A Garland for Girls

By Louisa May Alcott

TO R. A. LAWRENCE

THIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED BY HER GRATEFUL FRIEND, L. M. ALCOTT

CONTENTS

MAY FLOWERS

AN IVY SPRAY AND LADIES' SLIPPERS

PANSIES

WATER-LILIES

POPPIES AND WHEAT

LITTLE BUTTON-ROSE

MOUNTAIN-LAUREL AND MAIDEN-HAIR

PREFACE

These stories were written for my own amusement during a period ofenforced seclusion. The flowers which were my solace and pleasuresuggested titles for the tales and gave an interest to the work. 

If my girls find a little beauty or sunshine in these commonblossoms, their old friend will not have made her Garland in vain. 

L. M. ALCOTT. 

SEPTEMBER, 1887. 

MAY FLOWERS

Being Boston girls, of course they got up a club for mentalimprovement, and, as they were all descendants of the PilgrimFathers, they called it the Mayflower Club. A very good name, andthe six young girls who were members of it made a very pretty posywhen they met together, once a week, to sew, and read well-chosenbooks. At the first meeting of the season, after being separated allsummer, there was a good deal of gossip to be attended to before thequestion, "What shall we read?" came up for serious discussion. 

Anna Winslow, as president, began by proposing "Happy Dodd;" but achorus of "I've read it!" made her turn to her list for anothertitle. 

"'Prisoners of Poverty' is all about workingwomen, very true andvery sad; but Mamma said it might do us good to know something ofthe hard times other girls have, " said Anna, soberly; for she was athoughtful creature, very anxious to do her duty in all ways. 

"I'd rather not know about sad things, since I can't help to makethem any better, " answered Ella Carver, softly patting the appleblossoms she was embroidering on a bit of blue satin. 

"But we might help if we really tried, I suppose; you know how muchHappy Dodd did when she once began, and she was only a poor littlegirl without half the means of doing good which we have, " said Anna, glad to discuss the matter, for she had a little plan in her headand wanted to prepare a way for proposing it. 

"Yes, I'm always saying that I have more than my share of fun andcomfort and pretty things, and that I ought and will share them withsome one. But I don't do it; and now and then, when I hear aboutreal poverty, or dreadful sickness, I feel so wicked it quite upsetsme. If I knew HOW to begin, I really would. But dirty littlechildren don't come in my way, nor tipsy women to be reformed, nornice lame girls to sing and pray with, as it all happens in books, "cried Marion Warren, with such a remorseful expression on her merryround face that her mates laughed with one accord. 

"I know something that I COULD do if I only had the courage to beginit. But Papa would shake his head unbelievingly, and Mamma worryabout its being proper, and it would interfere with my music, andeverything nice that I especially wanted to go to would be sureto come on whatever day I set for my good work, and I should getdiscouraged or ashamed, and not half do it, so I don't begin, but Iknow I ought. " And Elizabeth Alden rolled her large eyes from onefriend to another, as if appealing to them to goad her to this dutyby counsel and encouragement of some sort. 

"Well, I suppose it's right, but I do perfectly hate to go pokinground among poor folks, smelling bad smells, seeing dreadful sights, hearing woful tales, and running the risk of catching fever, anddiphtheria, and horrid things. I don't pretend to like charity, butsay right out I'm a silly, selfish wretch, and want to enjoy everyminute, and not worry about other people. Isn't it shameful?"

Maggie Bradford looked such a sweet little sinner as she boldly madethis sad confession, that no one could scold her, though IdaStandish, her bosom friend, shook her head, and Anna said, with asigh: "I'm afraid we all feel very much as Maggie does, though wedon't own it so honestly. Last spring, when I was ill and thought Imight die, I was so ashamed of my idle, frivolous winter, that Ifelt as if I'd give all I had to be able to live it over and dobetter. Much is not expected of a girl of eighteen, I know; but oh!there were heaps of kind little things I MIGHT have done if I hadn'tthought only of myself. I resolved if I lived I'd try at least to beless selfish, and make some one happier for my being in the world. Itell you, girls, it's rather solemn when you lie expecting to die, and your sins come up before you, even though they are very smallones. I never shall forget it, and after my lovely summer I mean tobe a better girl, and lead a better life if I can. "

Anna was so much in earnest that her words, straight out of a veryinnocent and contrite heart, touched her hearers deeply, and putthem into the right mood to embrace her proposition. No one spokefor a moment, then Maggie said quietly, --

"I know what it is. I felt very much so when the horses ran away, and for fifteen minutes I sat clinging to Mamma, expecting to bekilled. Every unkind, undutiful word I'd ever said to her came backto me, and was worse to bear than the fear of sudden death. Itscared a great deal of naughtiness out of me, and dear Mamma and Ihave been more to each other ever since. "

"Let us begin with 'The Prisoners of Poverty, ' and perhaps it willshow us something to do, " said Lizzie. "But I must say I never feltas if shop-girls needed much help; they generally seem so contentedwith themselves, and so pert or patronizing to us, that I don't pitythem a bit, though it must be a hard life. "

"I think we can't do MUCH in that direction, except set an exampleof good manners when we go shopping. I wanted to propose that weeach choose some small charity for this winter, and do itfaithfully. That will teach us how to do more by and by, and we canhelp one another with our experiences, perhaps, or amuse with ourfailures. What do you say?" asked Anna, surveying her five friendswith a persuasive smile. 

"What COULD we do?"

"People will call us goody-goody. "

"I haven't the least idea how to go to work"

"Don't believe Mamma will let me. "

"We'd better change our names from May Flowers to sisters ofcharity, and wear meek black bonnets and flapping cloaks. "

Anna received these replies with great composure, and waited for themeeting to come to order, well knowing that the girls would havetheir fun and outcry first, and then set to work in good earnest. 

"I think it's a lovely idea, and I'll carry out my plan. But I won'ttell what it is yet; you'd all shout, and say I couldn't do it, butif you were trying also, that would keep me up to the mark, " saidLizzie, with a decided snap of her scissors, as she trimmed theedges of a plush case for her beloved music. 

"Suppose we all keep our attempts secret, and not let our right handknow what the left hand does? It's such fun to mystify people, andthen no one can laugh at us. If we fail, we can say nothing; if wesucceed, we can tell of it and get our reward. I'd like that way, and will look round at once for some especially horrid boot-black, ungrateful old woman, or ugly child, and devote myself to him, her, or it with the patience of a saint, " cried Maggie, caught by theidea of doing good in secret and being found out by accident. 

The other girls agreed, after some discussion, and then Anna tookthe floor again. 

"I propose that we each work in our own way till next May, then, atour last meeting, report what we have done, truly and honestly, andplan something better for next year. Is it a vote?"

It evidently was a unanimous vote, for five gold thimbles went up, and five blooming faces smiled as the five girlish voices cried, "Aye!"

"Very well, now let us decide what to read, and begin at once. Ithink the 'Prisoners' a good book, and we shall doubtless get somehints from it. "

So they began, and for an hour one pleasant voice after the otherread aloud those sad, true stories of workingwomen and their hardlives, showing these gay young creatures what their pretty clothescost the real makers of them, and how much injustice, suffering, andwasted strength went into them. It was very sober reading, but mostabsorbing; for the crochet needles went slower and slower, thelace-work lay idle, and a great tear shone like a drop of dew on theapple blossoms as Ella listened to "Rose's Story. " They skipped thestatistics, and dipped here and there as each took her turn; butwhen the two hours were over, and it was time for the club toadjourn, all the members were deeply interested in that patheticbook, and more in earnest than before; for this glimpse into otherlives showed them how much help was needed, and made them anxious tolend a hand, "We can't do much, being 'only girls, '" said Anna; "but if each doesone small chore somewhere it will pave the way for better work; sowe will all try, at least, though it seems like so many ants tryingto move a mountain. "

"Well, ants build nests higher than a man's head in Africa; youremember the picture of them in our old geographies? And we can doas much, I'm sure, if each tugs her pebble or straw faithfully. Ishall shoulder mine to-morrow if Mamma is willing, " answered Lizzie, shutting up her work-bag as if she had her resolution inside and wasafraid it might evaporate before she got home. 

"I shall stand on the Common, and proclaim aloud, 'Here's a niceyoung missionary, in want of a job! Charity for sale cheap! Who'llbuy? who'll buy?'" said Maggie, with a resigned expression, and asanctimonious twang to her voice. 

"I shall wait and see what comes to me, since I don't know what I'mfit for;" and Marion gazed out of the window as if expecting to seesome interesting pauper waiting for her to appear. 

"I shall ask Miss Bliss for advice; she knows all about the poor, and will give me a good start, " added prudent Ida, who resolved todo nothing rashly lest she should fail. 

"I shall probably have a class of dirty little girls, and teach themhow to sew, as I can't do anything else. They won't learn much, butsteal, and break, and mess, and be a dreadful trial, and I shall getlaughed at and wish I hadn't done it. Still I shall try it, andsacrifice my fancy-work to the cause of virtue, " said Ella, carefully putting away her satin glove-case with a fond glance atthe delicate flowers she so loved to embroider. 

"I have no plans, but want to do so much! I shall have to wait tillI discover what is best. After to-day we won't speak of our work, orit won't be a secret any longer. In May we will report. Good luck toall, and good-by till next Saturday. "

With these farewell words from their president the girls departed, with great plans and new ideas simmering in their young heads andhearts. 

It seemed a vast undertaking; but where there is a will there isalways a way, and soon it was evident that each had found "a littlechore" to do for sweet charity's sake. Not a word was said at theweekly meetings, but the artless faces betrayed all shades of hope, discouragement, pride, and doubt, as their various attempts seemedlikely to succeed or fail. Much curiosity was felt, and a fewaccidental words, hints, or meetings in queer places, were veryexciting, though nothing was discovered. 

Marion was often seen in a North End car, and Lizzie in a South Endcar, with a bag of books and papers. Ella haunted a certain shopwhere fancy articles were sold, and Ida always brought plain sewingto the club. Maggie seemed very busy at home, and Anna was foundwriting industriously several times when one of her friends called. All seemed very happy, and rather important when outsidersquestioned them about their affairs. But they had their pleasures asusual, and seemed to enjoy them with an added relish, as if theyrealized as never before how many blessings they possessed, and weregrateful for them. 

So the winter passed, and slowly something new and pleasant seemedto come into the lives of these young girls. The listless, discontented look some of them used to wear passed away; a sweetearnestness and a cheerful activity made them charming, though theydid not know it, and wondered when people said, "That set of girlsare growing up beautifully; they will make fine women by and by. "The mayflowers were budding under the snow, and as spring came onthe fresh perfume began to steal out, the rosy faces to brighten, and the last year's dead leaves to fall away, leaving the youngplants green and strong. 

On the 15th of May the club met for the last time that season, assome left town early, and all were full of spring work and summerplans. Every member was in her place at an unusually early hour thatday, and each wore an air of mingled anxiety, expectation, andsatisfaction, pleasant to behold. Anna called them to order withthree raps of her thimble and a beaming smile. 

"We need not choose a book for our reading to-day, as each of us isto contribute an original history of her winter's work. I know itwill be very interesting, and I hope more instructive, than some ofthe novels we have read. Who shall begin?"

"You! you!" was the unanimous answer; for all loved and respectedher very much, and felt that their presiding officer should open theball. 

Anna colored modestly, but surprised her friends by the composurewith which she related her little story, quite as if used to publicspeaking. 

"You know I told you last November that I should have to look aboutfor something that I COULD do. I did look a long time, and wasrather in despair, when my task came to me in the most unexpectedway. Our winter work was being done, so I had a good deal ofshopping on my hands, and found it less a bore than usual, because Iliked to watch the shop-girls, and wish I dared ask some of them ifI could help them. I went often to get trimmings and buttons atCotton's, and had a good deal to do with the two girls at thatcounter. They were very obliging and patient about matching some jetornaments for Mamma, and I found out that their names were Mary andMaria Porter. I liked them, for they were very neat and plain intheir dress, --not like some, who seem to think that if their waistsare small, and their hair dressed in the fashion, it is no matterhow soiled their collars are, nor how untidy their nails. Well, oneday when I went for certain kinds of buttons which were to be madefor us, Maria, the younger one, who took the order, was not there. Iasked for her, and Mary said she was at home with a lame knee. I wasso sorry, and ventured to put a few questions in a friendly way. Mary seemed glad to tell her troubles, and I found that 'Ria, ' asshe called her sister, had been suffering for a long time, but didnot complain for fear of losing her place. No stools are allowed atCotton's, so the poor girls stand nearly all day, or rest a minutenow and then on a half-opened drawer. I'd seen Maria doing it, andwondered why some one did not make a stir about seats in this place, as they have in other stores and got stools for the shop women. Ididn't dare to speak to the gentlemen, but I gave Mary the Jackroses I wore in my breast, and asked if I might take some books orflowers to poor Maria. It was lovely to see her sad face light upand hear her thank me when I went to see her, for she was verylonely without her sister, and discouraged about her place. She didnot lose it entirely, but had to work at home, for her lame kneewill be a long time in getting well. I begged Mamma and Mrs. Ailingham to speak to Mr. Cotton for her; so she got the mending ofthe jet and bead work to do, and buttons to cover, and things ofthat sort. Mary takes them to and fro, and Maria feels so happy notto be idle. We also got stools, for all the other girls in thatshop. Mrs. Allingham is so rich and kind she can do anything, andnow it's such a comfort to see those tired things resting when offduty that I often go in and enjoy the sight. "

Anna paused as cries of "Good! good!" interrupted her tale; but shedid not add the prettiest part of it, and tell how the faces of theyoung women behind the counters brightened when she came in, nor howgladly all served the young lady who showed them what a truegentlewoman was. 

