[Illustration: LITTLE GRANDMOTHER. --Page 90. ]

LITTLE PRUDY'S

FLYAWAY SERIES

[Illustration]

LITTLE GRANDMOTHER

ILLUSTRATED

LEE & SHEPARD, BOSTON. 

_LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES. _

LITTLE GRANDMOTHER. 

BY

SOPHIE MAY, AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES, " "DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES, " "THE DOCTOR'SDAUGHTER, " ETC. 

_ILLUSTRATED. _

BOSTON:LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 

NEW YORK:LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. 

1873. 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, BY LEE AND SHEPARD, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 

Electrotyped and Printed at the Establishment ofW. W. HARDING, Philadelphia. 

 TO

 MY LITTLE CUBAN FRIEND

 _MARIA AROZARENA. _

_LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES. _

TO BE COMPLETED IN SIX VOLS. 

 1. LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY. 

 2. PRUDY KEEPING HOUSE. 

 3. AUNT MADGE'S STORY. 

 4. LITTLE GRANDMOTHER. 

 (Others in preparation. )

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE

I. GEORGE WASHINGTON, 9

II. THE SAMPLER, 24

III. THE BROKEN BRIDGE, 31

IV. THE TITHING-MAN, 44

V. A WITCH-TALK, 56

VI. A WITCH-FRIGHT, 67

VII. THE SILK POCKET, 83

VIII. PATTY'S SUNDAY, 99

IX. MRS. CHASE'S BOTTLE, 110

X. MASTER PURPLE, 122

XI. LITTLE GRANDFATHER, 134

XII. THE LITTLE DIPPER, 144

XIII. MR. STARBIRD'S DREAM, 160

XIV. SPINNING, 176

XV. THE BRASS KETTLE, 186

LITTLE GRANDMOTHER

CHAPTER I. 

GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

I believe I will tell you the story of Grandma Parlin's littlechildhood, as nearly as possible in the way I have heard her tell itherself to Flyaway Clifford. 

 * * * * *

Well, then, Grandma Parlin, her face full of wrinkles, lay in bed undera red and green patchwork quilt, with her day-cap on. That is, the onewho was going to be Grandma Parlin some time in the far-off future. 

She wouldn't have believed it of herself now if you had told her. Youmight as well have talked to the four walls. Not that she was deaf: shehad ears enough; it was only brains she lacked--being exactly six hoursold, and not a day over. 

This was more than seventy years ago, little reader, for she was born onNew Year's day, 1800, --born in a town we will call Perseverance, amongthe hills in Maine, in a large, unpainted house, on the corner of twostreets, in a bedroom which looked out upon the east. 

Her mother, who was, of course, our little Flyaway's great grandmother, lay beside her, with a very happy face. 

"Poor little lamb, " said she, "you have come into this strange worldjust as the new century begins; but you haven't the least idea what youare undertaking!--I am going to call this baby Patience, " said she tothe nurse; "for if she lives she will have plenty of trouble, andperhaps the name will help her bear it better. "

And then the good woman lay silent a long while, and prayed in her heartthat the little one might grow up in the fear of the Lord. She hadbreathed the same wish over her other eight children, and now for thisninth little darling what better prayer could be found?

"She's the sweetest little angel picter, " said Siller Noonin, smoothingbaby's dot of a nose; "I guess she's going to take after your side ofthe house, and grow up a regular beauty. "

"We won't mind about looks, Priscilla, " said Mrs. Lyman, who wasremarkably handsome still. "'Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain; butthe woman that feareth the Lord shall be praised. '"

"Well, well, what a hand Mrs. Lyman is for Scripter, " thought Siller, asshe bustled to the fireplace, and began to stir the gruel which wasboiling on the coals. Then she poured the gruel into a blue bowl, tasting it to make sure it was salted properly. Mrs. Lyman kept her eyesclosed all the while, that she might not see it done, for it was notpleasant to know she must use the spoon after Priscilla. 

The gruel was swallowed, Mrs. Lyman and the baby were both asleep, andthe nurse had taken out her knitting, when she heard some one step intothe south entry. 

"I wonder who that is, " thought Siller; "it's my private opinion it'ssomebody come to see the new baby. "

She knew it was not one of the family, for the older children had allgone to school and taken their dinners, and the two little ones werespending the day at their aunt Hannah's. Now it was really no particularbusiness of Siller Noonin's who was at the door. Squire Lyman was in the"fore room, " and Betsey Gould, "the help, " in the kitchen. Siller wasnot needed to attend to callers; but when she was "out nursing" shealways liked to know what was going on in every part of the house, andwas often seen wandering about with her knitting in her hands. 

As she stole softly out of the bedroom now, not to waken Mrs. Lyman, sheheard Mr. Bosworth talking to Squire Lyman, and was just in time tocatch the words, --

"The poor General! The doctors couldn't do nothing for him, and hedied. "

"Not _our_ General?" cried Siller, dropping her knitting-work. 

"Yes, George Washington, " replied the visitor, solemnly. 

Siller leaned back against the open door, too much excited to notice howthe cold air was rushing into the house. "General Washington! When didhe die? and what was the matter of him?" gasped she. "Speak low; Iwouldn't have Mrs. Lyman get hold of it for the world!"

"He died a Saturday night, the fourteenth of last month, of somethinglike the croup, as near as I can make out, " said Mr. Bosworth. 

Squire Lyman shook his head sorrowfully, and put another stick of woodon the fire. 

"Mrs. Noonin, " said he, "will you have the goodness to shut that door?"

Siller shut the door, and walked to the fire with her apron at her eyes. "O dear, O dear, how quick the news has come! Only a little over afortnight! Here it is a Wednesday. Where was I a Saturday night afortnight ago? O, a settin' up with old Mrs. Gould, and little did Ithink--Why, I never was so beat! _Do_ you suppose the Britishers willcome over and go to fighting us again? There never was such a man asGeneral Washington! What _shall_ we do without him?"

Siller's voice was pitched very high, but she herself supposed she wasspeaking just above her breath. Mr. Bosworth stamped his snowy boots onthe husk mat, and was just taking out his silk handkerchief, whenSiller, who knew what a frightful noise he always made blowing his nose, seized his arm and whispered, --

"Hush, we're keeping the house still? I don't know as you know we've gotsick folks in the bedroom. "

As she spoke there was a sudden sharp tinkle of the tea-bell--Mrs. Lyman's bell--and Priscilla ran back at once to her duty. 

"Where have you been?" said Mrs. Lyman, "and what did I hear you sayabout George Washington?"

There was a fire in the lady's mild, blue eyes, which startledPriscilla. 

"You've been dozing off, ma'am, " said she, soothingly. "I hadn't beengone more'n a minute; but folks does get the _cur'usest_ notions, dreaming like in the daytime. "

"There, that will do, " said the sweet-voiced lady, with a keen glance atthe nurse's red eyelids; "you mean well, but the plain truth is alwayssafest. You need not try to deceive me, and what is more, you can't doit, Priscilla. "

Then the nurse had to tell what she had heard, though it was too sad astory to come to the sick woman's ears; for every man, woman, and childin the United States loved the good George Washington, and must grieveat the news of his death. 

Mrs. Lyman said nothing, but lay quite still, looking out of the windowupon the white fields and the bare trees, till the baby began to cry, and Siller came to take it away. 

"Bless its little heart, " said the nurse, holding it against hertear-wet cheek; "it's born into this world in a poor time, so it is. Nowonder it feels bad. Open its eyes and look around. See, Pinky Posy, this is a free country now, and has been for over twenty years; but it'smy private opinion it won't stay so long, for the Father of it is deadand gone! O, Mrs. Lyman, what awful times there'll be before this childgrows up!"

"Don't borrow trouble, Priscilla. The world won't stop because one manis dead. It is God's world, and it moves. "

"But, Mrs. Lyman, do you think the United States is going to holdtogether without General Washington?"

"Yes, to be sure I do; and my baby will find it a great deal betterplace to live in than ever you or I have done; now you mark my words, Priscilla. "

All the people of Perseverance considered Mrs. Lyman a very wise woman, and when she said, "Now you mark my words, " it was as good as ElderLovejoy's amen at the end of a sermon. Priscilla wiped her eyes andlooked consoled. After what Mrs. Lyman had said, she felt perfectly easyabout the United States. 

"Well, baby, " said she, "who knows but you'll see great times, afterall, in your day and generation?"

And upon that the baby went to sleep quite peacefully, though withoutever dreaming of any "great times. "

Ah, if Siller could only have guessed what wonderful things that babywas really going to see "in her day and generation!" The good woman hadnever heard of a railroad car, or a telegraph wire, or a gaslight. Howshe would have screamed with astonishment if any one had told her thatMiss Patience would some time go whizzing through the country withouthorses, and with nothing to draw the carriage but a puff of smoke! Orthat Miss Patience would warm her feet at a hole in the floor (forSiller had no idea of our furnaces). Or that Miss Patience'sgrandchildren would write letters to her with lightning (for atelegraph is almost the same thing as that). 

But, no; Siller was only thinking about some cracker toast and a cup oftea, and wondering if it was time to set the heel in her stocking. Andbefore she had counted off the stitches, the children came home fromschool, and she had more than she could do to keep the house still. 

Little Moses, two years old, had to see the new baby, and in a fit ofindignation almost put her eyes out with his little thumbs; for whatright had "um naughty sing" in his red cradle?

But Moses soon found he could not help himself; and as "um naughty sing"did not seem to mean any harm, he gave up with a good grace. 

Days, weeks, and months passed on. Siller Noonin went to other houseswith her knitting-work, and Patience cut her teeth on a wooden plate, took the whooping-cough, and by that time it was her turn to give up;for another baby came to the house, and wanted that same red cradle. Itwas a boy, and his name was Solomon. And after that there was anotherboy by the name of Benjamin; and Benjamin was the only one who never hadto give up, for he was always the youngest. That made eleven children inall: James, John, Rachel, and Dorcas; the twins, Silas and George; andthen Mary, Moses, Patience, Solomon, and Benjamin. 

There was a great deal to be done in the house, for there were two largefarms, with cattle and sheep, and two men who lived at Squire Lyman'sand took care of the farms. Milk had to be made into butter and cheese, and wool into blankets and gowns, and there was generally only one girlin the kitchen to help to do all the work. Her name was Betsey Gould, and she was strong and willing; and Rachel and Dorcas each did hershare, and so did even little Mary; but they could not do everything. The dear mother of all had to spin and weave, and bake and brew, andpray every hour in the day for strength and patience to do her wholeduty by such a large family. 

They were pretty good children, but she did not have so much time toattend to them as mothers have in these days, and they did not alwayslook as tidy or talk as correctly as you do, my dears. You must notexpect too much of little folks who lived before the time of railroads, in a little country town where there were no Sabbath schools, and hardlyany news-papers. 

It is of Patience Lyman, the one who afterwards became Grandma Parlin, that I shall have most to say. She was usually called Patty, for short(though Patty is really the pet name for Martha instead of Patience), and she was, as nearly as I can find out, very much such a child asFlyaway Clifford--with blue eyes, soft light hair, and little feet thatwent dancing everywhere. 

And now, if you think you know her well enough, perhaps you would liketo go to school with her a day or two, about three quarters of a mileaway from home. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE SAMPLER. 

How do you think she was dressed? In a "petticoat and loose gown. " Theloose gown was a calico jacket that hung about the waist in gathers, andthe petticoat was a moreen skirt that came down almost to the ankles. Then her feet--I must confess they were bare. Nearly all the littlechildren in Perseverance went barefooted in summer. 

Patty had been longing for an education ever since she was two yearsold, and at three and a half she was allowed to go to school. All theother children had been taught the alphabet at home, for Mrs. Lyman wasa very considerate woman, and did not think it fair to trouble a teacherwith baby-work like that; but this summer she had so much to do, withlittle Benny in her arms and Solly under her feet, that she was only tooglad to have talkative Patty out of the way. 

So, just as the stage-horn was blowing, at half past eight one brightJune morning, Mary put into the dinner basket an extra saucer pie, sweetened with molasses, and walked the little one off to school. Whatschool was Patty had no idea. She had heard a great deal about the new"mistress, " and wondered what sort of a creature she could be. She soonfound out. Miss Judkins was merely a fine-looking young lady, with atortoise-shell comb in her hair, not quite as large as a smallchaise-top. She looked like other people, and Patty was sadlydisappointed. There was an hour-glass on the desk full of dripping sand, and Patty wanted to shake it to make the sand go out faster, for shegrew very tired of sitting still so long hearing the children read, "Pretty cow, go there and dine. " She was afraid to say her letters; butafter she had said them, was much prouder than the Speaker of the Senateafter he has made a very eloquent speech. She had nothing more to do, and watched the little girls working their samplers. Her sister Mary, not yet eight years old, was making a beautiful one, with a flower-potin one corner and a tree and birds in the other, and some lines in themiddle like these:--

"EDUCATION. 

 "Be this Miss Mary's care: Let this her thoughts engage; Be this the business of her youth, The comfort of her age. "

Patty looked on, and watched Mary's needle going in and out, makinglittle red crooks. She did not know the silk letters, and would not haveunderstood the verse if she had heard it read; but neither did the bigsister understand it herself. 

"Be _this_ the business of her youth, " Mary thought meant the _sampler_, for really that sampler _had_ been the business of her youth ever sinceshe had learned to hold a needle, and the tree wasn't done yet, and theflowers were flying out of the flower-pot on account of having no stemsto stand on. Patty was ashamed because she herself had no canvass withsilk pictures on it to carry out to the "mistress. " The more shethought about it, the more restless she grew, till before noon she fellto crying, and said aloud, --

"_I_ want to work a _sambler_; yes, I do. "

Miss Judkins told Mary she had better take her home. Patty feltdisgraced, and cried all the way, she did not really know what for. Sometimes she thought it was because the school was such a poor place togo to, and then again she thought it was because she wanted to work a"sambler. " When they got home she did not wait till they were fairly inthe house, but called out, with a loud voice, --

"O, mamma! She's only a woman! The mistress is only a woman!"

That was all the way she had of telling how cruelly disappointed shefelt in the school. 

Mrs. Lyman had just put the baby in the cradle, and was now rockinglittle Solly, who was crying with a stone bruise in the bottom of hisfoot. Betsey Gould was washing, Dorcas and Rachael were making dresses, and the dinner must be put on the table. No wonder tired Mrs. Lyman wassorry to see Patty come home crying, or that she laid her pale, tiredface against Solly's cheek when Patty whined, "Mayn't I work a sambler?"and said, in a low tone, as if she were breathing a prayer, --

"Let patience have her perfect work. "

Patty had often heard her poor, overburdened mother make that sameremark, but had never understood it before. Now she thought it meant, "Let my daughter Patience have a sambler to work;" and she cleared theclouds off her little face, and went dancing out to see the newgoslings. Mary, who was thoughtful beyond her years, coaxed Solly intoher arms, and soothed him with a little story, so that her mother couldgo and take up the dinner. 

Patty found out next day that she was not to have a sampler; but toconsole her Mary hemmed a large piece of tow and linen cloth, and toldher she might learn to work on it with colored thread. It was a funnylooking thing after Patty had scrawled it all over with Greek andHebrew; but it was a wonderful help to the child's feelings. 

She was a great pet at school, and grew quite fond of going; but shetells Flyaway she does not remember much more that happened, after shebegan that sampler, until the next spring. At that time she was a triflemore than four years old. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE BROKEN BRIDGE. 

