>
<p>While Nellie was talking to Daisy, Carrie
rose and went in search of her father. She
found him in the library.</p>
<p>"Papa," she said, going close to him, "I
think I ought to ask you to give my bird to
Daisy. She deserves it a great deal more than
I do for giving up her white mice, and I do not
think I ought to have it. Nellie will take care
of it for her, and she does want a bird so
much."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p>
<p>Mr. Ransom lifted her upon his knee.</p>
<p>"You really think this, Carrie? You really
wish that Daisy should have your bird?"</p>
<p>"Yes, papa, it really seems the most right
for her to have it. I thought so ever since you
brought the birds home and she wanted one so
much, but I felt as if I could not tell you to
give her mine; but now I think I would feel
better if you let her have it instead of me."</p>
<p>"Do as you please, my dear child," said her
father, kissing her. "Daisy certainly does
deserve a reward for her self-sacrifice."</p>
<p>To describe Daisy's delight when Carrie
took her up stairs, and leading her up to the
bird said that it was hers, would be quite impossible.</p>
<p>"Are you sure you don't mind, Carrie?
Would you just as lieve I'd have him, for my
own?" she exclaimed. "Oh! I am so glad,
so glad! When I have a camel wif two humps
on his back, I'll give him to you, Carrie,—I
really will."</p>
<p>The bird was henceforth called Daisy's, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
I believe that he afforded quite as much satisfaction
to the former little owner as he did to
the present one; for she had the care of him
as much as if she had kept him for her own;
and it was thought best that he should still
hang in her room so that he might not be
separated from Nellie's bird.</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<p>And now good-by to my "Little Sunbeams."
If they have shed light in any shady places,
brightened any youthful eyes, or cheered any
innocent hearts; if they have poured even the
faintest ray upon the safe and narrow path
which leadeth upward to Eternal Light,—the
recompense is great; and may the blessing of
the Master go with them, and prosper them,
it may be, for His glory.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class='tnote'><div class='center'><b>Transcriber's Note</b></div>
<p>Page 17, "Neilie" changed to "Nellie" (Nellie ran down to meet)</p>
<p>Page 64, "reponsibility" changed to "responsibility" (of all this responsibility)</p>
<p>Page 74, "oppsite" changed to "opposite" (into the opposite)</p></div>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45751 ***</div>
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