"I hope that isn't all?" said Maggie, eagerly. 

"Only a little more. I know you will laugh when I tell you that I'vebeen reading papers to a class of shop-girls at the Union once aweek all winter. "

A murmur of awe and admiration greeted this deeply interestingstatement; for, true to the traditions of the modern Athens in whichthey lived, the girls all felt the highest respect for "papers" onany subject, it being the fashion for ladies, old and young, to readand discuss every subject, from pottery to Pantheism, at the variousclubs all over the city. 

"It came about very naturally, " continued Anna, as if anxious toexplain her seeming audacity. "I used to go to see Molly and Ria, and heard all about their life and its few pleasures, and learned tolike them more and more. They had only each other in the world, lived in two rooms, worked all day, and in the way of amusement orinstruction had only what they found at the Union in the evening. Iwent with them a few times, and saw how useful and pleasant it was, and wanted to help, as other kind girls only a little older than Idid. Eva Randal read a letter from a friend in Russia one time, andthe girls enjoyed it very much. That reminded me of my brotherGeorge's lively journals, written when he was abroad. You rememberhow we used to laugh over them when he sent them home? Well, when Iwas begged to give them an evening, I resolved to try one of thoseamusing journal-letters, and chose the best, --all about how Georgeand a friend went to the different places Dickens describes in someof his funny books. I wish you could have seen how those dear girlsenjoyed it, and laughed till they cried over the dismay of the boys, when they knocked at a door in Kingsgate Street, and asked if Mrs. Gamp lived there. It was actually a barber's shop, and a little man, very like Poll Sweedlepipes, told them 'Mrs. Britton was the nuss aslived there now. ' It upset those rascals to come so near the truth, and they ran away because they couldn't keep sober. "

The members of the club indulged in a general smile as they recalledthe immortal Sairey with "the bottle on the mankle-shelf, " the"cowcuber, " and the wooden pippins. Then Anna continued, with an airof calm satisfaction, quite sure now of her audience and herself, --

"It was a great success. So I went on, and when the journals weredone, I used to read other things, and picked up books for theirlibrary, and helped in any way I could, while learning to know thembetter and give them confidence in me. They are proud and shy, justas we should be but if you REALLY want to be friends and don't mindrebuffs now and then, they come to trust and like you, and there isso much to do for them one never need sit idle any more. I won'tgive names, as they don't like it, nor tell how I tried to servethem, but it is very sweet and good for me to have found this work, and to know that each year I can do it better and better. So I feelencouraged and am very glad I began, as I hope you all are. Now, whocomes next?"

As Anna ended, the needles dropped and ten soft hands gave her ahearty round of applause; for all felt that she had done well, andchosen a task especially fitted to her powers, as she had money, time, tact, and the winning manners that make friends everywhere. 

Beaming with pleasure at their approval, but feeling that they madetoo much of her small success, Anna called the club to order bysaying, "Ella looks as if she were anxious to tell her experiences, so perhaps we had better ask her to hold forth next. "

"Hear! hear!" cried the girls; and, nothing loath, Ella promptlybegan, with twinkling eyes and a demure smile, for HER story endedromantically. 

"If you are interested in shop-girls, Miss President and ladies, youwill like to know that _I_ am one, at least a silent partner andco-worker in a small fancy store at the West End. "

"No!" exclaimed the amazed club with one voice; and, satisfied withthis sensational beginning Ella went on. 

"I really am, and you have bought some of my fancy-work. Isn't thata good joke? You needn't stare so, for I actually made thatneedle-book, Anna, and my partner knit Lizzie's new cloud. This isthe way it all happened. I didn't wish to waste any time, but onecan't rush into the street and collar shabby little girls, and say, 'Come along and learn to sew, ' without a struggle, so I thought I'dgo and ask Mrs. Brown how to begin. Her branch of the AssociatedCharities is in Laurel Street, not far from our house, you know; andthe very day after our last meeting I posted off to get my 'chore. 'I expected to have to fit work for poor needlewomen, or go to seesome dreadful sick creature, or wash dirty little Pats, and wasbracing up my mind for whatever might come, as I toiled up the hillin a gale of wind. Suddenly my hat flew off and went gayly skippingaway, to the great delight of some black imps, who only grinned andcheered me on as I trotted after it with wild grabs and wrathfuldodges. I got it at last out of a puddle, and there I was in a nicemess. The elastic was broken, feather wet, and the poor thing allmud and dirt. I didn't care much, as it was my old one, --dressed formy work, you see. But I couldn't go home bareheaded, and I didn'tknow a soul in that neighborhood. I turned to step into a grocerystore at the corner, to borrow a brush or buy a sheet of paper towear, for I looked like a lunatic with my battered hat and my hairin a perfect mop. Luckily I spied a woman's fancy shop on the othercorner, and rushed in there to hide myself, for the brats hooted andpeople stared. It was a very small shop, and behind the counter sata tall, thin, washed-out-looking woman, making a baby's hood. Shelooked poor and blue and rather sour, but took pity on me; and whileshe sewed the cord, dried the feather, and brushed off the dirt, Iwarmed myself and looked about to see what I could buy in return forher trouble. 

"A few children's aprons hung in the little window, with some knitlace, balls, and old-fashioned garters, two or three dolls, and avery poor display of small wares. In a show-case, however, on thetable that was the counter, I found some really pretty things, madeof plush, silk, and ribbon, with a good deal of taste. So I said I'dbuy a needle-book, and a gay ball, and a pair of distracting baby'sshoes, made to look like little open-work socks with pinkankle-ties, so cunning and dainty, I was glad to get them for CousinClara's baby. The woman seemed pleased, though she had a grim way oftalking, and never smiled once. I observed that she handled my hatas if used to such work, and evidently liked to do it. I thanked herfor repairing damages so quickly and well, and she said, with my haton her hand, as if she hated to part with it, 'I'm used tomillineryin' and never should have give it up, if I didn't have myfolks to see to. I took this shop, hopin' to make things go, as sucha place was needed round here, but mother broke down, and is a sightof care; so I couldn't leave her, and doctors is expensive, andtimes hard, and I had to drop my trade, and fall back on pins andneedles, and so on. '"

Ella was a capital mimic, and imitated the nasal tones of theVermont woman to the life, with a doleful pucker of her own bloomingface, which gave such a truthful picture of poor Miss Almira Millerthat those who had seen her recognized it at once, and laughedgayly. 

"Just as I was murmuring a few words of regret at her bad luck, "continued Ella, "a sharp voice called out from a back room, 'Almiry!Almiry! come here. ' It sounded very like a cross parrot, but it wasthe old lady, and while I put on my hat I heard her asking who wasin the shop, and what we were 'gabbin' about. ' Her daughter toldher, and the old soul demanded to 'see the gal;' so I went in, beingready for fun as usual. It was a little, dark, dismal place, but asneat as a pin, and in the bed sat a regular Grandma Smallweedsmoking a pipe, with a big cap, a snuff-box, and a red cottonhandkerchief. She was a tiny, dried-up thing, brown as a berry, witheyes like black beads, a nose and chin that nearly met, and handslike birds' claws. But such a fierce, lively, curious, blunt oldlady you never saw, and I didn't know what would be the end of mewhen she began to question, then to scold, and finally to demandthat 'folks should come and trade to Almiry's shop after promisin'they would, and she havin' took a lease of the place on account ofthem lies. ' I wanted to laugh, but dared not do it, so just let hercroak, for the daughter had to go to her customers. The old lady'stirade informed me that they came from Vermont, had 'been wal on 'ttill father died and the farm was sold. ' Then it seems the womencame to Boston and got on pretty well till 'a stroke of numb-palsy, 'whatever that is, made the mother helpless and kept Almiry at hometo care for her. I can't tell you how funny and yet how sad it wasto see the poor old soul, so full of energy and yet so helpless, andthe daughter so discouraged with her pathetic little shop and nocustomers to speak of. I did not know what to say till 'GrammerMiller, ' as the children call her, happened to say, when she took upher knitting after the lecture, 'If folks who go spendin' moneyreckless on redic'lus toys for Christmas only knew what nice things, useful and fancy, me and Almiry could make ef we had the goods, they'd jest come round this corner and buy 'em, and keep me out of aOld Woman's Home and that good, hard-workin' gal of mine out of a'sylum; for go there she will ef she don't get a boost somehow, withrent and firin' and vittles all on her shoulders, and me only ableto wag them knittin'-needles. '

"'I will buy things here, and tell all my friends about it, and Ihave a drawer full of pretty bits of silk and velvet and plush, thatI will give Miss Miller for her work, if she will let me. ' I addedthat, for I saw that Almiry was rather proud, and hid her troublesunder a grim look. 

"That pleased the old lady, and, lowering her voice, she said, witha motherly sort of look in her beady eyes: 'Seein' as you are sofriendly, I'll tell you what frets me most, a layin' here, a burdento my darter. She kep' company with Nathan Baxter, a mastercarpenter up to Westminster where we lived, and ef father hadn't adied suddin' they'd a ben married. They waited a number o' years, workin' to their trades, and we was hopin' all would turn out wal, when troubles come, and here we be. Nathan's got his own folks tosee to, and Almiry won't add to HIS load with hern, nor leave me; soshe give him back his ring, and jest buckled to all alone. She don'tsay a word, but it's wearin' her to a shadder, and I can't do athing to help, but make a few pinballs, knit garters, and kiverholders. Ef she got a start in business it would cheer her up asight, and give her a kind of a hopeful prospeck, for old folkscan't live forever, and Nathan is a waitin', faithful and true. '

"That just finished me, for I am romantic, and do enjoy love storieswith all my heart, even if the lovers are only a skinny spinster anda master carpenter. So I just resolved to see what I could do forpoor Almiry and the peppery old lady. I didn't promise anything butmy bits, and, taking the things I bought, went home to talk it overwith Mamma. I found she had often got pins and tape, and such smallwares, at the little shop, and found it very convenient, though sheknew nothing about the Millers. She was willing I should help if Icould, but advised going slowly, and seeing what they could dofirst. We did not dare to treat them like beggars, and send themmoney and clothes, and tea and sugar, as we do the Irish, for theywere evidently respectable people, and proud as poor. So I took mybundle of odds and ends, and Mamma added some nice large pieces ofdresses we had done with, and gave a fine order for aprons andholders and balls for our church fair. 

"It would have done your hearts good, girls, to see those poor oldfaces light up as I showed my scraps, and asked if the work would beready by Christmas. Grammer fairly swam in the gay colors I strewedover her bed, and enjoyed them like a child, while Almiry tried tobe grim, but had to give it up, as she began at once to cut outaprons, and dropped tears all over the muslin when her back wasturned to me. I didn't know a washed-out old maid COULD be sopathetic. "

Ella stopped to give a regretful sigh over her past blindness, whileher hearers made a sympathetic murmur; for young hearts are verytender, and take an innocent interest in lovers' sorrows, no matterhow humble. 

"Well, that was the beginning of it. I got so absorbed in makingthings go well that I didn't look any further, but just 'buckled to'with Miss Miller and helped run that little shop. No one knew me inthat street, so I slipped in and out, and did what I liked. The oldlady and I got to be great friends; though she often pecked andcroaked like a cross raven, and was very wearing. I kept her busywith her 'pin-balls and knittin'-work, and supplied Almiry withpretty materials for the various things I found she could make. Youwouldn't believe what dainty bows those long fingers could tie, whatravishing doll's hats she would make out of a scrap of silk andlace, or the ingenious things she concocted with cones and shellsand fans and baskets. I love such work, and used to go and help heroften, for I wanted her window and shop to be full for Christmas, and lure in plenty of customers. Our new toys and the little casesof sewing silk sold well, and people began to come more, after Ilent Almiry some money to lay in a stock of better goods. Papaenjoyed my business venture immensely, and was never tired of jokingabout it. He actually went and bought balls for four small blackboys who were gluing their noses to the window one day, spellboundby the orange, red, and blue treasures displayed there. He liked mypartner's looks, though he teased me by saying that we'd better addlemonade to our stock, as poor, dear Almiry's acid face would makelemons unnecessary, and sugar and water were cheap. 

"Well, Christmas came, and we did a great business, for Mamma cameand sent others, and our fancy things were as pretty and cheaperthan those at the art stores, so they went well, and the Millerswere cheered up, and I felt encouraged, and we took a fresh startafter the holidays. One of my gifts at New Year was my ownglove-case, --you remember the apple-blossom thing I began lastautumn? I put it in our window to fill up, and Mamma bought it, andgave it to me full of elegant gloves, with a sweet note, and Papasent a check to 'Miller, Warren & Co. ' I was so pleased and proud Icould hardly help telling you all. But the best joke was the day yougirls came in and bought our goods, and I peeped at you through thecrack of the door, being in the back room dying with laughter to seeyou look round, and praise our 'nice assortment of useful and prettyarticles. '"

"That's all very well, and we can bear to be laughed at if yousucceeded, Miss. But I don't believe you did, for no Millers arethere now. Have you taken a palatial store on Boylston Street forthis year, intending to run it alone? We'll all patronize it, andyour name will look well on a sign, " said Maggie, wondering what theend of Ella's experience had been. 