It was early in April, and the travelling was very bad, for the frostwas just coming out of the ground. Mary, Moses, and the twins attended aprivate school, on the other side of the river, and Patty went withthem; but they were all rather tired of her company. 

"Mother, we're afraid she'll get lost in one of the holes, " said Moses. "Won't you make her stay at home?"

Mrs. Lyman stood before the brick oven, taking out of it some blackenedcobs which had been used for smoking hams, and putting them into a dishof water. 

"What are you doing with those cobs?" asked Moses, while Patty caught ather mother's skirts, saying, --

"I won't lose me in a hole, mamma! Mayn't I go to school?"

"I will tell you what I am doing with the cobs, Moses, " said Mrs. Lyman;"making pearlash water. I shall soak them a while, and then pour off thewater into bottles. Cob-coals make the very best of pearlash. "

How queer that seems to us! Why didn't Mrs. Lyman send to the store andbuy soda? Because in those days there was no such thing as soda. 

"But as for Patience, " said she, "I really don't see, Moses, how I canhave her stay at home _this_ week. Rachel is weaving, Dorcas isspinning, and the baby is cutting a tooth. Just now my hands are morethan full, my son. "

Patty was delighted to hear that. It never once occurred to her to feelashamed of being such a trial to everybody. Dorcas tied her hood, pinnedher yellow blanket over her little shoulders, kissed her good by, andoff she trotted between Mary and Moses, full of triumph andself-importance. 

There was only a half-day's school on Saturday, and as the children weregoing home that noon, George said, --

"I call this rather slow getting ahead. Patty creeps like a snail. "

"Because her feet are so small, " said kind-hearted Mary. 

"They are twice as big as common with mud, I am sure, " returned George;whereupon Silas laughed; for whatever either of the twins said, theother twin thought it very bright indeed. 

"There, don't plague her, Georgie, " said Mary, "Moses and I have got asmuch as _we_ can do to get her home. I tell you my arms ache pulling!"

As she spoke a frightful noise was heard, --not thunder, it was tooprolonged for that; it was a deep, sullen roar, heard above the wail ofthe wind like the boom of Niagara Falls. Very soon the children saw forthemselves what it meant. _The ice was going out!_

There was always more or less excitement to these little folks, --and, indeed, to the grown folks too, --in the going out of the ice, for itusually went at a time when you were least expecting it. 

This was a glorious sight! The ice was very thick and strong, and thefreshet was hurling it down stream with great force. The blocks werewhite with a crust of snow on top, but they were as blue at heart as abed of violets, and tumbled and crowded one another like an immensecompany of living things. The tide was sending them in between greatheaps of logs, and the logs were trying to crush them to pieces, whilethey themselves rushed headlong at terrible speed. The sun came out of acloud, and shone on the ice and logs in their mad dance. Then the whiteblocks quivered and sparkled like diamonds, and the twins cried outtogether, "How splendid!"

"Pretty! pretty!" chimed in little Patty, falling face downwards into amud puddle. 

"Well, that's pretty works, " said Moses, picking her up, and partiallycleansing her with his gingham pocket-handkerchief. 

"Hallo, there!" shouted Mr. Griggs, the toll-gatherer, appearing at thedoor of his small house with both arms above his head. "Children, children, stop! Don't you come anigh the bridge for your lives!"

"Oh, it's going off! its going off!" cried the five Lymans in concert. 

They forgot to admire any longer the magnificent sight. The ice might beglorious in its beauty; but, alas, it was terrible in its strength!

How could they get home? That was the question. They could see theirfather's house in the distance; but how and when were they to reach it?It might as well have been up in the moon. 

"They can't come after us, " wailed Mary, wringing her hands; "'twill bedays and days before they can put a boat into this river. "

"What shall we do?" groaned Moses; "we can't sleep on the ground. "

"With nothing to eat, " added George, who remembered the brick-red Indianpudding they were to have had for dinner. 

"Don't be scared, children; go ahead, " said Dr. Hilton, from the bank. 

"What! Would you have 'em risk their lives?" said the timidtoll-gatherer. "Look at them blocks crowding up against the piers! Hearwhat a thunder they make! And the logs swimming down in booms! You stepinto our house, children, and my wife and the neighbors, we'll contriveto stow you away somewheres. "

Crowds of people were collecting on the bank watching the ice go out. 

"Well, you are in a pretty fix, children, " said one of the men. "Howdid your folks happen to let you come?"

The Lymans stood dumb and transfixed. 

"Hurry! Why don't you step lively?" said Dr. Hilton, and two or threeother men. 

"Stay where you are, children, " cried Mr. Chase and Dr. Potter from theother bank. 

"If we could only see father!" said one of the twins. Brave as they boththought themselves, the roaring torrent appalled them. 

Suddenly there was a shout from the other end of the bridge as loud andshrill as a fog-bell:--

"Children, come home! George! Silas! Mary? Be quick?"

It was Squire Lyman's voice. 

"What shall we do?" cried Mary, running round and round. 

"'Twon't do to risk it, neighbor Lyman, " screamed the toll-gatherer. 

"Children, run! there is time, " answered the father, hoarsely. 

It was Mary who called back again, "Yes, father, we'll come. "

For the twins did not seem to feel clear what to do. "He knows, " thoughtshe. "What father tells us to do must be right. "

She stepped firmly upon the shaking bridge. For an instant Moseshesitated, then followed with Patty; and after him came the twins, withtheir teeth firmly set. 

"Quick! quick!" screamed Squire Lyman. "Run for your lives!"

"Run! run!" echoed the people on both banks; but Mr. Griggs's tongueclove to the roof of his mouth. 

The roaring torrent and the high wind together were rocking the bridgelike a cradle. If it had not been for Patty! All the rest could run. Itseemed as if the mud on the child's shoes had turned to lead. She hung, crying and struggling, a dead weight between Moses and Mary, who pulledher forward, without letting her little toddling feet touch the ground. 

The small procession of five, how eagerly everybody watched it! The poortoll-gatherer, if he had had the courage, would have run after thechildren, and snatched them back from their doom. Every looker-on wasanxious; yet all the anxiety of the multitude could not equal theagonizing suspense in that one father's heart. He thought he knew thestrength of the piers; he thought he could tell how long they wouldstand against the ice; but what if he had made a mistake?

The children did not get on quite as fast as he had expected. Everymoment seemed an age, for they were running for their lives!

It was over at last, the bridge was crossed, the children were safe!

The toll-gatherer, and the other people on the bank, set up a shout; butSquire Lyman could not speak. He seized Dr. Potter by the shoulder, andsank back against him, almost fainting. 

"Papa! O, papa!" cried Patty, whose little heart scarcely beat anyfaster than usual, in spite of all the fuss she had made, "I couldn'thelp but laugh!"

This little speech, so babyish and "Patty-like, " brought Squire Lyman tohimself, and he hugged the silly creature as if she stood for the wholefive children. 

"Father, it was a tough one, I tell you, " said Silas. 

"O, father, " said Moses, "if you knew how we trembled! With that baby topull over, too!"

"I'll tell you what I thought, " said Mary, catching her breath. "Ithough my father knew more than the toll-gatherer, and all the othermen. But anyway, if he didn't know, I'd have done what he said. "

"Bravo for my Polly, " said Squire Lyman, wiping his eyes. 

Just half an hour after this, when they were all safe at home, thebridge was snapped in two, and went reeling down stream. Squire Lymanclosed his eyes and shuddered. Of course no one could help thinking whatmight have happened if the children had been a little later; andeverybody fell to kissing Patty, for that had long been a family habitwhen any feeling came up which was too strong or too deep to beexpressed. 

The next day, in Mrs. Lyman's Sunday evening talk with the children, shetold them the trust Mary had shown in her father, when he asked her tocross the bridge, was just the feeling we should have towards ourheavenly Father, who is all-wise, and can never make mistakes; and thenshe gave them this verse to learn:--

 "Blessed is the man that maketh the Lord his trust. "

Patty forgot the verse very soon; but Mary remembered it as long as shelived. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE TITHING-MAN

One summer's day, two years or so after this, Moses was half sick with a"run-round" on his finger, and consented to go up in thespinning-chamber and play with Patty: he never played with girls when hewas well. Dorcas was at the little flax-wheel spinning linen, and Pattywas in a corner under the eaves, with her rag babies spread out beforeher, --quite a family of them. The oldest granddaughter was down withbrain fever, and she wanted Moses to bleed her. Moses did it with greatskill. When he practiced medicine, he pursued the same course Dr. Potterdid, their family physician; he bled and "cupped" Patty's dolls, andgave them strong doses of calomel and "jalap. "

[Illustration: DR. MOSES BLEEDS AND CUPS. --Page 45. ]

"Dorcas, " said Dr. Moses, looking up, with his jackknife in the air, "what's a witch?"

"A witch? Why, we call Patty a little witch sometimes when she tanglesthe flax and tries to spin. "

"O, I never!" exclaimed Patty, "only just once I--"

"No, no; I mean a real witch, " pursued Moses. "You know what I mean. Betsey Gould's mother puts Bible leaves under the churn to keep 'em outof the butter. "

"Bible leaves!" said Dorcas. "How did Mrs. Gould's Bible happen to betorn?"

"I don't know; but she puts horseshoes top o' the door, too, " addedMoses; "you know she does, Dorcas, and lots of other folks do it. Whatsort of things are witches? And what makes father and mother laugh about'em, when other folks are so afraid?"

"Because father and mother are wiser than most of the people in thislittle town. Perhaps I ought not to say it, Moses, but it's the truth. "

It was the truth, and Moses knew it very well. He was only talking toamuse himself, and to hear what Dorcas would say. You must remember thiswas more than sixty years ago, and Perseverance was a poor littlestruggling town, shut in among the hills, where the stage came onlytwice a week, and there were only two news-papers, and not very goodschools. The most intelligent families, such as the Lymans, Potters, andChases, laughed at the idea of witches, but there were some people whobelieved in them, and that very night little Patty was to have her headfilled with strange stories. 

You remember Siller Noonin, who was at Squire Lyman's when Patty wasborn? She was a widow, with not much of a home of her own, and wasalways going about from house to house nursing sick people, and doinglittle odds and ends of work. To-day she had dropped in at SquireLyman's to ask if Mrs. Lyman had any more knitting for her to do. In thenicely sanded sitting-room, or "fore-room, " as most of the people calledit, sat Dr. Hilton, leaning back upon the settle, trotting his foot. Hecalled himself a doctor, though I suppose he did not know much moreabout the human system than little Doctor Moses, up in thespinning-chamber. When old ladies were not very well, he advised them totake "brandy and cloves, and snakeroot and cinnamon;" and sometimes, ifthey happened to feel better after it, they thought Dr. Hilton knew agreat deal. 

"You are just the person--ah, I wanted to see, " said Dr. Hilton toPriscilla; "I've been all round looking you up. "

"Now that's strange, for I was on my way to your house, " said Siller, putting her hand to her side. "I don't feel well right here, and Ididn't know but you could tell me of some good bitters to take. "

Dr. Hilton felt Siller's pulse, looked at her tongue, and then said, with a wise roll of the eye, which almost set Rachel to laughing, "Iwould advise you, ma'am--ah, to get a quart--ah, of good brandy, andsteep some cloves in it, and some--ah, --some--ah, --"

"Snakeroot and cinnamon, " chimed in Rachel, looking up from her sewingwith a very innocent face. 

Now that was exactly what the Doctor was going to say, only he wastrying to say it very slowly, so that it would sound like somethingremarkable, and he did not like to have the words taken out of hismouth. No doctor would have liked it. 

"Well, well, young woman, " said he rising from the settle in a rage, "ifyou understand medicine better than I do, miss, I'll give up my patientsto you, and you may take charge of 'em. "

"Beg pardon, sir, " said Rachel; "I only wanted to help you. You seemedto have forgotten part of your bitters. "

It was very rude of Rachel to make sport of the Doctor, even though hewas only a quack; and her mother told her afterwards she was surprisedto see she was no more of a lady. 

"Mark my words, Rachel, " said Mrs. Lyman, "those who are careless aboutother people's feelings will have very few friends. "

Rachel blushed under her mother's glance, and secretly wished she wereas careful of her words as her sweet sister Dorcas. 

But I was going to tell you that Dr. Hilton had been looking forPriscilla, because he wished her to go and keep his house a few dayswhile his wife was gone on a visit. Siller told Mrs. Lyman she wasalways very lonesome there, because there were no children in the houseand begged that "the two small girls" might go and stay with her tillshe got a little used to it, --one night would do. 

Mrs. Lyman very seldom allowed Mary or Patience to be gone over night;but to oblige Priscilla, who was always such a good friend of thechildren in all their little sicknesses, she consented. 

"I shall take them with me to prayer meeting in the evening, " saidSiller. 

"Very well, " replied Mrs. Lyman. 

The little girls had never visited at Dr. Hilton's before, and were gladto go, but Patty did not know how much it would cost her. The house wasvery nice, and the white sand on the parlor floor was traced in patternsof roses and buds as fine as a velvet carpet. On the door-stone, at theeast side of the house, stood an iron kettle, with flaming red flowersgrowing in it, as bright as those on Mary's sampler. Mary said it seemedas if the kettle had been taken off the stove and set out there to cool. 

After a nice supper of hot biscuits, honey, cheese, and spice-cake, theyall started for prayer meeting, locking the house behind them; for Dr. Hilton had business in the next town, and was to be gone all night. 

Patty was not in the habit of sitting remarkably still, even at churchon the Sabbath; and as for a prayer meeting in a school-house, she hadnever attended one before, and the very idea of it amused her to beginwith. It was so funny to see grown people in those seats where thechildren sat in the daytime! Patty almost wondered if the minister wouldnot call them out in the floor to recite. The services were long, andgrew very dull. To pass away the time, she kept sliding off the backseat, which was much too high for her, and bouncing back again, twistingher head around to see who was there, or peeping through her fingers ata little boy, who peeped back again. 

Mary whispered to her to sit still, and Siller Noonin shook her head;but Patty did not consider Mary worth minding, and had no particularrespect for Siller. Finally, just at the close of a long prayer, shehappened to spy Daddy Wiggins, who was sleeping with his mouth open, andthe sight was too much for Patty: she giggled out-right. It was a veryfaint laugh, hardly louder than the chirp of a cricket; but it reachedthe sharp ears of Deacon Turner, the tithing-man, --the same one who satin church watching to see if the children behaved well, and he calledright out in meeting, in a dreadful voice, --

"_Patience Lyman!_"

If he had fired a gun at her head it would not have startled her more. It was the first time she had ever been spoken to in public, and shesank back in Mary's arms, feeling that all was over with her. Otherlittle girls had had their names called out, but they were generallythose whose parents did not take proper care of them, --rude children, and not the sort with whom Patty associated. 

O, what would her mother say? Was there any place where she could go andhide? Sally Potter would never speak to her again, and Linda Chase wouldthink she was a heathen child. 

She didn't care whether she ever had any new clothes to wear or not;what difference would it make to anybody that lived out in the barn? Andthat was where she meant to live all the rest of her days, --in one ofthe haymows. 

Kind sister Mary kept her arm round the sobbing child, and comfortedher, as well as she could, by little hugs. The meeting was soon over, and Patty was relieved to find that she had the use of her feet. Socrushed as she had been by this terrible blow, she had hardly supposedshe should be able to walk. 