"Ah! I still have the best of it, for my romance finished updelightfully, as you shall hear. We did well all winter, and nowonder. What was needed was a little 'boost' in the right direction, and I could give it; so my Millers were much comforted, and we weregood friends. But in March Grammer died suddenly, and poor Almirymourned as if she had been the sweetest mother in the world. The oldlady's last wishes were to be 'laid out harnsome in a cap with apale blue satin ribbin, white wasn't becomin', to hev at least threecarriages to the funeral, and be sure a paper with her death in itwas sent to N. Baxter, Westminster, Vermont. '

"I faithfully obeyed her commands, put on the ugly cap myself, gavea party of old ladies from the home a drive in the hacks, andcarefully directed a marked paper to Nathan, hoping that he HADproved 'faithful and true. ' I didn't expect he would, so was notsurprised when no answer came. But I WAS rather amazed when Almirytold me she didn't care to keep on with the store now she was free. She wanted to visit her friends a spell this spring, and in the fallwould go back to her trade in some milliner's store. 

"I was sorry, for I really enjoyed my partnership. It seemed alittle bit ungrateful after all my trouble in getting her customers, but I didn't say anything, and we sold out to the Widow Bates, whois a good soul with six children, and will profit by our efforts. 

"Almiry bid me good-by with all the grim look gone out of her face, many thanks, and a hearty promise to write soon. That was in April. A week ago I got a short letter saying, --

"'DEAR FRIEND, --You will be pleased to hear that I am married to Mr. Baxter, and shall remain here. He was away when the paper came withmother's death, but as soon as he got home he wrote. I couldn't makeup my mind till I got home and see him. Now it's all right. And I amvery happy. Many thanks for all you done for me and mother. I shallnever forget it My husband sends respects, and I remain Yoursgratefully, ALMIRA M. BAXTER. '"

"That's splendid! You did well, and next winter you can look upanother sour spinster and cranky old lady and make them happy, " saidAnna, with the approving smile all loved to receive from her. 

"My adventures are not a bit romantic, or even interesting, and yetI've been as busy as a bee all winter, and enjoyed my work verymuch, " began Elizabeth, as the President gave her a nod. 

"The plan I had in mind was to go and carry books and papers to thepeople in hospitals, as one of Mamma's friends has done for years. Iwent once to the City Hospital with her, and it was veryinteresting, but I didn't dare to go to the grown people all alone, so I went to the Children's Hospital, and soon loved to help amusethe poor little dears. I saved all the picture-books and papers Icould find for them, dressed dolls, and mended toys, and got newones, and made bibs and night-gowns, and felt like the mother of alarge family. 

"I had my pets, of course, and did my best for them, reading andsinging and amusing them, for many suffered very much. One littlegirl was so dreadfully burned she could not use her hands, and wouldlie and look at a gay dolly tied to the bedpost by the hourtogether, and talk to it and love it, and died with it on her pillowwhen I 'sung lullaby' to her for the last time. I keep it among mytreasures, for I learned a lesson in patience from little Norah thatI never can forget. 

"Then Jimmy Dolan with hip disease was a great delight to me, for hewas as gay as a lark in spite of pain, and a real little hero in theway he bore the hard things that had to be done to him. He never canget well, and he is at home now; but I still see to him, and he islearning to make toy furniture very nicely, so that by and by, if hegets able to work at all, he may be able to learn a cabinet-maker'strade, or some easy work. 

"But my pet of pets was Johnny, the blind boy. His poor eyes had tobe taken out, and there he was left so helpless and pathetic, allhis life before him, and no one to help him, for his people werepoor and he had to go away from the hospital since he was incurable. He seemed almost given to me, for the first time I saw him I wassinging to Jimmy, when the door opened and a small boy came fumblingin. 

"'I hear a pretty voice, I want to find it, ' he said, stopping as Istopped with both hands out as if begging for more. 

"'Come on. Johnny, and the lady will sing to you like a bobolink, 'called Jimmy, as proud as Barnum showing off Jumbo. 

"The poor little thing came and stood at my knee, without stirring, while I sang all the nursery jingles I knew. Then he put such a thinlittle finger on my lips as if to feel where the music came from, and said, smiling all over his white face, 'More, please more, lotsof 'em! I love it!'

"So I sang away till I was as hoarse as a crow, and Johnny drank itall in like water; kept time with his head, stamped when I gave him'Marching through Georgia, ' and hurrahed feebly in the chorus of'Red, White, and Blue. ' It was lovely to see how he enjoyed it, andI was so glad I had a voice to comfort those poor babies with. Hecried when I had to go, and so touched my heart that I asked allabout him, and resolved to get him into the Blind School as the onlyplace where he could be taught and made happy. "

"I thought you were bound there the day I met you, Lizzie; but youlooked as solemn as if all your friends had lost their sight, " criedMarion. 

"I did feel solemn, for if Johnny could not go there he would bebadly off. Fortunately he was ten, and dear Mrs. Russell helped me, and those good people took him in though they were crowded. 'Wecannot turn one away, ' said kind Mr. Parpatharges. 

"So there my boy is, as happy as a king with his little mates, learning all sorts of useful lessons and pretty plays. He modelsnicely in clay. Here is one of his little works. Could you do aswell without eyes?" and Lizzie proudly produced a very one-sidedpear with a long straw for a stem. "I don't expect he will ever be asculptor, but I hope he will do something with music he loves it so, and is already piping away on a fife very cleverly. Whatever hisgift may prove, if he lives, he will be taught to be a useful, independent man, not a helpless burden, nor an unhappy creaturesitting alone in the dark. I feel very happy about my lads, and amsurprised to find how well I get on with them. I shall look up somemore next year, for I really think I have quite a gift that way, though you wouldn't expect it, as I have no brothers, and always hada fancy boys were little imps. "

The girls were much amused at Lizzie's discovery of her own powers, for she was a stately damsel, who never indulged in romps, but livedfor her music. Now it was evident that she had found the key tounlock childish hearts, and was learning to use it, quiteunconscious that the sweet voice she valued so highly was muchimproved by the tender tones singing lullabies gave it. The fat pearwas passed round like refreshments, receiving much praise and noharsh criticism; and when it was safely returned to its proudpossessor, Ida began her tale in a lively tone. 

"I waited for MY chore, and it came tumbling down our basement stepsone rainy day in the shape of a large dilapidated umbrella with apair of small boots below it. A mild howl made me run to open thedoor, for I was at lunch in the dining-room, all alone, and ratherblue because I couldn't go over to see Ella. A very small girl laywith her head in a puddle at the foot of the steps, the boots wavingin the air, and the umbrella brooding over her like a draggled greenbird. 

"'Are you hurt, child?' said I. 

"'No, I thank you, ma'am, ' said the mite quite calmly, as she sat upand settled a woman's shabby black hat on her head. 

"'Did you come begging?' I asked. 

"'No, ma'am, I came for some things Mrs. Grover's got for us. Shetold me to. I don't beg. ' And up rose the sopping thing with greatdignity. 

"So I asked her to sit down, and ran up to call Mrs. Grover. She wasbusy with Grandpa just then, and when I went back to my lunch theresat my lady with her arms folded, water dripping out of the toes ofher old boots as they hung down from the high chair, and the biggestblue eyes I ever saw fixed upon the cake and oranges on the table. Igave her a piece, and she sighed with rapture, but only picked at ittill I asked if she didn't like it. 

"'Oh yes, 'm, it's elegant! Only I was wishin' I could take it toCaddy and Tot, if you didn't mind. They never had frostin' in alltheir lives, and I did once. '

"Of course I put up a little basket of cake and oranges and figs, and while Lotty feasted, we talked. I found that their mother washeddishes all day in a restaurant over by the Albany Station, leavingthe three children alone in the room they have on Berry Street. Think of that poor thing going off before light these wintermornings to stand over horrid dishes all day long, and those threescraps of children alone till night! Sometimes they had a fire, andwhen they hadn't they stayed in bed. Broken food and four dollars aweek was all the woman got, and on that they tried to live. GoodMrs. Grover happened to be nursing a poor soul near Berry Streetlast summer, and used to see the three little things trailing roundthe streets with no one to look after them. 

"Lotty is nine, though she looks about six, but is as old as mostgirls of fourteen, and takes good care of 'the babies, ' as she callsthe younger ones. Mrs. Grover went to see them, and, though ahard-working creature, did all she could for them. This winter shehas plenty of time to sew, for Grandpapa needs little done for himexcept at night and morning, and that kind woman spent her ownmoney, and got warm flannel and cotton and stuff, and made eachchild a good suit. Lotty had come for hers, and when the bundle wasin her arms she hugged it close, and put up her little face to kissGrover so prettily, I felt that I wanted to do something too. So Ihunted up Min's old waterproof and rubbers, and a hood, and sentLotty home as happy as a queen, promising to go and see her. I didgo, and there was my work all ready for me. Oh, girls! such a bare, cold room, without a spark of fire, and no food but a pan of bits ofpie and bread and meat, not fit for any one to eat, and in the bed, with an old carpet for cover, lay the three children. Tot and Caddycuddled in the warmest place, while Lotty, with her little bluehands, was trying to patch up some old stockings with bits ofcotton. I didn't know how to begin, but Lotty did, and I just tookher orders; for that wise little woman told me where to buy a bushelof coal and some kindlings, and milk and meal, and all I wanted. Iworked like a beaver for an hour or two, and was so glad I'd been toa cooking-class, for I could make a fire, with Lotty to do thegrubby part, and start a nice soup with the cold meat and potatoes, and an onion or so. Soon the room was warm, and full of a nicesmell, and out of bed tumbled 'the babies, ' to dance round the stoveand sniff at the soup, and drink milk like hungry kittens, till Icould get bread and butter ready. 

"It was great fun! and when we had cleared things up a bit, and I'dput food for supper in the closet, and told Lotty to warm a bowl ofsoup for her mother and keep the fire going, I went home tired anddirty, but very glad I'd found something to do. It is perfectlyamazing how little poor people's things cost, and yet they can't getthe small amount of money needed without working themselves todeath. Why, all I bought didn't cost more than I often spend forflowers, or theatre tickets, or lunches, and it made those poorbabies so comfortable I could have cried to think I'd never done itbefore. "

Ida paused to shake her head remorsefully, then went on with herstory, sewing busily all the while on an unbleached cottonnight-gown which looked about fit for a large doll. 

"I have no romantic things to tell, for poor Mrs. Kennedy was ashiftless, broken-down woman, who could only 'sozzle round, ' as Mrs. Grover said, and rub along with help from any one who would lend ahand. She had lived out, married young, and had no faculty aboutanything; so when her husband died, and she was left with threelittle children, it was hard to get on, with no trade, feeblehealth, and a discouraged mind. She does her best, loves the girls, and works hard at the only thing she can find to do; but when shegives out, they will all have to part, --she to a hospital, and thebabies to some home. She dreads that, and tugs away, trying to keeptogether and get ahead. Thanks to Mrs. Grover, who is very sensible, and knows how to help poor people, we have made things comfortable, and the winter has gone nicely. 

"The mother has got work nearer home, Lotty and Caddy go to school, and Tot is safe and warm, with Miss Parsons to look after her. MissParsons is a young woman who was freezing and starving in a littleroom upstairs, too proud to beg and too shy and sick to get muchwork. I found her warming her hands one day in Mrs. Kennedy's room, and hanging over the soup-pot as if she was eating the smell. Itreminded me of the picture in Punch where the two beggar boys lookin at a kitchen, sniffing at the nice dinner cooking there. Onesays, 'I don't care for the meat, Bill, but I don't mind if I takesa smell at the pudd'n' when it's dished. ' I proposed a lunch atonce, and we all sat down, and ate soup out of yellow bowls withpewter spoons with such a relish it was fun to see. I had on my oldrig; so poor Parsons thought I was some dressmaker or work-girl, andopened her heart to me as she never would have done if I'd gone anddemanded her confidence, and patronized her, as some people do whenthey want to help. I promised her some work, and proposed that sheshould do it in Mrs. K. 's room, as a favor, mind you, so that theolder girls could go to school and Tot have some one to look afterher. She agreed, and that saved her fire, and made the K. 's allright. Sarah (that's Miss P. ) tried to stiffen up when she learnedwhere I lived; but she wanted the work, and soon found I didn't puton airs, but lent her books, and brought her and Tot my bouquets andfavors after a german, and told her pleasant things as she satcooking her poor chilblainy feet in the oven, as if she never couldget thawed out. 

"This summer the whole batch are to go to Uncle Frank's farm andpick berries, and get strong. He hires dozens of women and childrenduring the fruit season, and Mrs. Grover said it was just what theyall needed. So off they go in June, as merry as grigs, and I shallbe able to look after them now and then, as I always go to the farmin July. That's all, --not a bit interesting, but it came to me, andI did it, though only a small chore. "

"I'm sure the helping of five poor souls is a fine work, and you maywell be proud of it, Ida. Now I know why you wouldn't go to matineeswith me, and buy every pretty thing we saw as you used to. Thepocket money went for coal and food, and your fancy work was littleclothes for these live dolls of yours. You dear thing! how good youwere to cook, and grub, and prick your fingers rough, and give upfun, for this kind work!"

Maggie's hearty kiss, and the faces of her friends, made Ida feelthat her humble task had its worth in their eyes, as well as in herown; and when the others had expressed their interest in her work, all composed themselves to hear what Marion had to tell. 

"I have been taking care of a scarlet runner, --a poor oldfrost-bitten, neglected thing; it is transplanted now, and doingwell, I'm happy to say. "

"What do you mean?" asked Ella, while the rest looked very curious. 