CHAPTER V. 

A WITCH-TALK. 

"It was real mean and hateful of Deacon Turner, " says Mary, as they wentback to Dr. Hilton's. "You didn't giggle any, hardly, and he knew youdidn't mean to. I'll tell father, and he won't like it one bit. "

Patty choked back a sob. This was a new way of looking at things, andmade them seem a little less dreadful. Perhaps she wouldn't stay in thebarn forever; possibly not more than a year or two. 

"Deacon Turner is a very ha'sh man, " said Siller; "but if he'd stoppedto think twice, he wouldn't have spoken out so to one of you children;for you see your father is about the best friend he's got. He likes tokeep on the right side of Squire Lyman, and he must have spoke outbefore he thought. "

Patty drew a long breath. She began to think the Deacon was the one toblame, and she hadn't done any thing so very bad after all, and wouldn'tlive in the barn more than a day or two, if she did as long as that. 

She was glad she was not going home to-night to be seen by any of thefamily, especially Rachel. By the time they reached Dr. Hilton's she wasquite calm, and when Siller asked her if she would like some pancakesfor breakfast, she danced, and said, "O, yes, ma'am, " in her naturalvoice. 

But, as Siller said, they were all rather stirred up, and wouldn't bein a hurry about going to bed. Perhaps the blackberry tea they had drunkat supper time was too strong for Siller's nerves; at any rate, she feltso wide awake that she chose to sit up knitting, with Patty in her lap, and did not perceive that both the children were growing sleepy. 

It was a lovely evening, and the bright moon sailing across the blue skyset the simple woman to thinking, --not of the great and good God of whomshe had been hearing this evening, but, I am ashamed to say, of witches!

"I'm glad I've got company, " said she, nodding to Mary, "for there'skind of a creeping feeling goes over me such shiny nights as this. It'sjust the time for Goody Knowles to be out on a broomstick. "

"Why, Siller Noonin, " exclaimed Mary, "_you_ don't believe in suchfoolishness as that! I never knew you did before!"

Siller did not answer, for she suddenly remembered that Mrs. Lyman wasvery particular as to what was said before her children. 

"Tell me, Siller; you don't suppose witches go flying round when themoon shines?" asked Mary, curling her lip. 

"That's what folks say, child. "

"Well, I do declare, Siller, I thought _you_ had more sense. "

Mrs. Noonin's black eyes sparkled with anger. 

"That's free kind of talk for a little girl that's some related to SirWilliam Phips; that used to be Governor of this Commonwealth ofMassachusetts, " said she. 

"I never heard of Mr. Phips. "

"Well, that's nothing strange. He died over a hundred years ago; but_he_ didn't make fun of witches, I can tell you. He had 'em chained upso they couldn't hurt folks. "

"Hurt folks?" said little Patty. 

"Yes; you know witches have a way of taking various shapes, such as catsand dogs, and all sorts of creeturs, and going about doing mischief, "said Siller, with a solemn click of her knitting-needles. 

Mary's nose went farther up in the air. She had heard plenty about theSalem Witchcraft, and knew the stories were all as silly as silly canbe. 

"Didn't you never hear tell of that Joan of Arc over there to Salem?"went on Siller, who knew no more about history than a baby. 

"We've heard of _Noah's_ ark, " put in Patty. 

"Well, Joan was a witch, and took the shape of a man, and marched at thehead of an army, all so grand; but she got found out, and they burnt herup. It was fifty years ago or more. "

"Beg your pardon, Siller; but it was almost four hundred years ago, "said Mary; "and it wasn't in this country either, 'twas in France. Mother told me all about it; she read it in a book of history. "

Siller looked extremely mortified, and picked up a stitch withoutspeaking. 

"And besides that, " said Mary, "Joan of Arc was a beautiful young girl, and not a witch. I know some of the people called her so; but mothersays they were very foolish and wicked. "

"Well, I ain't a going to dispute your mother in her opinion of witches;she knows twice to my once about books; but that ain't saying she knowseverything, Polly Lyman, " returned Siller, laying down her knitting inher excitement; "and 'twill take more'n your mother to beat me out of myseven senses, when I've seen witches with my own naked eyes, and heard'em a talking to their gray cats. "

"Where? O, where?" cried little Patty. 

All the "witch" Siller had ever seen was an Englishwoman by the name ofKnowles, and the most she ever heard her say to her cat was "Poorpussy. " But Siller did not like to be laughed at by a little girl likePolly Lyman; so she tried to make it appear that she really knew someremarkable things. 

"Well, " said Mary, "I don't see why a gray cat is any worse to talk tothan a white one: why is it? Mrs. Knowles asked my mother if it washaving a gray cat that made folks call her a witch. --Siller, Mrs. Knowles wasn't the woman you meant, when you said you'd seen a witch?"

"Perhaps so--perhaps not. But what did your mother say when Mrs. Knowlesasked her that question?"

"Why, mother laughed, and told Mrs. Knowles not to part with her graycat, if it was good to catch mice. "

"Yes, yes. I know your mother don't believe any of these things that'sgoing; but either Goody Knowles is a witch, or else I am, " said Siller, her tongue fairly running away with her. 

"Why, Siller Noonin, what makes you think so?"

"Well, for one thing, she can't shed but three tears, and them out ofher left eye, " said Siller; "that I know to be a fact, for I've watchedher, and it's a sure sign. Then Daddy Wiggins, he weighed her onceagainst the church Bible, and she was the lightest, and that's anothersure sign. Moreover, he tried her on the Lord's Prayer, and she couldn'tgo through it straight to save her life. Did you ever mind GoodyKnowles's face, how it's covered with moles?"

"Do you mean those little brown things, " cried Patty, "with hair in themiddle? I've seen 'em lots of times; on her chin, too. "

"Yes, dear. Well, Polly, there never was a witch that didn't have molesand warts. "

"But what does Mrs. Knowles do that's bad?" says Mary, laughing alittle, but growing very much interested. 

"Well, she has been known to bewitch cattle, as perhaps you may haveheard. Last spring Daddy Wiggins's cows crept up the scaffold, --a thingcows never did afore. "

"O, but my father laughed about that. He said he guessed if Mr. Wiggins's cows had had hay enough, they wouldn't have gone out aftersome more; they'd have staid in the stalls. "

"It will do very well for your father to talk, " returned Siller, who wasgrowing more and more excited. "Of course Goody Knowles wouldn't bewitchany of _his_ creeturs; it's only her enemies she injures. And that makesme think, children, that it's kind of curious for us to be sitting heretalking about her. She _may_ be up on the ridge-pole of the house, --sheor one of her imps, --a hearing every word we say. "

"O, dear! O, dear!" cried Patty, curling her head under Siller's cape. 

"Nonsense, child. I was only in fun, " said the thoughtless Siller, beginning to feel ashamed of herself, for she had not intended to talkin this way to the children; "don't lets think any more about it. "

And with that she hurried the little girls off to bed; but by this timetheir eyes were pretty wide open, as you may suppose. 

CHAPTER VI. 

A WITCH-FRIGHT. 

Patty had forgotten all about her deep mortification, and never eventhought of Deacon Turner, the tithing-man. 

"Hark!" whispered she to Mary, "don't you hear 'em walking on the roofof the house?"

"Hear what?" said Mary, sternly. 

"Those things Siller calls creeturs--on broomsticks, " returned Patty. 

"Nonsense; go to sleep, child. "

Mary was too well instructed to be really afraid of witches; still shelay awake an hour or two thinking over what Siller had said, andhearing her cough drearily in the next chamber. Little Patty wassleeping sweetly, but Mary's nerves were quivering, she did not knowwhy, and

 "All things were full of horror and affright, And dreadful even the silence of the night. "

As she lay wishing herself safe at home in her own bed, there was asudden noise outside her window, --the sound of heavy footsteps. Whocould be walking there at that time of night? If it was a man, he mustwant to steal. Mary did not for a moment fancy it might be a woman, or a"creetur" on a broomstick, --she was too sensible for that; but you willnot wonder that, as she heard the footsteps come nearer and nearer, herheart almost stopped beating from fright. Siller had not coughed forsome time, and was very likely asleep. If so, there was no time to belost. 

Mary sprang out of bed, and ran down stairs, whispering, "Fire! Murder!Thieves!"

That wakened Patty, who ran after her, clutching at her night-dress, andcrying out, "A fief! A fief!"

For she had lost a front tooth the day before, and could not say"thief. "

It was a wonder they both did not fall headlong, going at such speed. 

Siller was in the kitchen, standing in the middle of the floor, with ared cloak on, staring straight before her, with a white, scared look. 

"Hush, children, for mercy's sake!" she whispered, putting herhandkerchief over Patty's mouth, "we're in a terrible fix! It's eitherthieves or murderers, or else it's witches. Yes, Polly Lyman, witches!"

"I don't hear the steps now, " said Mary. "O, yes I do, too; yes I do, too. "

By that time there was a loud knocking. 

"It must be witches; thieves wouldn't knock, " whispered Siller, tearingher back hair. "Hear 'em rattle that door! That was what it meant when Isaw that black cat, just before sundown, worritting the doctor's dog. Ithought then it was an imp. "

The door continued to rattle, and the children's teeth to chatter; alsoSiller's, all she had left in her head. 

"O, if we had a silver bullet, " said she, "that would clear 'em out. "

Poor little Patty! You may guess at the state of her mind when I tellyou she was speechless! For almost the first time in her life she wastoo frightened to scream. 

The knocking grew louder and louder; and Siller, seeing that somethingmust be done, and she was the only one to do it, began to behave like awoman. 

"Stop shaking so, children, " said she, with a sudden show of courage. "Keep a stiff upper lip! I've got an idea! It may be flesh and bloodthieves come after the doctor's chany tea-cups!"

"O, throw them out the window, " gasped Mary. 

"No, Polly; not while I'm a live woman, " replied Siller, who really hadsome sense when she could forget her fear of hobgoblins. "Into thehampshire, both of you, and let me button you in. "

The "hampshire" was a large cupboard, the lower part of which was halffilled with boxes and buckets; but the children contrived to squeezethemselves into it. 

"It isn't fair, though, " said Mary, putting her head out. "I ought tohelp you, Siller. Give me the shovel and tongs, and I will. "

Siller only answered by buttoning the hampshire door. 

Patty, feeling safer, screamed "Fief!" once more; and Mary gave her ashaking, which caused the child to bite her tongue; after which Maryhugged and kissed her with the deepest remorse. 

Who knew how long either of them had to live? What if the man shouldbreak down the kitchen door and get into the house? He was knockingharder than ever, and had been calling out several times, --

"Let me in! Why don't you let me in?"

"There, I do declare, that sounds like Dr. Hilton, " whispered Mary toPatty. 

And sure enough, next moment the voice of Siller was heard exclaiming, in the utmost surprise, --

"Bless me, doctor, you don't mean to say that's _you_!"

It was the most welcome sound that the little prisoners in the"hampshire" could possibly have heard. And the laugh, gruff and cracked, which came from the doctor's throat, as soon as he got fairly into thehouse, was sweeter than the song of a nightingale. 

"Let us out! Let us out!" cried they, knocking to be let out as hard asthe doctor had knocked to be let in, for Mary was beating the door witha bucket of sugar and Patty with a pewter porringer. But Siller was "allof a fluster, " and it was the doctor himself who opened the hampshiredoors after the little girls had almost pounded them down. 

They were both ashamed to be caught in their night-dresses, and ran upstairs as fast as they could go, but on the way overheard the doctorreproving Siller for giving "those innocent little children such ascare. " He was not a wise man, by any means, but he had good commonsense. 

"It is lucky my wife don't believe in witches, " said he, "for I'm aslikely to come home late at night as any way, and she'd be in hot waterhalf her time. "

Next morning the children were very glad to go home, and Mary, thoughshe would hardly have said so to any one, could not help thinking sheshould never like Siller Noonin quite so well after this as she had donebefore. 

They were climbing the fence to run across the fields, when some onesaid, --

"Patience Lyman!"

It was Deacon Turner, the tithing-man; but his voice was very mild thismorning, and he did not look like the same man Patty had seen at prayermeeting. His face was almost smiling, and he had a double red rose inhis hand. 

"Good morning, little ladies, " said he, giving the rose to Patty, whoblushed as red as the rose herself, and hung her head in bashful shame. 

"Thank you, sir, " she stammered. 

"I can't bring myself to believe you meant to disturb the meetin' lastnight, " said the deacon, taking her unwilling little hand. 

"No, O, no!" replied Patty, with dripping eyes. 

"It was in the school-'us, but then the school-'us is just as sacred asthe meetin'-'us, when it's used for religious purposes. I'm afeared, Patience, you forgot you went there to hold communion 'long of Hissaints. I'm afeared your mind warn't in a fit state to receive muchbenefit from the occasion. "

Patty felt extremely uncomfortable. Good Deacon Turner seldom took theleast notice of children--having none of his own, and no nieces ornephews;--and when he did try to talk to little folks, he always made asad piece of work of it. He did not know how to put himself in sympathywith them, and could not remember how he used to feel when he was young. 

"We shall always be glad to see you at the regular Wednesday evenin'prayer meetin', " said he, "or to the prayer meetin's in the school-'us;but you must remember it ain't like a meetin' for seckler pupposes, Patience, --it's for prayer, and praise, and the singing of psalms; andyou should conduct yourself in a circumspect and becoming manner, as isfittin' for the house of worship; and remember and feel that it's aprivilege for you to be there. "

This was about the way the deacon talked to Patty, and of course she didnot understand one word of it. She tells Flyaway Clifford and DottyDimple that grown people in old times almost always talked "too old, "and children were afraid of them. 

"Yes, my child, " added the deacon, "you should realize that it is aprecious privilege, and feel to say with the Psalmist, --

 "'I joyed when to the house of God, Go up, they said to me; Jerusalem, within thy walls, Our feet shall standing be. '"

Patty was crying by this time very loud, and there was a certain babyishsound in her wail which suddenly reminded Deacon Turner that he wastalking to a little girl, and not to a young woman. 

"There, there, now, don't cry, " said he, patting her head, for hersun-bonnet had fallen back on her neck, "you didn't mean to make fun ofreligion; I'm sartin sure of that. "

"No, I di-idn't, or if I did, I di-idn't mean to, " almost howled Patty. 

A grim smile overspread the deacon's face. The idea of an infant likethat making fun of religion!

"Somehow I was thinkin' you was an older child than what you be, " saidhe, rubbing her silky hair as roughly as a plough would go through a bedof flowers. The action almost drove Patty wild, but the good man meantit most kindly. 

"Let's see, I suppose you know your letters now?" added he, going to theother extreme, and talking to her as if she were very young indeed. "And, of course, your mother, who is a godly woman, has you say yourcatechism. Do you remember, my dear, who made you?"

The question caused Patty to raise her tearful eyes in astonishment. Didhe think a girl six and a half years old didn't know that?

"Yes, sir, " said she, meekly; "God made me. "

"Right, my dear; that's well said. You're not such a bad child afterall, and seem to have considerable sense. Here is a dollar for you, mylittle woman, and tell your mother I know she's bringing you up in theway you should go, and I hope when you are old you'll not depart fromit. "

Patty stared at the dollar through her tears, and it seemed to stareback again with a face almost as big as a full moon. 

"O, thank you, sir, " said she, with a deep courtesy. 