Marion picked up a dropped stitch in the large blue sock she wasknitting, and continued, with a laugh in her eyes: "My dears, thatis what we call the Soldiers' Messenger Corps, with their red capsand busy legs trotting all day. I've had one of them to care for, and a gorgeous time of it, I do assure you. But before I exult overmy success, I must honestly confess my failures, for they were sadones. I was so anxious to begin my work at once, that I did go outand collar the first pauper I saw. It was an old man, who sometimesstands at the corners of streets to sell bunches of ugly paperflowers. You've seen him, I dare say, and his magenta daisies andyellow peonies. Well, he was rather a forlorn object, with his poorold red nose, and bleary eyes, and white hair, standing at the windycorners silently holding out those horrid flowers. I bought all hehad that day, and gave them to some colored children on my way home, and told him to come to our house and get an old coat Mamma waswaiting to get rid of. He told a pitiful story of himself and hisold wife, who made the paper horrors in her bed, and how they neededeverything, but didn't wish to beg. I was much touched, and flewhome to look up the coat and some shoes, and when my old Lear camecreeping in the back way, I ordered cook to give him a warm dinnerand something nice for the old woman. 

"I was called upstairs while he was mumbling his food, and blessingme in the most lovely manner; and he went away much comforted, Iflattered myself. But an hour later, up came the cook in a greatpanic to report that my venerable and pious beggar had carried offseveral of Papa's shirts and pairs of socks out of the clothes-basketin the laundry, and the nice warm hood we keep for the girl to hangout clothes in. 

"I was VERY angry, and, taking Harry with me, went at once to theaddress the old rascal gave me, a dirty court out of Hanover StreetNo such person had ever lived there, and my white-haired saint was ahumbug. Harry laughed at me, and Mamma forbade me to bring any morethieves to the house, and the girls scolded awfully. 

"Well, I recovered from the shock, and, nothing daunted, went off tothe little Irishwoman who sells apples on the Common, --not the fat, tosey one with the stall near West Street, but the dried-up one whosits by the path, nodding over an old basket with six apples andfour sticks of candy in it. No one ever seems to buy anything, butshe sits there and trusts to kind souls dropping a dime now andthen; she looks so feeble and forlorn, 'on the cold, cold ground. '

"She told me another sad tale of being all alone and unable to work, and 'as wake as wather-grewl, without a hap-worth av flesh upon mebones, and for the love of Heaven gimme a thrifle to kape the breathav loife in a poor soul, with a bitter hard winter over me, andniver a chick or child to do a hand's turn. ' I hadn't much faith inher, remembering my other humbug, but I did pity the old mummy; so Igot some tea and sugar, and a shawl, and used to give her my oddpennies as I passed. I never told at home, they made such fun of myefforts to be charitable. I thought I really was getting on prettywell after a time, as my old Biddy seemed quite cheered up, and Iwas planning to give her some coal, when she disappeared all of asudden. I feared she was ill, and asked Mrs. Maloney, the fat woman, about her. 

"'Lord love ye, Miss dear, it's tuk up and sint to the Island fortree months she is; for a drunken ould crayther is Biddy Ryan, andniver a cint but goes for whiskey, --more shame to her, wid a finebye av her own ready to kape her daycint. '

"Then I WAS discouraged, and went home to fold my hands, and seewhat fate would send me, my own efforts being such failures. "

"Poor thing, it WAS hard luck!" said Elizabeth, as they sobered downafter the gale of merriment caused by Marion's mishaps, and herclever imitation of the brogue. 

"Now tell of your success, and the scarlet runner, " added Maggie. 

"Ah! that was SENT, and so I prospered. I must begin ever so farback, in war times, or I can't introduce my hero properly. You knowPapa was in the army, and fought all through the war tillGettysburg, where he was wounded. He was engaged just before hewent; so when his father hurried to him after that awful battle, Mamma went also, and helped nurse him till he could come home. Hewouldn't go to an officer's hospital, but kept with his men in apoor sort of place, for many of his boys were hit, and he wouldn'tleave them. Sergeant Joe Collins was one of the bravest, and losthis right arm saving the flag in one of the hottest struggles ofthat great fight. He had been a Maine lumberman, and was over sixfeet tall, but as gentle as a child, and as jolly as a boy, and veryfond of his colonel. 

"Papa left first, but made Joe promise to let him know how he goton, and Joe did so till he too went home. Then Papa lost sight ofhim, and in the excitement of his own illness, and the end of thewar, and being married, Joe Collins was forgotten, till we childrencame along, and used to love to hear the story of Papa's battles, and how the brave sergeant caught the flag when the bearer was shot, and held it in the rush till one arm was blown off and the otherwounded. We have fighting blood in us, you know, so we were nevertired of that story, though twenty-five years or more make it allas far away to us as the old Revolution, where OUR ancestor waskilled, at OUR Bunker Hill!

"Last December, just after my sad disappointments, Papa came home todinner one day, exclaiming, in great glee: 'I've found old Joe! Amessenger came with a letter to me, and when I looked up to give myanswer, there stood a tall, grizzled fellow, as straight as aramrod, grinning from ear to ear, with his hand to his temple, saluting me in regular style. "Don't you remember Joe Collins, Colonel? Awful glad to see you, sir, " said he. And then it all cameback, and we had a good talk, and I found out that the poor old boywas down on his luck, and almost friendless, but as proud andindependent as ever, and bound to take care of himself while he hada leg to stand on. I've got his address, and mean to keep an eye onhim, for he looks feeble and can't make much, I'm sure. '

"We were all very glad, and Joe came to see us, and Papa sent him onendless errands, and helped him in that way till he went to NewYork. Then, in the fun and flurry of the holidays, we forgot allabout Joe, till Papa came home and missed him from his post. I saidI'd go and find him; so Harry and I rummaged about till we did findhim, in a little house at the North End, laid up with rheumaticfever in a stuffy back room, with no one to look after him but thewasherwoman with whom he boarded. 

"I was SO sorry we had forgotten him! but HE never complained, onlysaid, with his cheerful grin, ' I kinder mistrusted the Colonel wasaway, but I wasn't goin' to pester him. ' He tried to be jolly, though in dreadful pain; called Harry 'Major, ' and was so gratefulfor all we brought him, though he didn't want oranges and tea, andmade us shout when I said, like a goose, thinking that was theproper thing to do, 'Shall I bathe your brow, you are so feverish?'

"'No, thanky, miss, it was swabbed pretty stiddy to the horsepittle, and I reckon a trifle of tobaccer would do more good and be a sightmore relishin', ef you'll excuse my mentionin' it. '

"Harry rushed off and got a great lump and a pipe, and Joe layblissfully puffing, in a cloud of smoke, when we left him, promisingto come again. We did go nearly every day, and had lovely times; forJoe told us his adventures, and we got so interested in the war thatI began to read up evenings, and Papa was pleased, and fought allhis battles over again for us, and Harry and I were great friendsreading together, and Papa was charmed to see the old General'sspirit in us, as we got excited and discussed all our wars in afever of patriotism that made Mamma laugh. Joe said I 'brustled up'at the word BATTLE like a war-horse at the smell of powder, and I'dought to have been a drummer, the sound of martial music made me so'skittish. '

"It was all new and charming to us young ones, but poor old Joe hada hard time, and was very ill. Exposure and fatigue, and scantyfood, and loneliness, and his wounds, were too much for him, and itwas plain his working days were over. He hated the thought of thepoor-house at home, which was all his own town could offer him, andhe had no friends to live with, and he could not get a pension, something being wrong about his papers; so he would have been badlyoff, but for the Soldiers' Home at Chelsea. As soon as he was able, Papa got him in there, and he was glad to go, for that seemed theproper place, and a charity the proudest man might accept, afterrisking his life for his country. 

"There is where I used to be going when you saw me, and I was SOafraid you'd smell the cigars in my basket. The dear old boys alwayswant them, and Papa says they MUST have them, though it isn't halfso romantic as flowers, and jelly, and wine, and the dainty messeswe women always want to carry. I've learned about different kinds oftobacco and cigars, and you'd laugh to see me deal out my gifts, which are received as gratefully as the Victoria Cross, when theQueen decorates HER brave men. I'm quite a great gun over there, andthe boys salute when I come, tell me their woes, and think that Papaand I can run the whole concern. I like it immensely, and am asproud and fond of my dear old wrecks as if I'd been a Rigoletto, andridden on a cannon from my babyhood. That's MY story, but I can'tbegin to tell how interesting it all is, nor how glad I am that itled me to look into the history of American wars, in which brave menof our name did their parts so well. "

A hearty round of applause greeted Marion's tale, for her glowingface and excited voice stirred the patriotic spirit of the Bostongirls, and made them beam approvingly upon her. 

"Now, Maggie, dear, last but not least, I'm sure, " said Anna, withan encouraging glance, for SHE had discovered the secret of thisfriend, and loved her more than ever for it. 

Maggie blushed and hesitated, as she put down the delicate muslincap-strings she was hemming with such care. Then, looking about herwith a face in which both humility and pride contended, she saidwith an effort, "After the other lively experiences, mine will soundvery flat. In fact, I have no story to tell, for MY charity began athome, and stopped there. "

"Tell it, dear. I know it is interesting, and will do us all good, "said Anna, quickly; and, thus supported, Maggie went on. 

"I planned great things, and talked about what I meant to do, tillPapa said one day, when things were in a mess, as they often are atour house, 'If the little girls who want to help the world alongwould remember that charity be gins at home, they would soon findenough to do. '

"I was rather taken aback, and said no more, but after Papa had goneto the office, I began to think, and looked round to see what therewas to be done at that particular moment. I found enough for thatday, and took hold at once; for poor Mamma had one of her badheadaches, the children could not go out because it rained, and sowere howling in the nursery, cook was on a rampage, and Maria hadthe toothache. Well, I began by making Mamma lie down for a goodlong sleep. I kept the children quiet by giving them my ribbon boxand jewelry to dress up with, put a poultice on Maria's face, andoffered to wash the glass and silver for her, to appease cook, whowas as cross as two sticks over extra work washing-day. It wasn'tmuch fun, as you may imagine, but I got through the afternoon, andkept the house still, and at dusk crept into Mamma's room and softlybuilt up the fire, so it should be cheery when she waked. Then Iwent trembling to the kitchen for some tea, and there found threegirls calling, and high jinks going on; for one whisked a plate ofcake into the table drawer, another put a cup under her shawl, andcook hid the teapot, as I stirred round in the china closet beforeopening the slide, through a crack of which I'd seen, heard, andsmelt 'the party, ' as the children call it. 

"I was angry enough to scold the whole set, but I wisely held mytongue, shut my eyes, and politely asked for some hot water, noddedto the guests, and told cook Maria was better, and would do her workif she wanted to go out. 

"So peace reigned, and as I settled the tray, I heard cook say inher balmiest tone, for I suspect the cake and tea lay heavy on herconscience, 'The mistress is very poorly, and Miss takes nice careof her, the dear. '

"All blarney, but it pleased me and made me remember how feeble poorMamma was, and how little I really did. So I wept a repentant weepas I toiled upstairs with my tea and toast, and found Mamma allready for them, and so pleased to find things going well. I saw bythat what a relief it would be to her if I did it oftener, as Iought, and as I resolved that I would. 

"I didn't say anything, but I kept on doing whatever came along, andbefore I knew it ever so many duties slipped out of Mamma's handsinto mine, and seemed to belong to me. I don't mean that I likedthem, and didn't grumble to myself; I did, and felt regularlycrushed and injured sometimes when I wanted to go and have my ownfun. Duty is right, but it isn't easy, and the only comfort about itis a sort of quiet feeling you get after a while, and a strongfeeling, as if you'd found something to hold on to and keep yousteady. I can't express it, but you know?" And Maggie lookedwistfully at the other faces, some of which answered her with aquick flash of sympathy, and some only wore a puzzled yet respectfulexpression, as if they felt they ought to know, but did not. 

"I need not tire you with all my humdrum doings, " continued Maggie. "I made no plans, but just said each day, 'I'll take what comes, and try to be cheerful and contented. ' So I looked after thechildren, and that left Maria more time to sew and help round. I diderrands, and went to market, and saw that Papa had his mealscomfortably when Mamma was not able to come down. I made calls forher, and received visitors, and soon went on as if I were the ladyof the house, not 'a chit of a girl, ' as Cousin Tom used to call me. 

"The best of all were the cosey talks we had in the twilight, Mammaand I, when she was rested, and all the day's worry was over, and wewere waiting for Papa. Now, when he came, I didn't have to go away, for they wanted to ask and tell me things, and consult aboutaffairs, and make me feel that I was really the eldest daughter. Oh, it was just lovely to sit between them and know that they needed me, and loved to have me with them! That made up for the hard anddisagreeable things, and not long ago I got my reward. Mamma isbetter, and I was rejoicing over it, when she said, ' Yes, I reallyam mending now, and hope soon to be able to relieve my good girl. But I want to tell you, dear, that when I was most discouraged mygreatest comfort was, that if I had to leave my poor babies theywould find such a faithful little mother in you. '

"I was SO pleased I wanted to cry, for the children DO love me, andrun to me for everything now, and think the world of Sister, andthey didn't use to care much for me. But that wasn't all. I oughtnot to tell these things, perhaps, but I'm so proud of them I can'thelp it. When I asked Papa privately, if Mamma was REALLY better andin no danger of falling ill again, he said, with his arms round me, and such a tender kiss, --

"'No danger now, for this brave little girl put her shoulder to thewheel so splendidly, that the dear woman got the relief from careshe needed just at the right time, and now she really rests surethat we are not neglected. You couldn't have devoted yourself to abetter charity, or done it more sweetly, my darling. God blessyou!'"