Never in her life had she owned a whole silver dollar before. How itdanced and shone! She held it tight, for it did not seem to be real, andshe was afraid it would melt or fly away before she could get it home. 

"Mother, O mother, " cried she, "see this live dollar! Deacon Turner gaveit to me for remembering who made me!"

"Why, child, what do you mean?"

"She means just what she says, mother, " said Mary. "Deacon Turner spoketo her in prayer meeting last night--"

"Why, Patience!"

"And he was sorry for it, mother, just as Siller thought he'd be; and sohe wanted to give her something to make up, I suppose; but _should_ youhave thought he'd have given her that dollar?"

Mrs. Lyman was grieved to learn that Patty had been so restless and soirreverent, and called her into the bedroom to talk with her about it. 

"My little girl is old enough to begin to think, " said she. 

"Yes, mother, " said Patty, laying the silver dollar against her cheek, "I do think. "

"But, Patience, you knew the people had met in that school-house to talkabout God; you should have listened to what they were saying. "

"But, mamma, the words were too big; I can't understand such big words. "

"Well, then, my daughter, you certainly could have sat still, and letother people listen. "

Patty hung her head. 

"Has a child any right to go where good people are worshipping God, andbehave so badly as to disturb them?"

"No, mamma. "

Patty was crying again, and almost thought the barn _would_ be the bestplace for her to live in. Even her "live dollar" could not console herwhen her mother spoke in such a tone as that. 

"I'll never make any more _disturbment_, mamma, " said she, in abroken-hearted tone. 

"I hope you'll remember it, " said Mrs. Lyman, taking the child's twohands in hers, and pressing them earnestly. 

Patty was afraid she was about to deprive her of the precious dollar;but Mrs. Lyman did not do it; she thought Patty would remember withoutsuch a hard punishment as that. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE SILK POCKET. 

When Mrs. Lyman heard what a fright the children had had at Dr. Hilton'sshe was much displeased, and forbade Siller Noonin ever to talk to themagain about witches. Siller confessed she had done wrong, and "hopedMrs. Lyman wouldn't lay it up against her. "

Patty said, --

"Poh, she couldn't scare ME! I flied on a broomstick my own self, and Itumbled off. '_Course_ Mrs. Knowles can't do it; big folks like her!"

At the same time Patty did not like to see Mrs. Knowles come to thehouse. It wasn't likely she had ever "flied on a broomstick;" but whenMrs. Lyman walked out with the good woman, as she sometimes did, Pattywas uneasy till she got home again. Nobody suspected the little girl ofsuch foolishness, and she never told of it till years after, when shewas a tall young lady, and did not mind being laughed at for herchildish ideas. 

But perhaps you would like to know what became of her live dollar. Shedid not know what to do with so much money, and talked about it first toone and then to another. 

"Moses, " said she, "which would you ravver do, have me have a hundredcents, and you have ninety-nine cents, or me have ninety-nine cents, andyou have a hundred?"

Moses appeared to think hard for a moment, and then said, --

"Well, I guess I'd rather _you'd_ have the hundred. "

"O, would you?" cried Patty, kissing him gratefully. 

"Yes, " said Moses; "for if I had the most, you'd be teasing me for theodd cent. "

The dollar burnt Patty's fingers. Some days she thought she would giveit to the heathen, and other days she wondered if it would be wrong tospend it for candy. Sometimes she meant to buy a pair of silvershoe-buckles for her darling Moses, and then again a vandyke for herdarling Mary. In short, she could not decide what to do with such a vastsum of money. 

One day there came to the house a beggar girl, a little image of dirtand rags. She told a pitiful story about a dead mother and a drunkenfather, and nobody could know that it was quite untrue, and her motherwas alive, and waiting for her two miles away. 

Patty was so much interested in the little girl's story, that she almostwanted to give her the silver dollar on the spot, but not quite. She raninto the bedroom to ask her mother what it was best to do. 

"Why, I thought I fastened that door, " cried John, flourishing apaint-brush in her face. "Scamper, or you'll get some paint on yourgown. "

Patty scampered, but not before she had stained her dress. 

"Where is mother?" asked she of Dorcas. 

"In the parlor; but don't go in there, child, for the doctor's wife ismaking a call, and Mrs. Chase, too. "

Patty did not wait for Dorcas to finish the sentence, but rushed intothe parlor, out of breath. I am afraid she was rather glad to let thedoctor's wife know she had some money, and thought of giving it away. Patty was not a bold child, but there were times when she did like toshow off. 

"O, mother, mother!" cried she, without stopping to look at the ladies. "Let me have my silver dollar this minute! 'Cause there's a poorlittle--"

"My child, " said Mrs. Lyman, in a tone which checked Patty, and made herblush to the roots of her yellow hair. 

"Pray, let her finish her story, " said the doctor's wife, drawing thelittle one to her side; "it's something worth hearing, I know. "

"It's a little girl, " replied Patty, casting down her eyes, "and hermother is dead and her father is drunk. "

Patty supposed he lay all the while with his hat on, for she had onceseen a man curled up in a heap by the roadside, and had heard John sayhe was drunk. 

"How very sad!" said Mrs. Potter. 

Mrs. Chase looked sorry. 

"Do you say the mother is dead?" said she. 

"Yes'm; the man killed her to death with a jug, and then she died, "replied Patty, solemnly. 

"Where is the child? Something must be done about it at once, " said Mrs. Potter, a very kind lady, but apt to speak without much thought. "O, Patty, dear, I am glad you have such a good heart. It is beautiful tosee little children remembering the words of our Saviour, 'It is moreblessed to give than to receive. '"

Patty's eyes shone with delight. It seemed to her that she was a littleLady Bountiful, going about the world taking care of the poor. Shecrept closer to Mrs. Potter's side. 

"I haven't but just one silver dollar, " said she, in a low voice; "butI'd ravver give it to the little girl than keep it myself, I would!"

"Bless your dear little soul, " said the doctor's wife, kissing Patty;but Mrs. Chase said nothing; and all at once it occurred to the childthat perhaps Mrs. Chase had heard of her being spoken to in meeting, andthat was why she did not praise her. Dreadful thought! It frightenedPatty so that she covered up her face till both the ladies had goneaway, for they did not stay much longer. 

After the door was closed upon them, Mrs. Lyman said--, "Here is your silver dollar, Patty, in my pocket. "

Patty fancied that her mother's voice was rather cold. She had expecteda few words of praise, or at least a kiss and a smile. 

"But think a minute, Patience. Are you sure you want to give it away?"

Patty put her fingers in her mouth, and eyed the dollar longingly. Howlarge, and round, and bright it looked!

"I thought I heard you speak yesterday of buying Dorcas a vandyke, --orwas it Mary?--and the day before of getting some shoe-buckles forMoses, " added Mrs. Lyman, in the same quiet tones. "And only thismorning your mind was running on a jockey for yourself. Whatever youplease, dear. Take time to think. "

"O, I'd ravver have a jockey. I forgot that--a white one. "

"And what will become of the poor little girl?"

"O, I guess Dorcas will give her some _remmernants_ to eat, and folksall around will see to her, you know. "

"My child, my child, you don't think as you did when those ladies werehere. Do you remember your last Sunday's verse, and what I said about itthen?"

Mrs. Lyman's voice was very grave. 

Patty repeated the verse, --

"Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them;otherwise, ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven. "

She knew very well what it meant. 

"Doing alms before women is just the same as doing 'em before men, "thought Patty. 

She had been making pretty speeches just for the sake of being praised, and she didn't care so very much about the beggar girl after all. 

"I am going out to see that poor child for myself, " said Mrs. Lyman, putting down the black silk pocket she was making; and Patty followed, with her money clasped close to her bosom. 

But by that time the dirty-faced little creature had gone away. 

"She told wrong stories, " said Dorcas; "she said, in the first place, her mother was dead, and afterwards that her mother was sick. "

"Naughty thing! I'm glad I didn't give her my silver dollar!" exclaimedPatty; though she dared not look up, for fear of meeting her mamma'seyes. 

"Where _have_ you been, child, to get so stained with paint?" saidRachel, who always saw things before any one else did. "Come here, andlet me sponge your gown with spirits of turpentine. "

"Strange I shouldn't have noticed that, " said Mrs. Lyman. "I hope Mrs. Potter didn't spoil her crape shawl when she put her arm round you, Patience. "

Patty dropped her eyes with shame, to think how pleased Mrs. Potter hadbeen with her just for nothing at all. 

"Spirits _turpletine_?" said she, making believe she had never heard theword before. "_Spirits_ turpletine? That isn't _angels_, Rachel? Thenwhat makes you call 'em spirits?"

Rachel knew the child was talking for the sake of changing the subject, and she would not answer such a foolish question. 

"Stand still, you little try-patience, " said she, "or I shall never getoff the paint. "

Mrs. Lyman went back to finish her pocket. Ladies in those days worethem under their dresses, tied about their waists. Mrs. Lyman's was avery pretty one, of quilted black silk, and when it was done, Patty puther dollar in it, and jingled it beside a gold piece of her mother's. 

"Which is worth the most, mamma?" said she, "your dollar or my dollar?"

"Mine is worth just twenty times as much as yours. "

"Well, I'm glad that naughty girl hasn't got either of 'em, " thoughtPatty. "I'm sorry I made believe _good_; but I want my dollar, and here'tis, all safe. "

Safe! Before night Patty's dollar was gone, and her mother's gold piecewith it, --pocket, and all. It went that very afternoon; but nobody knewit till Mrs. Lyman was getting ready to go to the store two daysafterwards, and wanted her pocket to put on. 

When she came into the kitchen and said it was not in her bureau drawer, and when Rachel, who always did the hunting, had looked everywhere andcould not find it, then there was crying in that house, you may be sure. Patty said at once the beggar girl had taken the pocket. 

"But how could she?" said Dorcas. "She was out of sight and hearingbefore mother began to quilt it. "

"Well, then she came back in the night, " sobbed Patty. 

"I dare say Snippet has put it out of place, " said big brother James. 

"Yes, Patty is a great hand to lose things, " said Rachel. 

"No, no, no; that _niggeramus_ girl came and took it; came in thenight, " persisted Patty. 

"Patience!" said her mother, reprovingly; and then Patty had to stop. 

She mourned only for the silver dollar. She would have mourned for thegold piece too, if she had known that her mother intended to buy fallclothes with it for the little girls. It was as well Patty did not knowthis, for she had as much already as she could bear. 

Priscilla Noonin came over that afternoon with her knitting. "It wasmidsummer, and the hay was down, " and there were two men helping get itinto the barn. One of the men was tall and well formed, but the other, Israel Crossman, was so short as to be almost a dwarf. He had yellow andwhite hair, was a little lame, and his hands were covered with warts. After supper he sat a few minutes on the top of the fence whittling astick. As Siller Noonin stood knitting at the window she saw him, andshook her head. 

"Somehow or 'nother, " said she, "I don't like the looks of that man, andnever did. It's my private opinion, Mrs. Lyman, that either he stoleyour pocket or I did. "

"Be careful, " whispered Mrs. Lyman, "he will hear you. "

He might have heard, or might not; but he soon got off the fence andlimped away. 

"Israel bears a good character, " said Mrs. Lyman; "I will not suspecthim, unless I see better reason than I have ever seen yet. "

The loss of the silk pocket continued to be a great mystery. Everybodyhunted for it from garret to cellar; but summer passed, and it did notcome. 

Patty's grief wore away by degrees; still she never heard the word"pocket" or the word "dollar" without a pang. And every time she sawMrs. Chase or Mrs. Potter, she could not help wondering if her moneydidn't fly away just to punish her for trying to "show off" before them?At any rate, she would never, never "show off" again. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

PATTY'S SUNDAY. 

But we must give up hunting for a little while: Sunday has come. Let usforget that "live dollar" (_perhaps_ it's a dead dollar now), and go tochurch with Patty. 

When she was "dressed for meeting, " she went into the nicely sandedparlor and stood alone before the looking-glass a minute or two toadmire herself. Look at her! She had on a blue cambric frock, and a bluecambric jockey, or hat, turned up a little at the sides, and tied underthe chin with a blue ribbon; and on her little brown hands were a pairof white cotton gloves. Don't laugh, little city folks! This was allvery fine, sixty years ago, in a backwoods town. But look at her feet, and you _must_ laugh! Her shoes were of the finest red broadcloth, andMrs. Lyman had made them herself out of pieces of her own cloak and somesoft leather left in the house by Mr. Piper, the shoemaker. He went fromfamily to family, making shoes; but he could not make all that wereneeded in town, so this was not the first time Mrs. Lyman had tried herhand at the business. She used a pretty last and real shoemaker'sthread, and Mr. Piper said she was "a dabster at it; no wonder herhusband was well off when he had such a smart wife. "

For, strange as it may seem to you, Squire Lyman _was_ "well off, "--thatis, he had one of the best farms in the county, and more money than anyone else in Perseverance, except Mr. Chase and Dr. Potter; those twomen were much wealthier than he was. 

All the Lymans walked to church except the squire and his wife and thetwo little boys; they went in the chaise. Dr. Potter rode horseback, with a great show of silk stockings. His wife was propped up behind himon a pillion. She was a graceful rider, but of course she had to put onearm around the doctor to keep from falling off. This would be an oddsight now to you or me, but Patty was so used to seeing ladies riding onpillions that she thought nothing about it. She looked down at her redshoes twinkling in and out of the green grass, and might have beenperfectly happy, only the soles wouldn't squeak. 

"Patty! Patty!" called sister Mary, "come back here and walk with me. "

Patty did not know till then that she was _hopping_. She went and tookMary's hand, and walked soberly along, thinking. 

"I hope Deacon Turner didn't see me. I guess he's 'way ahead of us. Iwant to run and swing my arms; but I won't, because it is God's holyday. "

On the way they overtook Sally Potter, whose jockey was dented andfaded; and Patty said, "Good morning, Sally, " with quite an air. Butwhen Linda Chase came along, and her new red bosom-pin shone out in thesun, Patty's heart died within her. 

"S'pose Linda don't know some folks don't like to see little girls wearbosom-pins, " thought she. 

When they reached the meeting-house Mrs. Potter was just alighting upona horse-block. "Good morning, Linda, " said she; "and how do _you_ do, Patty, my dear?"

"H'm! She didn't say '_Linda_, my dear. ' Guess she don't likebosom-pins, " thought Patty; and her silly heart danced up again. 

"O, but I know why Mrs. Chase says 'Patty, my dear;' it's becauseI--well, she s'poses I gave that dollar to the girl that her father wasdrunk. "

And I am glad to say Patty blushed. 

The meeting-house was an unpainted building with two doors. As theywalked in at the left door, their feet made a loud sound on the floor, which was without a carpet. There were galleries on each side of thehouse, and indeed the pulpit was in a gallery, up, up, ever so high, with a sounding-board over the preacher's head. Right in the middle ofthe church was a box stove, but you could see that it was not half largeenough to heat the house. Of course there was no fire in it now, for itwas midsummer; but in the winter ladies had to carry foot-stoves fullof live coals to keep their feet warm in their pews. 

Squire Lyman's pew was very near the pulpit, and was always pretty wellfilled. Like the rest of the great square boxes, --for that was what theylooked like, --the seat was so high that Patty's scarlet shoes dangled inthe air ever so far from the floor. 