Here Maggie's voice gave out, and she hid her face, with a happysob, that finished her story eloquently. Marion flew to wipe hertears away with the blue sock, and the others gave a sympatheticmurmur, looking much touched; forgotten duties of their own rosebefore them, and sudden resolutions were made to attend to them atonce, seeing how great Maggie's reward had been. 

"I didn't mean to be silly; but I wanted you to know that I hadn'tbeen idle all winter, and that, though I haven't much to tell, I'mquite satisfied with my chore, " she said, looking up with smilesshining through the tears till her face resembled a rose in asun-shower. 

"Many daughters have done well, but thou excellest them all, "answered Anna, with a kiss that completed her satisfaction. 

"Now, as it is after our usual time, and we must break up, "continued the President, producing a basket of flowers from itshiding-place, "I will merely say that I think we have all learned agood deal, and will be able to work better next winter; for I amsure we shall want to try again, it adds so much sweetness to ourown lives to put even a little comfort into the hard lives of thepoor. As a farewell token, I sent for some real Plymouth mayflowers, and here they are, a posy apiece, with my love and many thanks foryour help in carrying out my plan so beautifully. "

So the nosegays were bestowed, the last lively chat enjoyed, newplans suggested, and goodbyes said; then the club separated, eachmember going gayly away with the rosy flowers on her bosom, and init a clearer knowledge of the sad side of life, a fresh desire tosee and help still more, and a sweet satisfaction in the thoughtthat each had done what she could. 

AN IVY SPRAY AND LADIES' SLIPPERS

"IT can't be done! So I may as well give it I up and get a new pair. I long for them, but I'm afraid my nice little plan for Laura willbe spoilt, " said Jessie Delano to herself, as she shook her headover a pair of small, dilapidated slippers almost past mending. While she vainly pricked her fingers over them for the last time, her mind was full of girlish hopes and fears, as well as ofanxieties far too serious for a light-hearted creature of sixteen. 

A year ago the sisters had been the petted daughters of a rich man;but death and misfortune came suddenly, and now they were left toface poverty alone. They had few relations, and had offended therich uncle who offered Jessie a home, because she refused to beseparated from her sister. Poor Laura was an invalid, and no onewanted her; but Jessie would not leave her, so they clung togetherand lived on in the humble rooms where their father died, trying toearn their bread by the only accomplishments they possessed. Laurapainted well, and after many disappointments was beginning to find asale for her dainty designs and delicate flowers. Jessie had anatural gift for dancing; and her former teacher, a kind-heartedFrenchwoman, offered her favorite pupil the post of assistantteacher in her classes for children. 

It cost the girl a struggle to accept a place of this sort and be ahumble teacher, patiently twirling stupid little boys and girlsround and round over the smooth floor where she used to dance sohappily when she was the pride of the class and the queen of theclosing balls. But for Laura's sake she gratefully accepted theoffer, glad to add her mite to their small store, and to feel thatshe could help keep the wolf from the door. They had seemed to hearthe howl of this dreaded phantom more than once during that year, and looked forward to the long hard winter with an anxiety whichneither would confess to the other. Laura feared to fall ill if sheworked too hard, and then what would become of this pretty youngsister who loved her so tenderly and would not be tempted to leaveher? And Jessie could do very little except rebel against their hardfate and make impracticable plans. But each worked bravely, talkedcheerfully, and waited hopefully for some good fortune to befallthem, while doubt and pain and poverty and care made the younghearts so heavy that the poor girls often fell asleep on pillows wetwith secret tears. 

The smaller trials of life beset Jessie at this particular moment, and her bright wits were trying to solve the problem how to spendher treasured five dollars on slippers for herself and paints forLaura. Both were much needed, and she had gone in shabby shoes tosave up money for the little surprise on which she had set herheart; but now dismay fell upon her when the holes refused to becobbled, and the largest of bows would not hide the worn-out toes inspite of ink and blacking lavishly applied. 

"These are the last of my dear French slippers, and I can't affordany more. I hate cheap things! But I shall have to get them; for myboots are shabby, and every one has to look at my feet when I lead. Oh dear, what a horrid thing it is to be poor!" and Jessie surveyedthe shabby little shoes affectionately, as her eyes filled withtears; for the road looked very rough and steep now. When sheremembered how she used to dance through life as happy as abutterfly in a garden full of sunshine and flowers. 

"Now, Jess, no nonsense, no red eyes to tell tales! Go and do yourerrands, and come in as gay as a lark, or Laura will be worried. "And springing up, the girl began to sing instead of sob, as shestirred about her dismal little room, cleaning her old gloves, mending her one white dress, and wishing with a sigh of intenselonging that she could afford some flowers to wear, every ornamenthaving been sold long ago. Then, with a kiss and a smile to herpatient sister, she hurried away to get the necessary slippers andthe much-desired paints, which Laura would not ask for, though herwork waited for want of them. 

Having been reared in luxury, poor little Jessie's tastes were allof the daintiest sort; and her hardest trial, after Laura's feeblehealth, was the daily sacrifice of the many comforts and elegancesto which she had been accustomed. Faded gowns, cleaned gloves, andmended boots cost her many a pang, and the constant temptation ofseeing pretty, useful, and unattainable things was a very hard one. Laura rarely went out, and so was spared this cross; then she wasthree years older, had always been delicate, and lived much in ahappy world of her own. So Jessie bore her trials silently, butsometimes felt very covetous and resentful to see so much pleasure, money, and beauty in the world, and yet have so little of it fall toher lot. 

"I feel as if I could pick a pocket to-day and not mind a bit, if itwere a rich person's. It's a shame, when papa was always sogenerous, that no one remembers us. If ever I'm rich again, I'lljust hunt up all the poor girls I can find, and give them niceshoes, if nothing else, " she thought, as she went along the crowdedstreets, pausing involuntarily at the shop windows to look withlonging eyes at the treasures within. 

Resisting the allurements of French slippers with bows and buckles, she wisely bought a plain, serviceable pair, and trudged away, finding balm for her wounds in the fact that they were very cheap. More balm came when she met a young friend, who joined her as shestood wistfully eying the piles of grapes in a window and longing tobuy some for Laura. 

This warm-hearted schoolmate read the wish before Jessie saw her, and gratified it so adroitly that the girl could accept the prettybasketful sent to her sister without feeling like a spendthrift or abeggar. It comforted her very much, and the world began to lookbrighter after that little touch of kindness, as it always does whengenuine sympathy makes sunshine in shady places. 

At the art store she was told that more of Laura's autumn-flowerswere in demand; and her face was so full of innocent delight andgratitude it quite touched the old man who sold her the paints, andgave her more than her money's worth, remembering his own hard timesand pitying the pretty young girl whose father he had known. 

So Jessie did not have to pretend very hard at being "as gay as alark" when she got home and showed her treasures. Laura was so happyover the unexpected gifts that the dinner of bread and milk andgrapes was quite a picnic; and Jessie found a smile on her face whenshe went to dress for her party. 

It was only a child's party at the house of one of Mademoiselle'spupils, and Jessie was merely invited to help the little peoplethrough their dancing. She did not like to go in this way, as shewas sure to meet familiar faces there, full of the pity, curiosity, or indifference so hard for a girl to bear. But Mademoiselle askedit as a favor, and Jessie was grateful; so she went, expecting nopleasure and certain of much weariness, if not annoyance. 

When she was ready, --and it did not take long to slip on the whitewoollen dress, brush out the curly dark hair, and fold up slippersand gloves, --she stood before her glass looking at herself, quiteconscious that she was very pretty, with her large eyes, bloomingcheeks, and the lofty little air which nothing could change. She wasalso painfully conscious that her dress was neither fresh norbecoming without a bit of ribbon or a knot of flowers to give it thetouch of color it needed. She had an artistic eye, and used todelight in ordering charming costumes for herself in the happy dayswhen all her wishes were granted as if fairies still lived. Shetossed over her very small store of ribbons in vain; everything hadbeen worn till neither beauty nor freshness remained. 

"Oh dear! where CAN I find something to make me look less like anun, --and a very shabby one, too?" she said, longing for the pinkcorals she sold to pay Laura's doctor's bill. 

The sound of a soft tap, tap, tap, startled her, and she ran to openthe door. No one was there but Laura, fast asleep on the sofa. Tap, tap, tap! went the invisible hand; and as the sound seemed to comefrom the window, Jessie glanced that way, thinking her tame dove hadcorne to be fed. Neither hungry dove nor bold sparrow appeared, --onlya spray of Japanese ivy waving in the wind. A very pretty spray itwas, covered with tiny crimson leaves; and it tapped impatiently, asif it answered her question by saying, "Here is a garland for you;come and take it. "

Jessie's quick eye was caught at once by the fine color, and runningto the window she looked out as eagerly as if a new idea had comeinto her head. It was a dull November day, and the prospect ofsheds, ash-barrels, and old brooms was a gloomy one; but the wholeback of the house glowed with the red tendrils of the hardy vinethat clung to and covered the dingy bricks with a royal mantle, asif eager to cheer the eyes and hearts of all who looked. It preacheda little sermon of courage, aspiration, and content to those who hadthe skill to read it, and bade them see how, springing from thescanty soil of that back yard full of the commonest objects, thehumblest work, it set its little creepers in the crannies of thestone, and struggled up to find the sun and air, till it grew strongand beautiful, --making the blank wall green in summer, glorious inautumn, and a refuge in winter, when it welcomed the sparrows to theshelter of its branches where the sun lay warmest. 

Jessie loved this beautiful neighbor, and had enjoyed it all thatsummer, --the first she ever spent in the hot city. She felt thegrace its greenness gave to all it touched, and half unconsciouslyimitated it in trying to be brave and bright, as she also climbed upfrom the dismal place where she seemed shut away from everythinglovely, till she was beginning to discover that the blue sky wasover all, the sun still shone for her, and heaven's fresh air kissedher cheeks as kindly as ever. Many a night she had leaned from thehigh window when Laura was asleep, dreaming innocent dreams, livingover her short past, or trying to look into the future bravely andtrustfully. The little vine had felt warmer drops than rain or dewfall on it when things went badly, had heard whispered prayers whenthe lonely child asked the Father of the fatherless for help andcomfort, had peeped in to see her sleeping peacefully when the hardhour was over, and been the first to greet her with a tap on thewindow-pane as she woke full of new hope in the morning. It seemedto know all her moods and troubles, to be her friend and confidante, and now came with help like a fairy godmother when our Cinderellawanted to be fine for the little ball. 

"Just the thing! Why didn't I think of it? So bright and delicateand becoming? It will last better than flowers; and no one can thinkI'm extravagant, since it costs nothing. "

As she spoke, Jessie was gathering long sprays of the rosy vine, with its glossy leaves so beattifully shaded that it was evidentJack Frost had done his best for it. Going to her glass, shefastened a wreath of the smallest leaves about her head, set acluster of larger ones in her bosom, and then surveyed herself withgirlish pleasure, as well she might; for the effect of the simpledecoration was charming. Quite satisfied now, she tied on her cloudand slipped away without waking Laura, little dreaming what goodfortune the ivy spray was to bring them both. 

She found the children prancing with impatience to begin theirballet, much excited by the music, gaslight, and gay dresses, whichmade it seem like "a truly ball. " All welcomed Jessie, and she soonforgot the cheap slippers, mended gloves, and old dress, as shegayly led her troop through the pretty dance with so much grace andskill that the admiring mammas who lined the walls declared it wasthe sweetest thing they ever saw. 

"Who is that little person?" asked one of the few gentlemen whohovered about the doorways. 

His hostess told Jessie's story in a few words, and was surprised tohear him say in a satisfied tone, --

"I'm glad she is poor. I want her head, and now there is some chanceof getting it. "

"My dear Mr. Vane, what DO you mean?" asked the lady, laughing. 

"I came to study young faces; I want one for a picture, and thatlittle girl with the red leaves is charming. Please present me. "

"No use; you may ask for her hand by-and-by, if you like, but notfor her head. She is very proud, and never would consent to sit as amodel, I'm sure. "

"I think I can manage it, if you will kindly give me a start. "

"Very well. The children are just going down to supper, and MissDelano will rest. You can make your bold proposal now, if you dare. "

A moment later, as she stood watching the little ones troop away, Jessie found herself bowing to the tall gentleman, who begged toknow what he could bring her with as much interest as if she hadbeen the finest lady in the room. Of course she chose ice-cream, andslipped into a corner to rest her tired feet, preferring thedeserted parlor to the noisy dining-room, --not being quite surewhere she belonged now. 

Mr. Vane brought her a salver full of the dainties girls best love, and drawing up a table began to eat and talk in such a simple, comfortable way that Jessie could not feel shy, but was soon quiteat her ease. She knew that he was a famous artist, and longed totell him about poor Laura, who admired his pictures so much andwould have enjoyed every moment of this chance interview. He was nota very young man, nor a handsome one, but he had a genial face, andthe friendly manners which are so charming; and in ten minutesJessie was chatting freely, quite unconscious that the artist wasstudying her in a mirror all the while. They naturally talked of thechildren, and after praising the pretty dance Mr. Vane quietlyadded, --

"I've been trying--to find a face among them for a picture I'mdoing; but the little dears are all too young, and I must lookelsewhere for a model for my wood-nymph. "

"Are models hard to find?" asked Jessie, eating her ice with therelish of a girl who does not often taste it. 