At precisely ten o'clock, Elder Lovejoy walked feebly up the aisle, andclimbed the pulpit stairs. Patty watched him, as if he had been one ofJacob's angels ascending the ladder. He was a tall, thin man, with afair complexion and long features. He wore a large turned-down collarand a white neckerchief, stuffed round the throat with what was called apudding, and the ends of the neckerchief were so very long that theyhung half way down his vest. Everybody loved Elder Lovejoy, for he wasvery good; but Patty thought him more than human. He seemed to her veryfar off, and sacred, like King Solomon or King David; and if he had worna crown, she would have considered it very appropriate. 

After a long prayer, during which all the people stood up, Elder Lovejoyread a long, long psalm, and the people rose again to hear it sung. Theyturned their backs to the pulpit, and faced the singers. 

But there was a great surprise to-day. A strange sound mingled with thevoices singing; it was the sound of a bass-viol. The people looked atone another in surprise, and some with frowns on their faces. Never hadan instrument of music of any sort been brought into that little churchbefore; and now it was Deacon Turner's brother, the blacksmith, who hadventured to come there with a fiddle!

Good Elder Lovejoy opened his eyes, and wiped his spectacles, andthought something must be done about it; they could not have "dancemusic" in that holy place. Deacon Turner and a great many others thoughtjust so too; and at noon they talked to the wicked blacksmith, and put astop to his fiddle. 

But nothing of this was done in church time. Elder Lovejoy preached avery long sermon, in a painfully sing-song tone; but Patty thought itwas exactly right; and when she heard a minister preach without thesing-song, she knew it must be wrong. She could not understand thesermon, but she stretched up her little neck towards the pulpit till itached, thinking, --

"Well, mamma says I must sit still, and let other people listen. Iwon't make any _disturbment_. "

Mrs. Lyman looked at her little daughter with an approving smile, andDeacon Turner, that dreadful tithing-man up in the gallery, thought hislecture had done that "flighty little creetur" a great deal of good--orelse it was his dollar, he did not know which. 

Patty sat still for a whole hour and more, counting the brass nails inthe pews, and the panes of glass in the windows, and keeping her eyesaway from Daddy Wiggins, who always made her want to laugh. At last thesermon was over, and the people had just time enough to go to theirhomes for a cold dinner before afternoon service, which began at oneo'clock. 

Sunday did seem like a long day to little folks; and do you wonder? Theyhad no Sabbath school or Sabbath school books; and the only part of theday which seemed to be made for them was the evening. At that time theyhad to say their catechisms, --those who had not said them the nightbefore. 

Did you ever see a Westminster Catechism, with its queer littlepictures? Then you can have no idea how it looks. After supper Mrs. Lyman called the children into her bedroom, shut the door, and had themrepeat their lessons, beginning with the question, "Who was the firstman?"

Patty supposed the Catechism was as holy as the Bible, and thought therhyme, --

 "Zaccheus he Did climb a tree, His Lord to see, "

was fine poetry, of course, and she never dreamed of laughing at thepicture of dried-up little Zaccheus standing on the top of acurrant-bush. 

Little Solly could answer almost all the questions, and sometimes babyBenny, who sat in his mamma's lap, would try to do it too. They allenjoyed these Sunday evenings in "mother's bedroom, " for Mrs. Lyman hada very pleasant way of talking with her children, and tellinginteresting Bible stories. 

The lesson this evening was on the commandment, "Thou shalt not covet. "When Patty understood what it meant, she said promptly, "Well, mamma, _I_ don't do it. "

For she was thinking, --

"What you s'pose I want of Linda Chase's bosom-pin? I wouldn't be seenwearing it!"

CHAPTER IX. 

MRS. CHASE'S BOTTLE. 

You see Patty knew as much about her own little heart as she did aboutChoctaw. 

One Wednesday morning, early in September, Mrs. Lyman stood before thekneading trough, with both arms in dough as far as the elbows. In thefarthest corner of the kitchen sat little Patty, pounding mustard-seedin a mortar. 

"Mamma, " said she, "Linda Chase has got a calico gown that'll standalone. "

"I've heard you tell of that before, " said Mrs. Lyman, taking out aquantity of dough with both hands, putting it on a cabbage-leaf, andpatting it into shape like a large ball of butter. A cabbage-leaf was asgood as "a skillet, " she thought, for a loaf of brown bread. 

"Did you ever see a gown stand all alone, mother? Linda says _hers_does. "

"Poh, it don't!" said Moses. "I know better. "

"Then hers told a lie!" exclaimed little Solly. "George Wash'ton nevertold a lie. "

"Linda tells the truth, " said Patty; "now, mamma, why don't _my_ gownsstand alone?"

"I want to be like George Wash'ton, " put in Solly again, pounding withthe rolling-pin, "and papa's got a hatchet; but we don't have no cherrytrees. I _can't_ be like George Wash'ton. "

"O, what a noise! Stop it!" said Moses, tickling little Solly under thearms. 

"Mamma, I wish I was as rich as Linda, " said Patty, raising her voiceabove the din. 

A look of pain came into Mrs. Lyman's eyes. It was not alone thechildren's racket that disturbed her. She sighed, and turned round toopen the door of the brick oven. The oven had been heated long ago, andDorcas had taken out the coals. It was just the time to put in the brownbread, and Mrs. Lyman set the cabbage-leaf loaves on the woodenbread-shovel, and pushed them in as far as they would go. 

After this was done she began to mix pie-crust; but not a word had sheto say about the gown that would stand alone. 

"Now, Patience, you may clean the mortar nicely, and pound me somecinnamon. "

Patty thought her mother could not know how her little arm ached. LindaChase didn't have to pound things; her mother thought she was toosmall. Linda's father had a gold watch with a chain to it, and Linda'sbig brother drove two horses, and looked very fine, not at all likeGeorge and Silas. Patty would not have thought of the difference, onlyshe had heard Betsy Gould say that Fred Chase would "turn up his nose atthe twins' striped shirts. "

"Mamma, " said she, beginning again in that teasing tone so trying tomothers, "_I_ have to eat bread and milk and bean porridge, and Lindadon't. She has nice things all the time. "

"Patience, " said Mrs. Lyman, wearily, "I cannot listen to idlecomplaints. Solomon, put down that porringer and go ask Betsey to washyour face. "

"But, mamma, " said Patty, "why can't I have things like Linda Chase?"

"My little girl must try to be happy in the state in which God hasplaced her, " said Mrs. Lyman, trimming a pie round the edges. 

"But I don't live in a state, " said Patty, dropping a tear into thecinnamon; "I live in the _District_ of Maine; and I want a gown that'llstand alo-ne!"

 "It's half past eight, And I can't afford to wait, "

sang Moses from the south entry. 

This was a piece of poetry which always aroused Patty. Up she sprang, and put on her cape-bonnet to start for school at Mrs. Merrill's, justround the corner. 

"Daughter, " said Mrs. Lyman, in a low voice, as she was going out, "youhave a happier home than poor Linda Chase. Don't cry for things thatlittle girl has, because, my dear, it is wicked. "

"A happier home than poor Linda Chase!"

Patty was amazed, and did not know what her mother meant; but when shegot to school there was Linda in a dimity loose-gown, and Linda said, --

"_My_ mother wants you to come and stay all night with me, if _your_mother's willing. "

So Patty went home at noon to ask. Mrs. Lyman never liked to have Pattygone over night; but the child pleaded so hard that she gave herconsent, only Patty must take her knitting-work, and musn't ask to wearher Sunday clothes. 

When she went home with Linda she found Mrs. Chase sitting by the parlorwindow very grandly dressed. She kissed Patty, without once looking atPatty's gingham loose-gown; but her eyes were quite red, as if she hadbeen crying. 

"I like to have you come to see Linda, " said she, "for Linda has nolittle sister, and she feels rather lonesome. "

Then the children went up stairs to see the wonderful calico gown whichcost "four and sixpence" a yard, and _almost_ stood alone (that was allLinda had ever said it could do). 

Mr. Chase and Fred were both away from home; and Patty was glad, for Mr. Chase was so very polite and stiff, and Fred always talked to her as ifshe was a baby. She did not like to go to see Linda when either of themwas there. 

Mrs. Chase took both the little girls in her lap, and seemed to enjoyhearing their childish prattle. Patty glanced at the gay rings on thelady's fingers, and at the pictures on the walls, and wondered why itwasn't a happy home, and what made Mrs. Chase's eyes so red. Then all atonce she remembered what Siller Noonin had said: "O, yes, Mrs. Chasehas everything heart can wish, except a bottle to put her tears in. "

Patty did not see why a handkerchief wasn't just as good; but she couldnot help looking at Linda's mother with some curiosity. If she reallyhad a strong preference for crying into a bottle, why didn't her richhusband buy her a bottle, a glass one, beautifully shaped, with goldflowers on it, and let her cry into it just as much as she pleased? Hewas rich, and he ought to. 

When they went to bed in the beautiful chamber that had such prettyfurniture, Mrs. Chase kissed them good night, but not in a happy way, like Patty's mother. 

"What makes your ma look so?" said Patty; "has she got the side-ache?"

"No, I guess not, " replied little Linda; "but she says she feels badround the heart. "

"My ma don't, " returned Patty, thoughtfully. "I never heard her say so. "

That was the last Patty knew, till ever so long afterwards, right in themiddle of a dream, she heard a great noise. It was a sound of scuffling, and something being dragged up stairs. She saw the glimmer of lights, and heard somebody's voice--she thought it was Mr. Chase's--say, "Lookout for his head, George. "

"What is it?" whispered Patty. "O, _what_ is it?"

Linda covered her face with the sheet, and whispered, trembling allover, --

"I _guess_ Freddy's sick. "

"No, no, no, " cried Patty; "hear how loud he talks!"

"O, but he's very sick, " repeated Linda. 

They heard him in the next chamber, kicking against the wall, and sayingdreadful words, such as Patty had never heard before--words which madeher shiver all over as if she was cold. 

"Is it 'cause he is sick?" said she to Linda. 

Linda thought it was. 

Next morning, bright and early, Patty had to run home to help Moses turnout the cows; there were nine of them, and it took two, besides the dogTowler, to get them to pasture. She told her mother what she had heardin the night, and her mother looked very sober; but Rachel spoke upquickly, --

"I'll tell you, Patty, what makes Fred Chase have such sick turns; hedrinks too much brandy. "

"Yes, " said big brother John; "that fellow keeps a bottle in his roomthe whole time. "

"Is it his mamma's bottle?" asked Patty; for it flashed over her all atonce that perhaps that was the reason Mrs. Chase didn't have a bottle tocry into, because Fred kept it up in his room--full of brandy. 

Nobody knew what she meant by asking "if it was his mamma's bottle;" sono one answered; but Mrs. Lyman said, --

"You see, Patty, it can't be very pleasant at Linda's house, even if shedoes have calico dresses that stand alone. "

"It don't _quite_ stand alone, mamma. "

"And I hope you won't cry again, my daughter, for pretty things likehers. "

"No, I won't mamma. --Is that why Linda's mother 'feels bad round herheart, ' 'cause Freddy drinks out of the bottle?"

"Yes, dear, it makes Mrs. Chase very unhappy. "

"Then I'm sorry, and I won't ever cry to have things like Linda anymore. "

"That is right, my child; that's right!--Now, darling, run and helpMoses turn out the cows. "

CHAPTER X. 

MASTER PURPLE. 

I think it was the next winter after this that Patty had that dreadfultime in school. If she had known what was coming, she would not havebeen in such a hurry for her shoes. Mr. Piper came in the fall, after hehad got his farm work done, to "shoe-make" for the Lymans, beginningwith the oldest and going down to the youngest; and he was so longgetting to Patty that she couldn't wait, and started for school thefirst day in a pair of Moses's boots. 

O, dear; but such a school as it was. Timothy Purple was the worstteacher that ever came to Perseverance. He was very cruel, but he wascowardly too; for he punished the helpless little children and let thelarge ones go free. I have no patience with him when I think of it!

The first day of school he marched about the room, pretending to lookfor a nail in the wall to hang the naughtiest scholar on, whether it wasa boy or a girl. Patty was so frightened that her milk-teeth chattered. You little folks who go to pleasant, orderly schools, and receive noheavier punishment than black marks in a book, can't have much idea howshe suffered. 

She expected every day after this to see a rope come out of Mr. Purple'spocket, and was sure if he hung anybody it would be Patty Lyman. Mr. Purple soon found she was afraid of him, and it gratified him, becausehe was just the sort of man to like to see little ones tremble beforehim. 

"I tell you what, " said Moses, indignantly, "he's all the time pickingupon Patty. "

And so he was. He often shook her shoulders, twitched her flying hair, or boxed her pretty little ears. Not that he disliked Patty, by anymeans. I suppose a cat does not dislike a mouse, but only torments itfor the sake of seeing it quiver. 

Moses was picked upon too; but he did not make much complaint, for the"other fellows" of his age were served in the same way. 

As for poor little browbeaten Patty, she went home crying almost everynight, and her tender mother was sometimes on the point of saying toher, --

"Dear child, you shall not go another day. "

But she did not say it, for good Mrs. Lyman could not bear to make adisturbance. She knew if she should take Patty out of school, otherparents would take their children out too; for nobody was at allsatisfied with Mr. Purple, and a great many people said they wished thecommittee had force enough to turn him away. 

But there was a storm in the air which nobody dreamed of. 

The sun rose one morning just as usual, and Patty started for school athalf past eight with the rest of the children. You would have pitied herif you had been there. The tears were dripping from her seven years oldeyes like a hail shower. It was very cold, but she didn't mind thatmuch, for she had a yellow blanket round her head and shoulders, andover those boots of Moses's were drawn a pair of big gray stockings, which turned up and flopped at the toes. And it wasn't that ridiculousgoosequill in her hair which made her cry either, though I am sure itmust have hurt. No; it was the thought of the master, that dreadful manwith the ferule and the birch sticks. 

Her mother stood at the door with a saucer pie in her hand. She knewthere was nothing Patty liked better. 

"Here, Patience, " said she, in a tone of motherly pity, "here's a piefor you. Don't you think now you can go without crying?"

Patience brightened at that, and put the bunch of comfort into Moses'sdinner pail, along with some doughnuts as big as her arm, and some brownbread and sausages. 

It was a long way to the school-house, and by the time the children gotthere their feet were numb. There was a great roaring fire in theenormous fireplace; but it did Patty no good, for this was one of themaster's "whipping days, " and he strode the brick hearth like a savagewarrior. Where was the _little_ boy or girl brave enough to say, "Master, may I go to the fire?"

Poor Patty took out her Ladies' Accidence, and turned over the leaves. It was a little book, and the title sounds as if it was full of stories;but you must not think Patty would have carried a story book to school!

No; this was a Grammar. In our times little girls scarcely seven yearsold are not made to study such hard things, for their teachers are wiseenough to know it is of no use. Patty was as good a scholar as any inschool for her age. Her letters had been boxed into her ears very youngby Miss Judkins, and now she could read in Webster's Third Part as fastas a squirrel can run up a tree; but as for grammar, you could put allshe knew into a doll's thimble. She could not tell a noun from a verb, nor could Linda Chase or Sally Potter, if you stood right over them, allthree, with three birch switches. They all knew long strings of words, though, like this:--

"A noun is the name of anything that exists, or that we have any notionof. "

She liked to rattle that off--Patty did--or her little nimble tongue, her head keeping time to the words. 

I wish you had heard her, and seen her too, or that I could give you anyidea of Mr. Purple's school. 