"What I want is very hard to find. I can get plenty of beggar-girls, but this must be a refined face, young and blooming, but with poetryin it; and that does not come without a different training from anymy usual models get. It will be difficult to suit me, for I'm in ahurry and don't know where to look, "--which last sentence was notquite true, for the long glass showed him exactly what he wanted. 

"I help Mademoiselle with her classes, and she has pupils of allages; perhaps you could find some one there. "

Jessie looked so interested that the artist felt that he had begunwell, and ventured a step further as he passed the cake-basket forthe third time. 

"You are very kind; but the trouble there is, that I fear none ofthe young ladies would consent to sit to me if I dared to ask them. I will confide to you that I HAVE seen a head which quite suits me;but I fear I cannot get it. Give me your advice, please. Should youthink this pretty creature would be offended, if I made the requestmost respectfully?"

"No, indeed; I should think she would be proud to help with one ofyour pictures, sir. My sister thinks they are very lovely; and wekept one of them when we had to sell all the rest, " said Jessie, inher eager, frank way. 

"That was a beautiful compliment, and I am proud of it. Please tellher so, with my thanks. Which was it?"

"The woman's head, --the sad, sweet one people call a Madonna. Wecall it Mother, and love it very much, for Laura says it is like ourmother. I never saw her, but my sister remembers the dear face verywell. "

Jessie's eyes dropped, as if tears were near; and Mr. Vane said, ina voice which showed he understood and shared her feeling, --

"I am very glad that anything of mine has been a comfort to you. Ithought of my own mother when I painted that picture years ago; soyou see you read it truly, and gave it the right name. Now, aboutthe other head; you think I may venture to propose the idea to itsowner, do you?"

"Why not, sir? She would be very silly to refuse, I think. "

"Then YOU wouldn't be offended if asked to sit in this way?"

"Oh, no. I've sat for Laura many a time, and she says I make a verygood model. But then, she only paints simple little things that I amfit for. "

"That is just what I want to do. Would you mind asking the younglady for me? She is just behind you. "

Jessie turned with a start, wondering who had come in; but all shesaw was her own curious face in the mirror, and Mr. Vane's smilingone above it. 

"Do you mean me?" she cried, so surprised and pleased and halfashamed that she could only blush and laugh and look prettier thanever. 

"Indeed I do. Mrs. Murray thought the request would annoy you; but Ifancied you would grant it, you wore such a graceful little garland, and seemed so interested in the pictures here. "

"It is only a bit of ivy, but so pretty I wanted to wear it, as Ihad nothing else, " said the girl, glad that her simple ornamentfound favor in such eyes. 

"It is most artistic, and caught my eye at once. I said to myself, 'That is the head I want, and I MUST secure it if possible. ' Can I?"asked Mr. Vane, smiling persuasively as he saw what a frank andartless young person he had to deal with. 

"With pleasure, if Laura doesn't mind. I'll ask her, and if she iswilling I shall be very proud to have even my wreath in a famouspicture, " answered Jessie, so full of innocent delight at being thushonored that it was a pretty sight to see. 

"A thousand thanks! Now I can exult over Mrs. Murray, and get mypalette ready. When can we begin? As your sister is an invalid andcannot come to my studio with you, perhaps you will allow me to makemy sketch at your own house, " said Mr. Vane, as pleased with hissuccess as only a perplexed artist could be. 

"Did Mrs. Murray tell you about us?" asked Jessie quickly, as hersmiles faded away and the proud look came into her face; for she wassure their misfortunes were known, since he spoke of poor Laura'shealth. 

"A little, " began the new friend, with a sympathetic glance. 

"I know models are paid for sitting; did you wish to do it with mebecause I'm poor?" asked Jessie, with an irrepressible frown and aglance at the thrice-cleaned dress and the neatly mended gloves. 

Mr. Vane knew what thorn pricked the sensitive little girl, andanswered in his friendliest tone, --

"I never thought of such a thing. I wanted YOU to help ME, because Iam poor in what artists so much need, --real grace and beauty. Ihoped you would allow me to give your sister a copy of the sketch asa token of my gratitude for four great kindness. "

The frown vanished and the smile returned as the soft answer turnedaway Jessie's wrath and made her hasten to say penitently, --

"I was very rude; but I haven't learned to be humble yet, and oftenforget that I am poor. Please come to us any time. Laura will enjoyseeing you work, and be delighted with anything you give her. Soshall I, though I don't deserve it. "

"I won't punish you by painting the frown that quite frightened mejust now, but do my best to keep the happy face, and so heap coalsof fire on your head. They won't burn any more than the pretty redleaves that brought me this good fortune, " answered the artist, seeing that his peace was made. 

"I'm SO glad I wore them!" and as if trying to make amends for herlittle flash of temper, Jessie told him about the ivy, and how sheloved it, --unconsciously betraying more of her pathetic little storythan she knew, and increasing her hearer's interest in his newmodel. 

The children came back in riotous spirits, and Jessie was called tolead the revels again. But now her heart was as light as her heels;for she had something pleasant to think of, --a hope of help forLaura, and the memory of kind words to make hard duties easier. Mr. Vane soon slipped away, promising to come the next day; and at eighto'clock Jessie ran home to tell her sister the good news, and topress the little wreath which had served her so well. 

With the sanguine spirit of girlhood, she felt sure that somethingdelightful would happen, and built fine castles in the air for hersister, with a small corner for herself, where she could watch Laurabloom into a healthy woman and a great artist. The desire ofJessie's heart was to earn eneugh money to enable them to spend amonth or two at the seashore when summer came, as that was thesurest cure for Laura's weak nerves and muscles. She had cherishedthe wild idea of being a ballet-girl, as dancing was her delight;but every one frowned upon that plan, and her own refined naturetold her that it was not the life for a young girl. Mr. Vane'srequest for her head suggested a splendid hope; and after gettingangry with him for hinting at her being a model, she suddenlydecided to try it, --with the charming inconsistency of her sex. Themore she thought of it, the better she liked the idea, and resolvedto ask her new friend all about it, fondly hoping that much moneycould be made in this way. 

She said nothing to her sister, but while she sat patiently to Mr. Vane when he came next day, she asked many questions; and thoughsomewhat discouraged by his replies, confided to him her hopes andbegged his advice. Being a wise man as well as a good and kindlyone, he saw at once that this life would not be safe for the pretty, impulsive, and tenderly reared girl, left so unprotected in a worldfull of trials and temptations. So he told her it would not do, except so far as she would allow him to make several studies of herhead in various characters and pay for them. 

She consented, and though much disappointed found some consolationin hoarding a part of the handsome sum so earned for the desire ofher heart. 

The artist seemed in no haste to finish his work, and for some weekscame often to the sittings in that quiet room; for it grew more andmore attractive to him, and while he painted the younger sister'schangeful face he studied the beautiful nature of the elder andlearned to love it. But no one guessed that secret for a long time;and Jessie was so busy racking her brain for a way to earn moremoney that she was as blind and deaf to much that went on before heras if she had been a wooden dummy. 

Suddenly, when she least expected it, help came, and in such adelightful way that she long remembered the little episode withgirlish satisfaction. One day as she sat wearily waiting till thedressing-room was cleared of maids and children after thedancing-class was over, a former friend came sauntering up to her, saying In the tone which always nettled Jessie, --

"You poor thing! aren't you tired to death trying to teach thesestupid babies?"

"No; I love to dance, and we had new figures to-day. See! isn't thispretty?" and Jessie, who knew her own skill and loved to display it, twirled away as lightly as if her feet were not aching with twohours of hard work. 

"Lovely! I do wish I ever could learn to keep time and not jerk andbounce. Being plump is a dreadful trial, " sighed Fanny Fletcher, asJessie came back beaming and breathless. 

"Perhaps I can teach you. I think of making this my profession sinceI must do something. Mademoiselle earns heaps of money by it, " shesaid, sitting down to rest, resolved not to be ashamed of her workor to let Fanny pity her, "I wish you COULD teach me, for I know I shall disgrace myself atthe Kirmess. You've heard about it, of course? So sorry you can'ttake a part, for it's going to be great fun and very splendid. I amin the Hungarian dance, and it's one of the hardest; but the dressis lovely, and I would be in it. Mamma is the matron of it; so I hadmy way, though I know the girls don't want me, and the boys make funof me. Just see if this isn't the queerest step you ever beheld!"

Fanny started bravely across the wide smooth floor, with a stamp, aslide, and a twirl which was certainly odd, but might have beenlively and graceful if she had not unfortunately been a very plump, awkward girl, with no more elasticity than a feather-bed. Jessiefound it impossible not to laugh when Fanny ended her display with asprawl upon the floor, and sat rubbing her elbows in an attitude ofdespair. 

"I know that dance! It is the tzardas, and I can show you how itshould be done. Jump up and try it with me!" she said good-naturedly, running to help her friend up, glad to have a partner of her ownsize for once. 

Away they went, but soon stopped; for Fanny could not keep step, andJessie pulled and stamped and hummed in vain. 

"Do it alone; then I can see how it goes, and manage better nexttime, " panted the poor girl, dropping down upon the velvet seatwhich ran round the hall. 

Mademoiselle had come in and watched them for a moment. She saw atonce what was needed, and as Mrs. Fletcher was one of her bestpatrons, she was glad to oblige the oldest daughter; so she went tothe piano and struck up the proper air just as Jessie, with one armon her hip, the other on the shoulder of an invisible partner, wentdown the hall with a martial stamp, a quick slide, and a gracefulturn, in perfect time to the stirring music that made her nervestingle and her feet fly. To and fro, round and round, with allmanner of graceful gestures, intricate steps, and active bounds wentthe happy girl, quite carried away by the music and motion of thepastime she loved so much. 

Fanny clapped her hands with admiration, and Mademoiselle cried, "Bien, tres bien, charmante, ma cherie!" as she paused at last, rosyand smiling, with one hand on her heart and the other at her templewith the salute that closed the dance. 

"I MUST learn it! Do come and give me lessons at our house. I calledfor Maud and must go now. Will you come, Jessie? I'll be glad to payyou if you don't mind. I hate to be laughed at; and I know if someone would just help me alone I should do as well as the rest, forProfessor Ludwig raves at us all. "

Fanny seemed in such a sad strait, and Jessie sympathized soheartily with her, that she could not refuse a request whichflattered her vanity and tempted her with a prospect of someaddition to the "Sister-fund, " as she called her little savings. Soshe graciously consented, and after a few laborious lessonsprospered so well that her grateful pupil proposed to several otherunsuccessful dancers in the set to invite Jessie to the privaterehearsals held in various parlors as the festival drew near. 

Some of these young people knew Jessie Delano, had missed the brightgirl, and gladly welcomed her back when, after much persuasion, sheagreed to go and help them with the difficult figures of thetzardas. Once among them she felt in her element, and trained theawkward squad so well that Professor Ludwig complimented them ontheir improvement at the public rehearsals, and raved no more, tothe great delight of the timid damsels, who lost their wits when thefiery little man shouted and wrung his hands over their mistakes. 

The young gentlemen needed help also, as several of them looked verymuch like galvanized grasshoppers in their efforts to manage longlegs or awkward elbows. Jessie willingly danced with them, andshowed them how to move with grace and spirit, and handle theirpartners less like dolls and more like peasant maidens with whom themartial Hungarians were supposed to be disporting themselves at thefair. Merry meetings were these; and all enjoyed them, as youngpeople do whatever is lively, dramatic, and social. Every one wasfull of the brilliant Kirmess, which was the talk of the city, andto which every one intended to go as actor or spectator. Jessie wassadly tempted to spend three of her cherished dollars for a ticket, and perhaps would have done so if there had been any one to takecare of her. Laura could not go, and Mr. Vane was away; no otherfriend appeared, and no one remembered to invite her, so she bravelyhid her girlish longing, and got all the pleasure out of therehearsals that she could. 

At the last of these, which was a full-dress affair at Fanny'shouse, something happened which not only tried Jessie's tempersorely, but brought her a reward for many small sacrifices. So muchdancing was very hard upon her slippers, the new pair were worn outlong ago, and a second pair were in a dangerous condition; butJessie hoped that they would last that evening, and then she wouldindulge in better ones with what Fanny would pay her. She hated totake it, but her salary at Mademoiselle's was needed at home; allshe could spare from other sources was sacredly kept for Laura'sjaunt, and only now and then did the good little girl buy some verynecessary article for herself. She was learning to be humble, tolove work, and be grateful for her small wages for her sister'ssake; and while she hid her trials, withstood her temptations, andbravely tugged away at her hard tasks, the kind Providence, whoteaches us the sweetness of adversity, was preparing a morebeautiful and helpful surprise than any she could plan or execute. 

That night all were much excited, and great was the energy displayedas the scarlet, blue, and silver couples went through the rapidfigures with unusual spirit and success. The brass-heeled bootsstamped in perfect time, the furred caps waved, and the braidedjackets glittered as the gay troop swung to and fro or marched tothe barbaric music of an impromptu band. Jessie looked on with suchlonging in her eyes that Fanny, who was ill with a bad cold, kindlybegged her to take her place, as motion made her cough, and puttingon the red and silver cap sent her joyfully away to lead them all. 

The fun grew rather fast and furious toward the end, and when thedance broke up there lay in the middle of the floor a shabby littleslipper, burst at the side, trodden down at the heel, and utterlydemoralized as to the bow with a broken buckle in it. Such adisreputable little shoe was it that no one claimed it when one ofthe young men held it up on the point of his sword, exclaiminggayly, --

"Where is Cinderella? Here's her shoe, and it's quite time she had anew pair. Glass evidently doesn't wear well now-a-days. "

They all laughed and looked about to find the shoeless foot. Thegirls with small feet displayed them readily; those less blessed hidthem at once, and no Cinderella appeared to claim the old slipper. Jessie turned as red as her cap, and glanced imploringly at Fanny asshe slipped through a convenient door and flew up-stairs, knowingthat in a moment all would see that it must be hers, since the othergirls wore red boots as a part of their costume. 

Fanny understood; and though awkward and slow with her feet, she waskind-hearted and quick to spare her friend the mortification which apoor and proud girl could not help feeling at such a moment. Theunfortunate slipper was flying from hand to hand as the youthsindulged in a boyish game of ball to tease the laughing girls, whohastened to disclaim all knowledge of "the horrid thing. "

"Please give it to me!" cried Fanny, trying to catch it, and gladJessie was safe. 

"No; Cinderella must come and put it on. Here's the Prince all readyto help her, " said the finder of the shoe, holding it up. 

"And here are lots of proud sisters ready to cut off their toes andheels if they could only get on such a small slipper, " added anotheryoung Mygar, enjoying the fun immensely. 

"Listen, and let me tell you something. It's Jessie Delano's, andshe has run away because she lost it. Don't laugh and make fun ofit, because it was worn out in helping us. You all know what a hardtime she has had, but you don't know how good and brave and patientshe is, trying to help poor Laura and to earn her living. I askedher to teach me, and I shall pay her well for it, because I couldn'thave gone on if she hadn't. If any of you feel as grateful as I do, and as sorry for her, you can show it in any kind way you please, for it must be dreadful to be so poor. "

Fanny had spoken quickly, and at the last Words hid the tremble inher voice with a cough, being rather scared at what she had done onthe impulse of the moment. But it was a true impulse, and thegenerous young hearts were quick to answer it. The old slipper wasrespectfully handed to her with many apologies and various penitentsuggestions. None were adopted just then, however, for Fanny ran offto find Jessie with her things on waiting--for a chance to slip awayunseen. No persuasions would keep her to supper; and at last, withmany thanks, she was allowed to go, while Fanny returned to layplans with her guests as they disturbed their digestions withlobster salad, ice-cream, and strong coffee. 

Feeling more than ever like Cinderella as she hurried out into thewinter night, leaving all the good times behind her, Jessie stoodwaiting for a car on the windy street-corner, with the raggedslippers under her arm, tears of weariness and vexation in her eyes, and a resentful feeling against an unjust fate lying heavy at herheart. The glimpses of her old gay, easy life, which theserehearsals had given her, made the real hardship and loneliness ofher present life all the more irksome, and that night she felt as ifshe could not bear it much longer. She longed with all a girl's loveof gayety to go to the Kirmess, and no one thought to invite her. She could not go alone even if she yielded to temptation and spenther own money. Laura would have to hire a carriage if she venturedto try it; so it was impossible, for six or seven dollars was afortune to the poor girls now. To have been one of the happycreatures who were to take part in it, to dance on the green in adainty costume to the music of a full band, --to see and do and enjoyall the delights of those two enchanting evenings, would have filledJessie's cup to overflowing. But since she might as well cry for themoon she tried to get some comfort out of imagining it all as sherumbled home in a snowstorm, and cried herself to sleep after givingLaura a cheerful account of the rehearsal, omitting the catastrophe. 

The sun shone next morning, hope woke again, and as she dressedJessie sung to keep her heart up, still trusting that some one wouldremember her before the day was over. As she opened her windows thesparrows welcomed her with shrill chirpings, and the sun turned thesnow-covered vine to a glittering network very beautiful to see asit hung like a veil of lace over the dingy wall. Jessie smiled asshe saw it, while taking a long breath of the keen air, feelingcheered and refreshed by these familiar comforters; then with abrave, bright glance up at the clear blue sky she went away to theday's duties, little guessing what pleasant surprises were on theirway to reward her for the little sacrifices which were teaching herstrength, patience, and courage for greater ones by-and-by. 

All the morning she listened eagerly for the bell, but nothing came;and at two o'clock she went away to the dancing-class, saying toherself with a sigh, --

"Every one is so busy, it is no wonder I'm forgotten. I shall hearabout the fun in the papers, and try to be contented with that. "

Though she never felt less like dancing, she was very patient withher little pupils, and when the lesson was over sat resting amoment, with her head still full of the glories of the Kirmess. Suddenly Mademoiselle came to her, and in a few kind words gave herthe first of the pleasant surprises by offering her a larger salary, an older class, and many commendations for her skill andfaithfulness. Of course she gratefully accepted the welcome offer, and hurried home to tell Laura, forgetting her heavy heart, tiredfeet, and disappointed hopes. 

At her own door the second surprise stood waiting for her, in theperson of Mrs. Fletcher's servant with a large box and a note fromMiss Fanny. How she ever got herself and her parcel up the longstairs Jessie never knew, she was in such a frantic hurry to seewhat that vast box could contain. She startled her sister bybursting into the room breathless, flushed, and beaming, with themysterious cry of, --

"Scissors! quick, the scissors!"

Off went cords and papers, up flew the cover, and with a shriek ofrapture Jessie saw the well-known Hungarian costume lying therebefore her. What it all meant she could not guess, till she toreopen the note and read these delightful words:--

DEAR JESS, --My cold is worse, and the doctor won't let me goto-night. Isn't it dreadful? Our dance will be ruined unless youwill take my place. I know you will to oblige us, and have a lovelytime. Every one will be glad, you do it so much better than I can. My dress will fit you, with tucks and reefs here and there; and thehoots won't be much too large, for though I'm fat I have small feet, thank goodness! Mamma will call for you at seven, and bring yousafely home; and you must come early to-morrow and tell me all aboutit. 

In the small box you will find a little token of our gratitude toyou for your kindness in helping us all so much. Yours ever, FAN. 

As soon as Jessie could get her breath and recover from this firstdelightful shock, she opened the dainty parcel carefully tied upwith pink ribbons. It proved to be a crystal slipper, apparentlyfull of rosebuds; but under the flowers lay five-and-twenty shininggold dollars. A little card with these words was tucked in onecorner, as if, with all their devices to make the offering asdelicate and pretty as possible, the givers feared to offend:--

"We return to our dear Princess the glass slipper which she lost atthe ball, full of thanks and good wishes. "

If the kind young persons who sent the fanciful gift could have seenhow it was received, their doubts would soon have been set at rest;for Jessie laughed and cried as she told the story, counted theprecious coins, and filled the pretty shoe with water that the budsmight keep fresh for Laura. Then, while the needles flew and the gaygarments were fitted, the happy voices talked and the sistersrejoiced together over this unexpected pleasure as only loving girlscould do. 

"The sweetest part of all the splendid surprise is that theyremembered me just at the busiest time, and thanked me in such alovely way. I shall keep that glass slipper all my life, if I can, to remind me not to despair; for just when everything seemeddarkest, all this good luck came, " said Jessie, with ecstatic skipsas she clanked the brass heels of her boots and thought of the proudmoment when she would join in the tzardas before all Boston. 

Gentle Laura rejoiced and sympathized heartily, sewed like a busybee, and sent her happy sister away at seven o'clock with hersweetest smile, never letting her suspect what tender hopes andfears were hidden in her own heart, what longing and disappointmentmade her days doubly sad and lonely, or how very poor a consolationall the glories of the Kirmess would be for the loss of a friend whohad grown very near and dear to her. 

No need to tell the raptures of that evening to little Jessie, whoenjoyed every moment, played her part well, and was brought home atmidnight ready to begin all over again, so inexhaustible is youth'sappetite for pleasure. 

To her great surprise, Laura was up and waiting to welcome her, witha face so full of a new and lovely happiness that Jessie guessed atonce some good fortune had come to her also. Yes, Laura'swell-earned reward and beautiful surprise had arrived at last; andshe told it all in a few words as she held out her armsexclaiming, --

"He has come back! He loves me, and I am so happy! Dear littlesister, all your hard times are over now, and you shall have a homeagain. "

So the dreams came true, as they sometimes do even in thiswork-a-day world of ours, when the dreamers strive as well as hope, and earn their rewards. 

Laura had a restful summer at the seaside, with a stronger arm thanJessie's to lean upon, and more magical medicine to help her back tohealth than any mortal doctor could prescribe. Jessie danced againwith a light heart, --for pleasure, not for pay, --and found the newlife all the sweeter for the trials of the old one. In the autumnthere was a quiet wedding, before three very happy people sailedaway to Italy, the artist's heaven on earth. 

"No roses for me, " said Jessie, smiling at herself in the mirror asshe fastened a spray of rosy ivy-leaves in the bosom of her freshwhite gown that October morning. "I'll be true to my old friend; forit helped me in my dark days, and now it shall rejoice with me in mybright ones, and go on teaching me to climb bravely and patientlytoward the light"

PANSIES

They are never alone that are accompanied with noble thoughts. --SIRPHILIP SIDNEY. 

"I'VE finished my book, and now what CAN I do till this tiresomerain is over?" exclaimed Carrie, as she lay back on the couch with ayawn of weariness. 

"Take another and a better book; the house is full of them, and thisis a rare chance for a feast on the best, " answered Alice, lookingover the pile of volumes in her lap, as she sat on the floor beforeone of the tall book-cases that lined the room. 

"Not being a book-worm like you, I can't read forever, and youneedn't sniff at 'Wanda, ' for it's perfectly thrilling!" criedCarrie, regretfully turning the crumpled leaves of the SeasideLibrary copy of that interminable and impossible tale. 

"We should read to improve our minds, and that rubbish is only awaste of time, " began Alice, in a warning tone, as she looked upfrom "Romola, " over which she had been poring with the delight onefeels in meeting an old friend. 

"I don't WISH to improve my mind, thank you: I read for amusement invacation time, and don't want to see any moral works till nextautumn. I get enough of them in school. This isn't 'rubbish'! It'sfull of fine descriptions of scenery--"

"Which you skip by the page, I've seen you do it, " said Eva, thethird young girl in the library, as she shut up the stout book onher knee and began to knit as if this sudden outburst of chatdisturbed her enjoyment of "The Dove in the Eagle's Nest. "

"I do at first, being carried away by my interest in the people, butI almost always go back and read them afterward, " protested Carrie. "You know YOU like to hear about nice clothes, Eva, and Wanda's weresimply gorgeous; white velvet and a rope of pearls is one costume;gray velvet and a silver girdle another; and Idalia was all a'shower of perfumed laces, ' and scarlet and gold satin mask dresses, or primrose silk with violets, so lovely! I do revel in 'em!"

Both girls laughed as Carrie reeled off this list of elegances, withthe relish of a French modiste. 

"Well, I'm poor and can't have as many pretty things as I want, soit IS delightful to read about women who wear white quilted satindressing-gowns and olive velvet trains with Mechlin lace sweepers tothem. Diamonds as large as nuts, and rivers of opals and sapphires, and rubies and pearls, are great fun to read of, if you never evenget a look at real ones. I don't believe the love part does me a bitof harm, for we never see such languid swells in America, nor suchlovely, naughty ladies; and Ouida scolds them all, so of course shedoesn't approve of them, and that's moral, I'm sure. "

But Alice shook her head again, as Carrie paused out of breath, andsaid in her serious way: "That's the harm of it all. False andfoolish things are made interesting, and we read for that, not forany lesson there may be hidden under the velvet and jewels and finewords of your splendid men and women. Now, THIS book is a wonderfulpicture of Florence in old times, and the famous people who reallylived are painted in it, and it has a true and clean moral that wecan all see, and one feels wiser and better for reading it. I dowish you'd leave those trashy things and try something really good. "

"I hate George Eliot, --so awfully wise and preachy and dismal! Ireally couldn't wade through 'Daniel Deronda, ' though 'The Mill onthe Floss' wasn't bad, " answered Carrie, with another yawn, as sherecalled the Jew Mordecai's long speeches, and Daniel's meditations. 

"I know you'd like this, " said Eva, patting her book with an air ofcalm content; for she was a modest, common-sense little body, fullof innocent fancies and the mildest sort of romance. "I love dearMiss Yonge, with her nice, large families, and their trials, andtheir pious ways, and pleasant homes full of brothers and sisters, and good fathers and mothers. I'm never tired of them, and have read'Daisy Chain' nine times at least. "

"I used to like them, and still think them good for young girls, with our own 'Queechy' and 'Wide, Wide World, ' and books of thatkind. Now I'm eighteen I prefer stronger novels, and books by greatmen and women, because these are always talked about by cultivatedpeople, and when I go into society next winter I wish to be able tolisten intelligently, and know what to admire. "

"That's all very well for you, Alice; you were always poking overbooks, and I dare say you will write them some day, or be ablue-stocking. But I've got another year to study and fuss over myeducation, and I'm going to enjoy myself all I can, and leave thewise books till I come out. "

"But, Carrie, there won't be any time to read them; you'll be sobusy with parties, and beaux, and travelling, and such things. IWOULD take Alice's advice and read up a little now; it's so nice toknow useful things, and be able to find help and comfort in goodbooks when trouble comes, as Ellen Montgomery and Fleda did, andEthel, and the other girls in Miss Yonge's stories, " said Eva, earnestly, remembering how much the efforts of those natural littleheroines had helped her in her own struggles tor self-control andthe cheerful bearing of the burden which come to all. 