Stop a minute. Shut your eyes, and think you are inPerseverance. --There, do you see that man in a blue swallow-tail coat?This is the master. His head runs up to a peak, like an old-fashionedsugar loaf, and blazes like a maple tree in the fall of the year. Hestands by his desk making a quill pen, and looking about him with sharpglances, that seem to cut right and left. Patty almost thinks his headis made of eyes, like the head of a fly; and she is sure he has a pairin the pockets of his swallow-tail coat. 

But it is a great mistake. He does not see a twentieth part of themischief that is going on; and what he does see he dares not take muchnotice of, for he is mortally afraid of the large boys. 

There is a great noise in the room of shuffling feet and buzzing lips, but he pretends not to hear it. 

Up very near the back seat sits Mary Lyman, or Polly, as almosteverybody calls her, with a blue woolen cape over her shoulders, calleda vandyke, and her hair pulled and tied, and doubled and twisted, andthen a goosequill shot through it like a skewer. 

Behind her, in the very back seat of all, sits Dorcas, the prettiestgirl in town, with a pale, sweet face, and a wide double frill in theneck of her dress. 

Patty's future husband, William Parlin, is just across the aisle. He isfourteen years old, and you may be sure has never thought yet ofmarrying Patty. 

The twins, Silas and George, sit together, pretending to do sums on aslate; but, I am sorry to say, they are really making pictures of themaster. George says "his forehead sneaks away from his face, " and on theslate he is made to look like an idiot. But the color of his hair cannotbe painted with a white slate pencil. 

"I expect every day I shall scream out 'Fire!'" whispered Silas! "Mr. Purple's a-fire!"

In the floor stands brother Moses, with a split shingle astride hisnose, after the fashion of a modern clothes-pin. So much for eatingbeechnuts in school, and peeling them for the little girls; but he andOzem Wiggins nod at each other wisely behind Mr. Purple's back, as muchas to say, they know what the reason is _they_ have to be punished; itis because they are only nine years old; if they were in their teens themaster wouldn't dare! Ozem has not peeled beechnuts, but he has "callednames, " and has to hold out a hard-wood poker at arm's length. If heshould curve his elbow in the least, it would get a rap from themaster's ferule. 

"Class in Columbian Orator, " says Mr. Purple, "take your places out inthe floor. "

A dozen of the large boys and girls march forth, their shoes allsqueaking as if some of the goosequills had got into the soles. 

"Observe!"

You would not understand that, but they know it means, "Make yourmanners;" and the girls obey by quick little courtesies, and the boys bystiff little bows. 

Most of them say "natur" and "creetur, " though duly corrected, andCharley Noonin, Siller's nephew, says "wooled" for "would. "

Next comes a class in the Art of Reading. The twins are in that. 

Then Webster's Third Part, and unhappy little Patty steps out, almostcrying with chilblains, and has to be shaken because she doesn't standstill. 

After that some poor little souls try to spell out the story of"Thrifty and Unthrifty" in Webster's shingle-covered spelling-book. 

"Class in Morse's Geography. --Little lady in that front seat, becar-ful! Come out here, Patty Lyman, and stand up by the fireplace. Nocrying. "

It is almost a daily habit with Master Purple to call Patty into thefloor while the geography class recites, and afterwards to give her asmall whipping, for no other reason in the world than that she cannotstand still. William Parlin, who is a manly, large-hearted boy, pitiesthe poor little thing, and sometimes darkly hints that he is not goingto look on much longer and see her abused. 

CHAPTER XI. 

LITTLE GRANDFATHER. 

But let us hear the geography class. 

The pupils stay in their seats to recite, while the master walks thefloor and switches his boots. There is such a fearful uproar to-day thathe has to raise his voice as if he were speaking a ship in a storm. 

"What two rivers unite to form the Ohio?"

"A pint of clover seed and a bushel of _Timothy_, " replies WilliamParlin, in a low voice. 

"Right, " returns Mr. Purple, who has not heard a word, but nevercontradicts William because his father is on the committee. --"Next:Soil of Kentucky?"

"Flat-boats and flat-irons, " replies one of the twins, just loud enoughto set the boys laughing three seats before and behind him. 

"Very well, _ver_-y well. --Less laughing. --What is the capital? Speak updistinctly. "

"Capital punishment, " responds the other twin, cracking an acorn. 

"Correct. --Next may answer, a _little_ louder: Where is Frankfort?"

And that was the way the lesson went. There had been a great deal morenoise than usual, and Mr. Purple was almost distracted, for he saw thelarge boys were "in league, " and he dared not call them to account. 

Meanwhile active little Patty, who thought she was standing perfectlystill, studying that dreadful Ladies' Accidence, had really beenspinning about on one foot; and just then she darted forward to tear abit of shining bark from a white birch stick in the "ears" of thefireplace. 

"Master, " cried out a mean-spirited boy on the front bench, "Patty'spickin' gum off that ar log; I seed her. "

Master Purple strode quickly across the room. He had been longing for awhole hour to give _somebody_ a terrible whipping; and here was a goodopportunity. 

Of course it was the unmanly little tell-tale he was going to punish?

No, indeed; it was Patty. He seized upon the bewildered little creaturewith the greatest fury. 

"Patty Lyman, what do you mean, young woman? Haven't I laid down a rule, and how dare you disobey? It was only yesterday I feruled Ozen Wigginsfor chewing gum. "

"I didn't, " wailed Patty. 

"What? Do you contradict me? We'll see about that! Hold out your hand, you naughty, wicked child!"

The tone was so fierce, and the clutch on her shoulder hurt her so much, that poor Patty screamed fearfully. 

"Hold out your hand!" repeated the master. 

Patty gave him her slender baby-palm, poor little creature! while Dorcasand Mary, up in the back seats, both drew in their breaths with ashudder. 

Down came the hard-wood ferule, whizzing through the air like a thing oflife. No time then to tell Mr. Purple she _couldn't_ have picked gum offa hard-wood stick if she had tried; he wouldn't have believed her, andwouldn't have listened, no matter what she said. 

One! two! three! Patty had never been struck like this before. The twinslooked at each other, and almost rose from their seats. Indignationflashed from thirty pairs of eyes, but the master was too excited to seeit. 

Four! five! six! Patty's little figure bent like a broken reed, whenthere was a shuffling of boots in the aisle, and a voice shouted, "Stop that, sir!"

It was William Parlin's voice. He had sent it on ahead of him, and wasfollowing after it as fast as he could. 

"Let that child alone, Master Purple. "

[Illustration: LITTLE GRANDFATHER SPEAKS. --Page 138. ]

Master Purple was so utterly surprised and confounded that he stoodstock still, with his ferule high in the air. 

In another minute William was at his side. 

"Do you mean to let go that little girl's hand, sir?"

Master Purple stood and glared. 

"She's taken her last ruling, sir. I won't look on and see such smallchildren abused, sir. If the committee can't make a fuss about it, Iwill. "

You might have heard a pin drop. The whole school held its breath insurprise. Master Purple, not knowing what he did, dropped Patty's hand, and the sobbing child tried to go to her seat; but, blinded with tears, and pain and fright, she mistook the way, and staggered along to thefireplace. 

"Poor little thing, don't cry!" said William, lowering his voice to thegentlest tone; and taking her in his arms he carried her up to the backseat, and set her in Dorcas's lap. 

It was an action which Patty never forgot. From that moment she loveddear William Parlin with all her little heart. 

"O, William, do be careful, " said Dorcas; for by that time Master Purplehad come to his senses, and was rushing towards William, brandishingthat heavy ruler. 

But William was too quick for him. Before Master Purple could reach theback seat, the boy ran across the benches between the heads of thefrightened children, and seizing the monstrous tongs, tossed them like afeather, exclaiming, "Stand off, sir!"

What could Mr. Purple do? He was angry enough to tear William inpieces; but it was not so easy to get at a boy who was armed with apair of tongs. 

"How dare you?" he cried, choking with rage; "how dare you, young man?Are the boys in this school willing to look on and see their teacherinsulted?"

The boys did seem to be willing. Mr. Purple glanced about the room, hoping some one would come to his aid; but no one came. They were allagainst him, and full of admiration for William, though none of themwould have dared to take William's place. 

The little boys liked the excitement, but the little girls thought thiswas the end of the world, and began to cry. 

"Is this the treatment I am to receive from my school?" exclaimed MasterPurple, in despair. 

The like had never been heard of in the town of Perseverance that aschool should rise against its teacher. 

"I am going straight to your father to inform him of your conduct, " hestammered, his face white with wrath. 

And seizing his hat, he rushed out of the house, without stopping forhis cloak. 

I will not try to describe the uproar which followed. I will only saythat William Parlin was afterwards reproved by his father for his rashconduct, but not so severely as some people thought he should have been. Mr. Purple's red head was never seen in that school-house again. Anotherteacher came to take his place, who was a Christian gentleman, andtreated the little children like human beings. 

No one was more glad of the change than Patty Lyman. The new master cameto town before her tender palm was quite healed from the cruel blows;and she was the first to see him. But the meeting happened in such aqueer way, that I shall have to tell you about it. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE LITTLE DIPPER. 

"Well, mother, " said Squire Lyman, one afternoon, "the new teacher hasgot along, and by the looks of him I don't believe he is the man toabuse our little girl. Patty, dear, open the cellar door for papa. "

Mr. Lyman's arms were full of hemlock, which he had brought home fromthe woods. Betsy liked it for brooms, and he and his hired men alwaysgot quantities of it when they were hauling the winter's wood from thewood lot. 

"Yes, I know the Starbird family very well, " replied Mrs. Lyman; "thatis, I used to know this young man's mother, and I presume he is quitedifferent from Mr. Purple. "

Mrs. Lyman was sitting before the kitchen fire with the great familyBible in her lap; but, instead of reading it, she was winding round itsome white soft wicking. 

"Why, mamma, mamma, what are you doing?" exclaimed Patty. "How can paparead to-night with the Bible all tied up?"

"I shan't hurt the good book, my dear. " And as Mrs. Lyman spoke she cutthe wicking in two with the shears, and as it fell apart it let out theprecious volume just as good as ever. Then she took from the table someslender sticks, and put on each stick twelve pieces of wicking, givingeach piece a little twist with her fingers. 

"O, now I know, " said Moses, who was watching too; "you're a goin' tomake candles--going to dip those strings in a kettle of something hot. Yes, I know. "

"Yes, and there's the kettle, " said Patty. 

Mrs. Lyman was very late this year about her candles. She dipped themonce a year, and always in the afternoon and evening, because there wasso much, so very much going on in that kitchen in the morning. 

"Now, please, mamma, " said Patty, "let me help. "

Mrs. Lyman tipped two chairs face downward towards the floor, --"Likefolks trying to creep, " said Patty, --and laid two long sticks from onechair to the other, making a very good fence. Next she set the candlerods across the fence, more than a hundred of them in straight rows. 

"James, " called she, going to the door; and while James was coming shelaid a large plank on the floor right under the candle rods. 

"That's to catch the drippings, " said the learned Moses; and he wasright. 

Squire Lyman and James came in and lifted the heavy brass kettle fromthe crane, and placed it on a board just in front of the brick hearth, not far from the creeping chairs; and then Mrs. Lyman sat down to dipcandles. 

In the first place, when she put the pieces of wicking into the kettleof hot tallow and took them out again, they looked like greasy strings, and nothing else. One after another she dipped them in and drew themout, dipped them in and drew them out, and set them carefully back intheir places across the fence. 

Patty and Moses looked on with great Interest. 

"How slow they are!" said Moses. "I've kept count, and you've dippedmore'n a hundred sticks, and you haven't made one candle yet. "

"Rome wasn't built in a day, " said Mrs. Lyman, going back to the verybeginning, and dipping the first row over again. 

"I don't know what Rome is, " said Patty. 

"Well, I wouldn't fuss with those strings, " observed Moses; "why, thismakes twice, and they're no bigger round yet than slate pencils. "

"I'd let 'em alone, " said Patty, "and not try. "

"Moses, you might as well run off and see if father wants you, " saidMrs. Lyman; "and, Patience, I know Dorcas would like some clovespounded. "

In about an hour Patty was back again. The candles had grown, but only avery little. They were no larger yet than _lead_ pencils. And there satMrs. Lyman with a steady, sober look on her face, as if she had made upher mind to wait and let them take their time to grow. 

"What slow candles!" cried Patty. 

"Patience, dear, " said Mrs. Lyman, smiling. 

"There, mamma, you said Patience, but you didn't mean me; you meant the_good_ kind of patience. "

"Yes, I meant the patience that works and waits. Now go and wash somepotatoes for to-morrow's breakfast, and then you may come again andlook. "

"When Patty came the second time, she exclaimed, with delight, "O, mamma, they're as big round as candy! Wish _'twas_ candy; wouldn't Ieat?"

Mrs. Lyman began again at the first row. 

"Why, mamma Lyman, true's you live I can begin to see 'em grow!"

"You are right, " said her mother. "People don't work and wait, all fornothing, daughter. "

"Yankee Doodle came to town, " sang Patty, dancing the time to the tune, as if she did not hear her mother's words. But she did hear them, andwas putting them away in her memory, along with a thousand other thingswhich had been said to her, and which she had not seemed to hear at thetime. 

I wish Mrs. Lyman could have known this, for she sometimes thought itwas of no use to talk to Patty. I wish she could have known that yearsafterwards the dancing child would be comforted in many a trouble bythese cheery words, "People don't work and wait for nothing, daughter. "For you see it all came back to Patty when she was a woman. She saw apicture of her good mother dipping candles, with a steady, sober look onher face; and that picture always did her good. 

I wonder if the little folks, even in these days, don't hear and heedmore than they appear to? If so, their mammas ought to believe it, andtake courage. 

"Mother, why do you pour hot water into that kettle? Won't water _putout_ candles?"

"Perhaps not; perhaps it will make the tallow rise to the top, " saidMrs. Lyman, laughing. 

"O, so it does. Isn't it _such_ fun to dip candles? They grow as fast asyou can wink. Mayn't I dip, please, mamma?"

"Who was it, " replied Mrs. Lyman, with a quiet smile, "that said, 'I'dlet 'em alone, and not try?'"

"O, but, mamma, that was when they didn't grow, you know. "

"Well, dear, I'll let you dip in a rod by and by; I can't stop now. "

Patty waited, but the "by and by" did not come. Mrs. Lyman seemed tohave forgotten her promise; and about eight o'clock had to leave thecandles a few minutes to give Dorcas some advice about the fitting of adress. Dorcas was to take her mother's place; but just as she startedfor the kitchen, there was an outcry from Mary, who had cut her finger, and wanted it bound up. 

"It's my by-and-by _now_, " thought little Patty. 

There was not a soul in the kitchen to attend to those candles. Dearyme, and the tallow growing so cold! Wasn't it Patty's duty to help?

Of course it was; and seating her little self with much dignity in thechair from which her mother had just risen, and propping her feet on theround, she took up the business where it was left off. It seemed theeasiest thing in the world to flash those round white candles into thekettle and out again; but they were a great deal heavier than she hadsupposed. After she had dipped two or three rods her arm felt verytired. How could mamma do it so fast, without stopping one bit?

A bright thought seized Patty, as bright as all those dozen-dozencandles burning in a row. 

"Guess I'll dip 'em slow; then there'll be more tallow stick on. "

Strange mamma hadn't thought of that herself; but mammas can't think ofeverything, they have so much to do. Patty swayed a rod full of candlesfrom side to side in the kettle, not perceiving that they were meltingto their heart's cores. When she took them out they dripped great tears, and as she held them up, wondering why they hadn't grown any, thekitchen door opened, and some one walked in. 

Who it was Patty could not see, for her face was turned away; but whatif it should be brother James, and he should call out, "Well, Snippet, up to mischief, hey?"

The very thought of such a speech frightened her so that she set her rowof candles across the chairs in great haste, hitting them againstanother row, where they stuck fast. 

"Good evening, miss, " said a strange voice. 

Patty turned her head, and there, instead of James, stood a handsomeyoung gentleman she had never seen before. She knew at once it must bethe new teacher. 

The first thing she did was to seize a row of candles, hit or miss, anddashed them into the kettle. 

"Beg pardon. I'm afraid I've come to the wrong door, " said the stranger, bowing very low, and trying his best not to smile. 

"O, no, sir; yes, sir; thank you, " replied bewildered Patty, almostplunging head first into the kettle. But instead of that she suddenlystraightened up, and popped in another row of candles. 

Mr. Starbird was so amused by the little creature's quick andkitten-like motions that he stood still and watched her. He thought hehad never seen so funny a sight before. 

"He smiles just as _cheerfully_, " mused Miss Patty, with an airy toss ofthe head. "Guess he thinks I'm smart! Guess he thinks he'll put me inthe C'lumby Norter [Columbian Orator] first thing _he_ does! Big girllike this, sitting up so straight, working like a woman!"

With that she rocked forward, and nearly lost her balance; but no harmwas done; she only pushed the kettle half way off the board. 

The gentleman thought it was about time to interfere, and let some ofthe family know what the child was doing. 

"Will you please point the way to the parlor, little miss?" said he, with a bewitching smile. 

Patty slid from her seat, and, in her confusion, was aiming straight forthe cellar door, when, alas! alas! one of her feet got caught in therounds of the chair, and she tumbled out headlong. In trying to saveherself, she put forth both hands, and struck against the kettle, whichwas already tipsy, and of course turned over. 

It was a critical moment. Mr. Starbird saw the kettle coming, and hadthe presence of mind to spring the other way. A flood of hot water andtallow was pouring over the floor, and little Patty screaming lustily. 

Mr. Starbird thought she was scalding to death, and instead of takingcare of himself, turned about to save her. But before he could reachher, she had darted through the bar-room door and disappeared--withoutso much as a blotch of tallow on her shoes. 

Gallant Mr. Starbird did not get off so well. His foot slipped on theoily floor, and down he fell. Before he could get up the whole householdhad come to the rescue, Rachel and John bringing tin dippers, and Mrs. Lyman a mop; but Dorcas a roll of linen, for she knew the stranger mustbe scalded. 

He tried to make the best of it, poor man; and while Dorcas was doing upboth his blistered hands, he smiled on her almost as "cheerfully" as hehad smiled on the little candle-dipper. He found it very pleasant tolook at Dorcas. Everybody liked to look at her. She had a rare, sweetface, as delicate as a white snowdrop just touched with pink, and shedid know how to do up sore fingers beautifully; she had practised it onevery one of the children. 

Patty was so sorry and ashamed that she crept to bed in the dark, andcried herself to sleep. 

The next morning that unpainted kitchen floor was a sight to behold, andRachel said she did not think it would ever come clean again. 

"See what I found in the kettle, " said she. 

Two rows of little withered candles, all worn out, and crooked besides. 

"Did I do that too?" said Patty. 

"I should think you did. What mischief will you be up to next?" saidRachel, sharply. 

"But, but, mamma _said_ I might dip. "

"Why, yes, so I did, " said the much-enduring mother, suddenlyremembering her own words. "Well, well, Rachel, we won't be too hard onPatience. I'll warrant she'll never try this caper again. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

MR. STARBIRD'S DREAM. 

Mr. Starbird began the school with his hands in mittens; but for allthat he governed the big boys without the least effort. His blisterswere so troublesome that he had to go to Squire Lyman's every day tohave them done up, and in that way Patty grew very well acquainted withhim. Before spring the whole family felt as if they had always knownhim, and Mrs. Lyman called him Frank, because she and his mother hadbeen "girls together. " Dorcas did not call him Frank, but they wereremarkably good friends. 

After the winter school was done, Mr. Starbird still staid atPerseverance, studying law with Mr. Chase, and boarding at SquireLyman's. He was a very funny man, always saying and doing strangethings; and that brings me round at last to Patty's dollar. 

One evening Patty was so tired with picking up chips that she went andthrew herself into her mother's arms, saying, "Why don't the boys stickthe axe clear through the wood, mamma; then there wouldn't be chips tobother folks. "

For a wonder Mrs. Lyman was sitting down without any work in her hands, and could stop to stroke Patty's hair and kiss her "lips like snips ofscarlet, " which made the little girl happier than anything else in theworld. Mr. Starbird sat in a large armchair, holding a skein of yarn forDorcas, who sat in a small rocking-chair, winding it. 

"Mrs. Lyman, " said Mr. Starbird, "do you believe in dreams?"

"Indeed, I do not, " replied Mrs. Lyman. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I don't believe in them myself any more than you do, Mrs. Lyman. But I did have such a very singular dream last night!"

"Do tell us what it was, " said Dorcas. 

"Certainly, if you like, " said Mr. Starbird; "but I--but I don't knowabout it; is it best to speak of such things before Patty?"

"Yes, you must, Mr. Starbird, " cried Patty, springing up eagerly. "_I_won't tell anybody, long's I live. "

Mr. Starbird laughed. 

"Well, in the first place, Mrs. Lyman, let me ask you if you lost anymoney ever so long ago?"

"Yes, I lost a twenty-dollar gold piece last summer. "

"Yes; and me, too. I had a silver dollar, 'n' I lost it, " cried Patty. 

"How strange!" said Mr. Starbird. "So my dream does have some sense init. Excuse me, Mrs. Lyman; but will you tell me where you kept themoney?"

"In my black silk pocket; but the pocket went too. "

"And I suppose you have hunted everywhere for it. "

"Of course we have, " said Dorcas. "I guess you'd think so, Mr. Starbird;why, we've turned this house upside down. "

"To be sure. Well, I'd like to ask another question, Mrs. Lyman. Did youever think that woman that is about here so much--Siller Noonin, Ibelieve they call her--could have taken the money?"

"O, no, indeed, Francis; we consider Priscilla an honest woman. "

"That was not what I meant to say, Mrs. Lyman. What I was going to askwas this: Wasn't there a funny old man here at the time you lost themoney? and didn't Siller Noonin say that either he stole the money orshe did?"

Mrs. Lyman looked surprised. 

"Yes; there was a little old man at the house in haying-time, and Ibelieve Priscilla did say she thought--"

"Yes, mother, " broke in Dorcas; "and he was sitting out on the fencewhen she said it, and we were afraid he heard; but how did you knowthat, Mr. Starbird? It didn't come to you in your dream?"

"Ah, Miss Dorcas, you are beginning to be curious; but when I go on totell you more, you will open your eyes wider yet. I never saw thatlittle old man, Mrs. Lyman, and never heard you speak of him; but Idreamed I was husking corn in your barn, and a man about as tall as yourMary--"

Just then Mary, and Moses, and George, and Silas, and John, and Rachelcame into the room, followed by William Parlin; and Mr. Starbird had tobegin at the beginning and tell as far as this all over again. 

"A man as tall, perhaps, as Mary, with hair the color of pumpkin andmilk, limped up to me--"

"Why, mother, why, Rachel, his hair _was_ all yellow and white, " saidMoses. 

"Well, so I said, " pursued Mr. Starbird. "And there were red rings roundhis eyes, and he had a turn-up nose, and hands all covered with warts. "

"Mr. Starbird, you must have seen Israel Crossman, " said Mrs. Lyman, whohad stopped rocking in her surprise. 

"Israel Crossman! That was the very name he spoke as he limped into thebarn. I declare, Mrs. Lyman, this is growing more and more mysterious;but I never saw Israel Crossman; I give you my word. "

"How very strange!" said Dorcas; "but do make haste and finish, for I amgetting all of a tremble. "

"Me, too, " cried Patty, clinging close to her mother's neck. 

"Well, the old man sidled along to me, and said he, --

"'I'm Isr'el Crossman; and look here: me and Squire Lyman's two hiredmen and (I've forgotten the other name) got in hay into this ere barnlast summer. Squire Lyman's folks used me well; but there's one thingthat's laid heavy on my mind. Mrs. Lyman lost a gold piece while I washere--'"

"Yes, and me a silver dollar, " cried Patty. 

"'And it distressed me bad, ' said Israel, 'for Siller Noonin up and saidthat either she stole it, or I did. But it's come to me lately, ' saidIsrael, 'what must have 'come of that money! I never took it; bless you, I never stole a pin! But I see that little Patty to play out in the barnwith one of her rag babies. '"

"O, I never, " exclaimed Patty. 

"Don't interrupt, " whispered one of the twins, deeply interested. 

"You know I am only telling a silly dream, my dear, " said Mr. Starbird. "This little man said he saw Patty playing on the scaffold before thehay was got into the barn, and she had something round her doll's neckthat looked like a pocket. He didn't know any more than that; but he'sort of mistrusted' that she might have left the doll on the scaffold, and the men might have pitched hay right on top of it. "

"Sure enough, " exclaimed Dorcas, with a nervous laugh; "who knows butshe did?"

"Have you lost a doll, Patty?" asked William Parlin. 

"No; I never. "

"O, she doesn't know when she loses dolls, " said Rachel; "she alwayskeeps more than a dozen or so on hand. "

"Well, I was going to say, " continued Mr. Starbird, "you could easilyfind out whether there was any meaning to my dream. If there _is_ a dollup there on the scaffold, the hay is getting so low you could scraperound and find it. "

"That's so, " cried the twins. 

"Not that it's really worth while, either, " added Mr. Starbird; "for, asI said, it was only--"

"But there isn't the least harm in going out to see, " said Mary and thetwins, and William Parlin, all in a breath, as they started on a run forthe barn. Patty slipped down from her mother's arms and followed. 

"Me! Me! Let me go first, " she cried. And before any one else could doit, her swift little feet were mounting the ladder, and next minutetripping over the scaffold. 

"O, look! O, catch! Here it is! Here is my dolly all up in the corner, and here's a pocket round her neck!"

Dorcas, who was always rather nervous, sat on the barn floor and laughedand cried herself into such a state that Mr. Starbird had to give herhis arm to help her back to the house. 

There was a great time, you may be sure, when Patty shook the pocketbefore everybody's eyes, and James rang the twenty-dollar piece on thebrick hearth to make sure it was good gold. Dorcas was so excited thatpink spots came in both her cheeks, and even James did not know what tothink. Betsey Gould started right off to Dr. Potter's, where SillerNoonin happened to be, to tell Siller the story. Dorcas kept havinglittle spasms of laughing and crying, and the whole household had rathera frightened look; for it was the most marvellous dream they ever heardof. 

"Well, mother, what do you think now of dreams?" said Moses. "Guessyou'll have to give it up. "

Mrs. Lyman had been in her bedroom to put the gold piece into herdrawer, and she now came back and took up her stocking-basket, as ifnothing had happened. 

"I will tell you to-morrow what I think of dreams, Moses. --Hush, Patty, I am afraid we shall be sorry you found your dollar, if it makes you sonoisy. "

Mr. Starbird went up to the table where Mrs. Lyman sat, pretending to belooking for the shears, but really to get a peep at the lady's eyes. Atany rate, he did not go away till he had made her look at him, and thenthey both smiled, and Mrs. Lyman said, in a very low voice, --

"Francis, you have kept up the joke long enough. "

Frank nodded and went back to the settle. 

"James, " said he, "you are the wise one of the family; I wish you wouldtell me how you account for my dream. "

"Can't account for it, " said James, shaking his head; "don't pretendto. "

"Well, then, if you can't, " returned Mr. Starbird, looking veryinnocent, "perhaps you can tell me what day of the month it is?"

There was a general uproar then. 

"Have you been making fools of us, Frank Starbird?" cried James andRachel, seizing him, one by the hair, the other by the ears. 

"April Fools! April Fools!" exclaimed all the children together, --allexcept Dorcas. 

"It's the best fool I ever heard of, " said William Parlin; "but how didyou do it, sir?"

"Yes, explain yourself, " said James and Rachel. "Was mother in thesecret?"

"No; but Dorcas was. Let go my hair, James, and I'll speak. --Fact is, Ihappened to find that rag baby out there on the scaffold this afternoonwith that pocket on its neck, and so I dreamed a dream to suit myself. "

"Yes, " said Dorcas; "and I told him just how Israel Crossman looked, andall about Siller Noonin, and didn't he say it off like a book?"

"Wasn't it a dream, then?" asked little Patty. 

"No, dear; it was only nonsense. "

"Well, then, I didn't put my dolly out there, --did I?"

"Yes, of course you did, " said her mother; "only you have forgotten it. "

But Patty looked puzzled. She could not recollect that ever so long ago, the day the beggar girl came to the house, she had cured Polly DollyAdaline's sore throat with her mother's quilted pocket, and then hadcarried the sick dolly out to the barn, "so she could get well fasterwhere there wasn't any noise. "

No, Patty could not recollect this, and the whole thing was a mystery toher. 

"Children, " said Mrs. Lyman, looking up from her stockings, as soon asthere was a chance to speak, "I have one word to say on this subject:whenever you hear of signs and wonders, don't believe in them tillyou've sifted them to the bottom. And when you've done that, mark mywords, you'll find there's no more substance to them than there is toFrancis Starbird's April Fool Dream. "

"True, " said Rachel and James; and then, as half a dozen of the youngerones had gone out, they had a quiet talk, five or six of them, round thefire, and Patty went to sleep sitting on Mr. Starbird's knee. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

SPINNING. 

So Patty had her dollar back; and now what to do with it was thequestion. She thought of a great many things to buy, but always grewtired of them before she had fairly made up her mind. 

At last she went to her mother, and said, "Mamma, I'm only a littlegirl, and don't know much; won't you please tell me what to get?"

"Do you really wish me to decide for you, my dear? And will you besatisfied with my choice?"

"Yes, mamma, I truly will be satisfied. But--but--you don't want togive my dollar to the heathens--do you? It's all clear silver, and Is'pect _coppers_ just as good for those heathens, mamma. "

"What makes you think copper is just as good, my child?"

"Because that's what people put into the box; and when they put anysilver in, it's in little bits of pieces. I don't s'pect the heathensknow the difference. "

Mrs. Lyman smiled, though at the same time she was sorry to think howselfish people are, and how little they are willing to give away. 

"Let me ask you a question, dear. How would you like to have me carrythis dollar to Mrs. Chase and Mrs. Potter, and tell them my little girlsent it for them to give to some poor child?"

Patty looked up in surprise. 

"If you are going to give it to a poor child, mamma, can't you do it'thout telling folks?"

"Yes, I could. I didn't know, though, but you'd like to have Mrs. Potterand Mrs. Chase hear of it. "

A pink blush crept over Patty's face, and away up to the top of herforehead. 

"O, mamma, I don't! I don't!"

"Well, I believe you, my dear. You have seen a little of the folly oftrying to show off. And that reminds me--Yes, I have a very good idea;and when your papa goes to Augusta next week, I will send your dollar, and have him buy you something you can always keep. "

Patty liked the sound of that, and when her father came home fromAugusta with a little round trunk in his hands, she could hardly waitfor him to get into the house. He had brought her a little red Bible, with clasp covers. It was the first whole Bible she had ever owned. Shewas much pleased, and has kept the little book all these years, thoughits beauty is quite gone by this time. It is very precious to her, because these words are on one of the fly-leaves in her dear mother'sown writing: "Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seenof them; otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven. "

Time passed on, and on, and on. Patty's wrists grew so strong that shewas trusted to milk a small red cow, though she must still have beenquite a little girl, for she could not remember which was the cow'sright side, and had to mark her bag with a piece of chalk. Very soon shehad two cows to milk, just as Mary and Moses had; and Moses, who was anearly bird, used to wake her from a sound sleep by calling out, "Come, come, Patty! Dr. Chase's cows are out! Mary and I have milked! Up, up, Patty! Why don't you start?"

Patty thought it was very hard to be called so early in the morning. What did she care for Dr. Chase's cows? She was tired of hearing Mosestalk about them. Poor little creature! She always ran down stairs, rubbing her eyes, and her mother comforted her by saying, --

"Never mind it. After you have milked your cows and turned them out, youmay go to bed again, my dear, and have another nap. "

Patty always thought she would do it; but after the work was done, shewas no longer sleepy, and did not wish to go to bed. 

When she was ten years old, she learned to spin cotton. Her motherfirst carded it into rolls, and then Patty "roped" it, and spun it on awheel; but the spindle was so high up that she was obliged to have aboard to walk back and forth upon. She liked it as well as any otherwork, for she had a "knack" at spinning; but the older she grew, theless time she had for play. Her mother, though very kind to herchildren, did not seem to think it made much difference whether theyplayed or not. She never praised Patty; but once the little girloverheard her telling some ladies that her youngest daughter was a"natural worker, " and "the smartest child she had. " Of course thatpleased Patty very much, and afterwards she was brisker than ever. 

Her stint was three skeins of cotton a day; and sometimes, when she wasspinning it, Linda Chase would come up in the chamber and look on. Linda could not draw a thread without pulling the cotton all to pieces, and it amazed her to see Patty's spindle whirl so fast; for it went at awonderful rate, especially when any one was looking on. 

"I'm spinning warp for my new gown, " said Patty; "and Rachel is going toweave it. "

"What color will it be?"

"Blue and copperas, in little checks, " replied Patty. 

Linda knew what copperas color was, --it was a dull yellow. 

"'Twill only be for me to go to school in, " explained Patty. "I shallhave it for my _not-very-best_. By and by I'm going to learn how to spinlinen on that little flax-wheel, and Rachel will weave me sometable-cloths, and sheets, and pillow-cases, just as she does forDorcas. Guess why she weaves them for Dorcas. "

"I'm sure I can't guess. Because she wants to, I suppose. "

"Look here--it's a secret. Dorcas is going to be married by and by, andthat is the reason Mr. Starbird comes here on that white-faced horse. Hedoesn't come to see the rest of us; he comes to see Dorcas. "

Patty stopped her wheel in her eagerness. 

"Yes; and you know, when I was a little speck of a girl, I spilled somehot tallow over, and burnt his hand; and he says that is the reason heis going to marry Dorcas. "

"What! because you burnt his hand?"

"Yes. I don't see why that made him like Dorcas, " said Patty, reflectively; "but that's what he said. And then I shall have eightbrothers; won't it be nice?"

"Does Betsey Potter know?"

"Yes. I told her. "

"Well, I should have thought you might have told me first, " said Linda, pouting. "I don't like it very well to have you tell me last. "

"O, I told Betsey first because she came first. I never heard of itmyself till this morning, " said Patty, innocently. 

She was never known to keep a secret twenty-four hours. 

The idea of a wedding in the family was perfectly delightful to thelittle girl, and after this she used to watch for Mr. Starbird everythird week, just as regularly as Dorcas did, and was almost as muchpleased when she saw him coming on his white-faced horse. 

It was so nice to think of having more brothers; for as yet poor Pattyhad only seven!

CHAPTER XV. 

THE BRASS KETTLE. 

There was a great time that year preparing for Thanksgiving. It seemedas if the tall clock had never ticked so fast before, nor the full moonsmiled down from the top of it with such a jolly face. 

"It's going to be what you may call a sort of a double Thanksgiving, "said Moses. 

"Why?" asked Patty. "Because there'll be double turkeys and doublepuddings?"

"No, Patty Lyman! Don't you remember what's going to happen beforedinner?"

"O, you mean the wedding! I knew that ever so long ago. "

Patty had heard of it the day before. 

"Equal to Fourth of July and training-day put together, " remarked Moses, snatching a handful of raisins out of the bowl Mary held in her lap. 

"Yes, " said Patty, leaving off her spice-pounding long enough to clapher hands; "it's splendid!"

"I don't see how you can say so, " said the thoughtful Mary, "when ourdear sister Dorcas is going 'way off, and never'll live at home anymore!"

"Yes, I know it, " responded Patty, looking as serious as she could, forMary was wiping her eyes on her apron. "It's dreadful! O, how bad Ifeel!"

The kitchen was so full you could hardly turn around. Everybody wasthere but Dorcas, and she was finishing off her wedding-dress. Mrs. Lyman was stuffing two large turkeys; Betsey was making brown bread;Moses chopping mince-meat; and those who had nothing else to do weretalking. Aunt Hannah was there, helping Rachel make the wedding-cake;but the trouble was with aunt Hannah that she couldn't come withoutbringing her baby; and there he was, rolling about the floor like a softbundle of yellow flannel--a nice, fat baby, with a ruffled cap on hishead. He was named Job, after his father, who had borne that namethrough a long life, and been very patient about it. 

"Now, Patty, " said Rachel, "I see you've stopped pounding cloves, and Iwish you'd take care of this baby; he is rolling up towards the molassesjug, and will tip it over next thing he does. "

Patty had only stopped pounding for half a minute. It seemed to her thather right hand always had a mortar-pestle in it. She ran now to getsome playthings for Job--a string of earthen-ware beads, and a pewterplate to hold them when he should break the string; and a squash-shell, filled with peas, --just as good as a rattle, let me tell you. Then shesat on the floor, making baby-talk with the little creature, who hassince that been somebody's grandfather. 

Patty always meant well, and now she was really able to help a greatdeal. At ten years old she was quite a tall girl, though what thecountry-folks called rather "slim. " Her dress was made of thick cottonand woollen goods, all rough with little knobs, --the same Rachel hadwoven in "blue and copperas checks. "

Patty soon tired of amusing Job. She wanted to do something of moreimportance. 

"I should think I might chop mince-meat instead of you, Moses. There, now, you're getting it so fine 'twill be poison. "

Aunt Hannah heard that and laughed. 

"That child takes everything in earnest, " said she. "I told Moses if hegot the mince-meat _too_ fine, 'twould be poisonous; but I never saw anymince-meat that _was_ too fine--did you, Rachel?"

"Mary, " said Mrs. Lyman, "if you please, you may poke up the coals now. George, you'll have to move round, and let her get to the oven. "

"I'll attend to it myself, " said George, rising from his chair, at oneend of the big fireplace, and stirring the glowing coals in the brickoven with the hard-wood "poking-stick. "

"Now, if you'll all keep still, " said James, "I'll read you somethingfrom the newspaper. "

Moses dropped his chopping-knife, Mary looked frightened, and Pattystopped shaking the squash-shell. They knew it would never do to make anoise while James was reading. 

"My son, my son, " pleaded Mrs. Lyman, turning round from her turkey, andshaking her darning-needle at him, "you wouldn't try to read in all thisconfusion? Wait till we get a little over our hurry. Go to theend-cupboard, and fetch me a couple of good, stout strings; I want theseturkeys all ready to tie on the nails. "

She was going to roast them before the fire. That was the way theycooked turkeys in old times. 

"And, Betsey, " said Mrs. Lyman, "you may as well go to work on thedoughnuts. Make half a bushel or more. "

"What about the _riz_ bread?" said Betsey. 

"I should think a dozen loaves would be enough, " replied Mrs. Lyman, whowas now beginning to make a suet pudding. 

You see they meant to have plenty of food, for beside their own largefamily, they expected twenty or thirty guests to dinner day afterto-morrow. 

"O, mother!" exclaimed Mary, "I'm afraid you're not making that puddingthick enough. Siller Noonin says the pudding-stick ought to standalone. "

"Priscilla is thinking of the old Connecticut Blue Laws about mush, "replied Mrs. Lyman, smiling; "we don't mind the blue laws up here inMaine. And this isn't mush, either; it's suet pudding. --Solomon, my son, you may go into the shed-chamber, and bring me a bag of hops; we musthave some beer starting. "

Betsey swung the frying-kettle on the crane, and had just turned away, when the baby crept up, and tipped over sick George's basin ofpussy-willow and cider, which was steeping in one corner of thefireplace. There was no harm done, only Job lost his patience, andcried, and for five minutes there was a perfect Bedlam of baby-screams, chopping-knives, and mortar-pestles, and in the midst of it, the soundof the hired men winnowing grain in the barn. 

But there could hardly be too much noise for Patty. I presume she wasnever happier in her life than on the Monday and Tuesday beforeThanksgiving; but Wednesday came, and it rained in torrents. 

"Will they be married if it doesn't clear off?" said she. 

"You do ask the funniest questions, " replied Rachel. "Just as if Mr. Starbird would stay away from his own wedding on account of theweather!"

It rained all night; but Thursday morning the sun came rushing throughthe clouds, his face all aglow with smiles, and put an end to suchdismal business. Patty looked out of the window, and watched the cloudsscampering away to hide, and whispered in her heart to the little birdsthat were left in the maple trees, --

"How kind God is to give us a good wedding-day!"

About ten o'clock the guests began to come, and among the first was Mr. Starbird. Patty had never seen him look so fine as he did when he stoodup with her dear sister Dorcas to be married. He wore a blue coat, and abeautiful ruffled shirt, and his shoe-buckles--so Moses said--were ofsolid silver. Why he needed gloves in the house, Patty could notimagine; but there they were on his hands, --white kids at that. 

Dorcas was quite as fine as the bridegroom. She had no veil, but herhigh-topped comb sat on her head like a crown, and there was awonderfully rich stomacher of embroidered lace in the neck of her dress. Such a dress! It shimmered in the sun like a dove's wings, for it was ofchangeable silk, the costliest affair, Patty thought, that a bride everwore. It was fastened at the back like a little girl's frock, and thewaist was no longer than the waist of a baby's slip. 

Patty took great pride in looking at her beautiful sister, from the topof her shell comb to the tips of her white slippers, which were just thesize of Patty's own. 

The ceremony was as long as a common sermon; and it would have beenlonger yet, if Elder Lovejoy had been there to perform it. He was sick, and this man, who came in his place, did not speak in a sing-song tone;Patty was not sure it was quite right to do without that. He was youngand diffident. Patty knew he trembled, for she could see his coat-flapsshake; and she can see them shake now, every time she thinks of thewedding. 

There is something else she can see; and, as I don't believe you everheard of such a thing, I must tell you. 

After the dinner of turkeys, roast beef, mince pies, apple pies, pumpkinpies, plum and suet pudding, doughnuts, cheese, and every other goodthing you can think of, the children went into the back room for afrolic. There were aunt Hannah's three oldest girls, and uncle Joshua'sfour big boys, William Parlin and his sister Love, and a few more. 

While they were there, just beginning a game of blindfold, the bridecame out in her travelling-dress, with her young husband, to say goodby. Mary fell to crying, the twins had tears in their eyes, and it wouldhave been a very sober time, if Rachel had not called out, in her briskway, --

"All step round to the sides of the room, and let me have the middle!"

People always minded Rachel; so she had the floor at once, though no onecould think what she meant to do, when she brought along a big brasskettle, the very one in which Patty had dipped those unfortunatecandles, and set it upon a board, in the middle of the floor. 

"Now, my friends, " said she, courtesying, "you all know I am the oldestdaughter, and it isn't fair that my younger sister should be marriedbefore I am; do you think it is?"

"No, no; not at all, " said uncle Joshua's four boys, laughing. 

"And I don't see, " added Rachel, with another courtesy, --"I don't seehow Mr. Starbird happened to make such a strange mistake as to chooseDorcas instead of me!"

"I beg your pardon, " said Mr. Starbird, bowing very low, "I never'll doso again. "

"But since the deed is done, " said Rachel, "and cannot be undone, Ishall be obliged to dance in the brass kettle. That's what ladies dowhose younger sisters are married first. "

Then, with quite a sober face, she mounted a wooden cricket, steppedinto the kettle, and began to dance. 

There was not room to take many steps; but she balanced herself verygracefully, and sung, keeping time with her feet. 

Rachel was one of the brightest, wittiest young ladies in Perseverance, and this performance of hers amused the bride and bridegroom, andeverybody else but little Patty. Patty took it all in earnest. She hadnever heard before of the funny ceremony of dancing in a brass kettle, and wondered if it had anything to do with those candles of hers. 

"Mr. Starbird likes Dorcas better than he does Rachel, " thought thelittle girl, "and that was why he asked her to marry him. I should thinkRachel might know that! She says he made a mistake; but he didn't! IfRachel feels so bad, I shouldn't think she would tell of it. Poor Mr. Starbird! He'll be so sorry! and Dorcas will be so sorry! O, I wishRachel hadn't told--"

"Why, Patty, what makes you look so sober?" asked William Parlin. "Youlook as if Master Purple had been feruling you. "

But Patty was ashamed to let any one know the trouble in her mind; andafter the bride and bridegroom had gone, she ran away by herself to cry;and that is all she remembers of the wedding. 

 * * * * *

"Is it really grandma Parlin you have been writing about?" says Prudy. 

"It doesn't seem much like it; for here she sits, with her cap andspectacles on, knitting a stocking. Please take off your cap, grandma, so we can think how you looked when you were a little girl. "

Mrs. Parlin took it off, but it didn't make any difference, for her hairwas grayer still without the lace. 

"That isn't the way, children, " said aunt Madge; "you'll have toimagine how she looked; or, as Fly would say, you must make believe. Touch her hair with gold. There, see how it shines! Take off thosespectacles; smooth out the wrinkles; make her face as soft as arose-leaf, as soft as your face, Fly; dwindle her figure down, down, till she looks about ten years old. Now do you see her? Isn't shepretty? How the sparkles come and go in her eyes! Wouldn't you like tohave a romp with her in the new-mown hay? For she hasn't any morerheumatism in her back than a butterfly. Her feet are dancing thisminute in pink kid slippers with rosettes on them as big as poppies, andshe wears a white muslinet gown, with a pink calico petticoat. Wasn'tthat the way she was dressed at the wedding, father Parlin?"

"How should I know?" replies grandpa. "I don't remember what she hadon; but she was the spryest, prettiest little girl in town; and shehasn't a child--no, nor a grandchild either--that begins to be equal toher. "

"Except Flyaway, " cries Prudy; "you forget that Flyaway is just likeher!"

 * * * * *

This is not a bad place to leave our friends. I did intend to tell aboutanother member of the circle; but I believe I will not, for I may puthim into another story; that is, if you would like to hear about WilliamParlin, --I wonder if you would?--in a book we will call "LITTLEGRANDFATHER. "