"I don't want to be a priggish Ellen, or a moral Fleda, and I dodetest bothering about self-improvement all the time. I know Iought, but I'd rather wait another year or two, and enjoy myvanities in peace just a LITTLE longer. " And Carrie tucked Wandaunder the sofa pillow, as if a trifle ashamed of her society, withEva's innocent eyes upon her own, and Alice sadly regarding her overthe rampart of wise books, which kept growing higher as the eagergirl found more and more treasures in this richly stored library. 

A little silence followed, broken only by the patter of the rainwithout, the crackle of the wood fire within, and the scratch of abusy pen from a curtained recess at the end of the long room. In thesudden hush the girls heard it and remembered that they were notalone. 

"She must have heard every word we said!" and Carrie sat up with adismayed face as she spoke in a whisper. 

Eva laughed, but Alice shrugged her shoulders, and said tranquilly, "I don't mind. She wouldn't expect much wisdom from school-girls. "

This was cold comfort to Carrie, who was painfully conscious ofhaving been a particularly silly school-girl just then. So she gavea groan and lay down again, wishing she had not expressed herviews quite so freely, and had kept Wanda for the privacy of her ownroom. 

The three girls were the guests of a delightful old lady, who hadknow their mothers and was fond of renewing her acquaintance withthem through their daughters. She loved young people, and eachsummer invited parties of them to enjoy the delights of herbeautiful country house, where she lived alone now, being thechildless widow of a somewhat celebrated man. She made it verypleasant for her guests, leaving them free to employ a part of theday as they liked, providing the best of company at dinner, gayrevels in the evening, and a large house full of curious andinteresting things to examine at their leisure. 

The rain had spoiled a pleasant plan, and business letters had madeit necessary for Mrs. Warburton to leave the three to their owndevices after lunch. They had read quietly for several hours, andtheir hostess was just finishing her last letter when fragments ofthe conversation reached her ear. She listened with amusement, unconscious that they had forgotten her presence, finding thedifferent views very characteristic, and easily explained by thedifference of the homes out of which the three friends came. 

Alice was the only daughter of a scholarly man and a brilliantwoman; therefore her love of books and desire to cultivate her mindwas very natural, but the danger in her case would be in the neglectof other things equally important, too varied reading, and asuperficial knowledge of many authors rather than a trueappreciation of a few of the best and greatest. Eva was one of manychildren in a happy home, with a busy father, a pious mother, andmany domestic cares, as well as joys, already falling to the dutifulgirl's lot. Her instincts were sweet and unspoiled, and she onlyneeded to be shown where to find new and better helpers for the realtrials of life, when the childish heroines she loved could no longerserve her in the years to come. 

Carrie was one of the ambitious yet commonplace girls who wish toshine, without knowing the difference between the glitter of acandle which attracts moths, and the serene light of a star, or thecheery glow of a fire round which all love to gather. Her mother'saims were not high, and the two pretty daughters knew that shedesired good matches for them, educated them for that end, andexpected them to do their parts when the time came. The elder sisterwas now at a watering-place with her mother, and Carrie hoped that aletter would soon come telling her that Mary was settled. During herstay with Mrs. Warburton she had learned a good deal, and wasunconsciously contrasting the life here with the frivolous one athome, made up of public show and private sacrifice of comfort, dignity, and peace. Here were people who dressed simply, enjoyedconversation, kept up their accomplishments even when old, and wereso busy, lovable, and charming, that poor Carrie often felt vulgar, ignorant, and mortified among them, in spite of their fine breedingand kindliness. The society Mrs. Warburton drew about her was thebest, and old and young, rich and poor, wise and simple, all seemedgenuine, ---glad to give or receive, enjoy and rest, and then go outto their work refreshed by the influences of the place and the sweetold lady who made it what it was. The girls would soon begin lifefor themselves, and it was well that they had this little glimpse ofreally good society before they left the shelter of home to choosefriends, pleasures, and pursuits for themselves, as all young womendo when once launched. 

The sudden silence and then the whispers suggested to the listenerthat she had perhaps heard something not meant for her ears; so shepresently emerged with her letters, and said, as she came smilingtoward the group about the fire, --

"How are you getting through this long, dull afternoon, my dears?Quiet as mice till just now. What woke you up? A battle of thebooks? Alice looks as if she had laid in plenty of ammunition, andyou were preparing to besiege her. "

The girls laughed, and all rose, for Madam Warburton was a statelyold lady, and people involuntarily treated her with great respect, even in this mannerless age. 

"We were only talking about books, " began Carrie, deeply gratefulthat Wanda was safely out of sight. 

"And we couldn't agree, " added Eva, running to ring the bell for theman to take the letters, for she was used to these little offices athome, and loved to wait on Madam. 

"Thanks, my love. Now let us talk a little, if you are tired ofreading, and if you like to let me share the discussion. Comparingtastes in literature is always a pleasure, and I used to enjoytalking over books with my girl friends more than anything else. "

As she spoke, Mrs. Warburton sat down in the chair which Alicerolled up, drew Eva to the cushion at her feet, and nodded to theothers as they settled again, with interested faces, one at thetable where the pile of chosen volumes now lay, the other erect uponthe couch where she had been practising the poses "full of languidgrace, " so much affected by her favorite heroines. 

"Carrie was laughing at me for liking wise books and wanting toimprove my mind. Is it foolish and a waste of time?" asked Alice, eager to convince her friend and secure so powerful an ally. 

"No, my dear, it is a very sensible desire, and I wish more girlshad it. Only don't be greedy, and read too much; cramming andsmattering is as bad as promiscuous novel-reading, or no reading atall. Choose carefully, read intelligently, and digest thoroughlyeach book, and then you make it your own, " answered Mrs. Warburton, quite in her element now, for she loved to give advice, as most oldladies do. 

"But how can we know WHAT to read if we mayn't follow our tastes?"said Carrie, trying to be interested and "intelligent" in spite ofher fear that a "school-marmy" lecture was in store for her. 

"Ask advice, and so cultivate a true and refined taste. I alwaysjudge people's characters a good deal by the books they like, aswell as by the company they keep; so one should be careful, for thisis a pretty good test. Another is, be sure that whatever will notbear reading aloud is not fit to read to one's self. Many younggirls ignorantly or curiously take up books quite worthless, andreally harmful, because under the fine writing and brilliant colorlurks immorality or the false sentiment which gives wrong ideas oflife and things which should be sacred. They think, perhaps, that noone knows this taste of theirs; but they are mistaken, for it showsitself in many ways, and betrays them. Attitudes, looks, carelesswords, and a morbid or foolishly romantic view of certain things, show plainly that the maidenly instincts are blunted, and harm donethat perhaps can never be repaired. "

Mrs. Warburton kept her eyes fixed upon the tall andirons as ifgravely reproving them, which was a great relief to Carrie, whosecheeks glowed as she stirred uneasily and took up a screen as if toguard them from the fire. But conscience pricked her sharply, andmemory, like a traitor, recalled many a passage or scene in herfavorite books which she could not have read aloud even to that oldlady, though she enjoyed them in private. Nothing very bad, butfalse and foolish, poor food for a lively fancy and young mind tofeed on, as the weariness or excitement which always followedplainly proved, since one should feel refreshed, not cloyed, with anintellectual feast. 

Alice, with both elbows on the table, listened with wide-awake eyes, and Eva watched the raindrops trickle clown the pane with an intentexpression, as if asking herself if she had ever done this naughtything. 

"Then there is another fault, " continued Mrs. Warburton, wellknowing that her first shot had hit its mark, and anxious to bejust. "Some book-loving lassies have a mania for trying to readeverything, and dip into works far beyond their powers, or try toomany different kinds of self-improvement at once. So they get amuddle of useless things into their heads, instead of well-assortedideas and real knowledge. They must learn to wait and select; foreach age has its proper class of books, and what is Greek to us ateighteen may be just what we need at thirty. One can get mentaldyspepsia on meat and wine as well as on ice-cream and frosted cake, you know. "

Alice smiled, and pushed away four of the eight books she hadselected, as if afraid she had been greedy, and now felt that it wasbest to wait a little. 

Eva looked up with some anxiety in her frank eyes as she said, "Nowit is my turn. Must I give up my dear homely books, and take toRuskin, Kant, or Plato?"

Mrs. Warburton laughed, as she stroked the pretty brown head at herknee. 

"Not yet, my love, perhaps never, for those are not the masters youneed, I fancy. Since you like stories about every-day people, trysome of the fine biographies of real men and women about whom youshould know something. You will find their lives full of stirring, helpful, and lovely experiences, and in reading of these you willget courage and hope and faith to bear your own trials as they come. True stories suit you, and are the best, for there we get realtragedy and comedy, and the lessons all must learn. "

"Thank you! I will begin at once if you will kindly give me a listof such as would be good for me, " cried Eva, with the sweet docilityof one eager to be all that is lovable and wise in woman. 

"Give us a list, and we will try to improve in the best way. Youknow what we need, and love to help foolish girls, or you wouldn'tbe so kind and patient with us, " said Alice, going to sit besideCarrie, hoping for much discussion of this, to her, very interestingsubject. 

"I will, with pleasure; but I read few modern novels, so I may notbe a good judge there. Most of them seem very poor stuff, and Icannot waste time even to skim them as some people do. I still likethe old-fashioned ones I read as a girl, though you would laugh atthem. Did any of you ever read 'Thaddeus of Warsaw'?"

"I have, and thought it very funny; so were 'Evelina' and 'Cecilia. 'I wanted to try Smollett and Fielding, after reading some fineessays about them, but Papa told me I must wait, " said Alice. 

"Ah, my dears, in my day, Thaddeus was our hero, and we thought thescene where he and Miss Beaufort are in the Park a most thrillingone. Two fops ask Thaddeus where he got his boots, and he replies, with withering dignity, 'Where I got my sword, gentlemen. ' Itreasured the picture of that episode for a long time. Thaddeuswears a hat as full of black plumes as a hearse, Hessian boots withtassels, and leans over Mary, who languishes on the seat in a short-waisted gown, limp scarf, poke bonnet, and large bag, --the height ofelegance then, but very funny now. Then William Wallace in 'ScottishChiefs. ' Bless me! we cried over him as much as you do over your'Heir of Clifton, ' or whatever the boy's name is. You wouldn't getthrough it, I fancy; and as for poor, dear, prosy Richardson, hisletter-writing heroines would bore you to death. Just imagine alover saying to a friend, 'I begged my angel to stay and sip onedish of tea. She sipped one dish and flew. '"

"Now, I'm sure that's sillier than anything the Duchess ever wrotewith her five-o'clock teas and flirtations over plum-cake on lawns, "cried Carrie, as they all laughed at the immortal Lovelace. 

"I never read Richardson, but he couldn't be duller than HenryJames, with his everlasting stories, full of people who talk a greatdeal and amount to nothing. _I_ like the older novels best, andenjoy some of Scott's and Miss Edgeworth's better than Howells's, orany of the modern realistic writers, with their elevators, andpaint-pots, and every-day people, " said Alice, who wasted littletime on light literature. 

"I'm glad to hear you say so, for I have an old-fashioned fancy thatI'd rather read about people as they were, for that is history, oras they might and should be, for that helps us in our own efforts;not as they are, for that we know, and are all sufficientlycommonplace ourselves, to be the better for a nobler and wider viewof life and men than any we are apt to get, so busy are we earningdaily bread, or running after fortune, honor or some other bubble. But I mustn't lecture, or I shall bore you, and forget that I amyour hostess, whose duty it is to amuse. "

As Mrs. Warburton paused, Carrie, anxious to change the subject, said, with her eyes on a curious jewel which the old lady wore, "Ialso like true stories, and you promised to tell us about thatlovely pin some day. This is just the time for it, --please do. "

"With pleasure, for the little romance is quite apropos to ourpresent chat. It is a very simple tale, and rather sad, but it had agreat influence on my life, and this brooch is very dear to me. "

As Mrs. Warburton sat silent a moment, the girls all looked withinterest at the quaint pin which clasped the soft folds of muslinover the black silk dress which was as becoming to the stillhandsome woman as the cap on her white hair and the winter roses inher cheeks. The ornament was in the shape of a pansy; its purpleleaves were of amethyst, the yellow of topaz, and in the middle laya diamond drop of dew. Several letters were delicately cut on itsgolden stem, and a guard pin showed how much its wearer valued it. 

"My sister Lucretia was a good deal older than I, for the three boyscame between, " began Mrs. Warburton, still gazing at the fire, as iffrom its ashes the past rose up bright and warm again. "She was avery lovely and superior girl, and I looked up to her with wonder aswell as adoration. Others did the same, and at eighteen she wasengaged to a charming man, who would have made his mark had helived. She was too young to marry then, and Frank Lyman had a fineopening to practise his profession at the South. So they parted fortwo years, and it was then that he gave her the brooch, saying toher, as she whispered how lonely she should be without him, 'ThisPENSEE is a happy, faithful THOUGHT of me. Wear it, dearest girl, and don't pine while we are separated. Read and study, write much tome, and remember, "They never are alone that are accompanied withnoble thoughts. "'"

"Wasn't that sweet?" cried Eva, pleased with the beginning of thetale. 

"So romantic!" added Carrie, recalling the "amber amulet" one of herpet heroes wore for years, and died kissing, after he had killedsome fifty Arabs in the desert. 

"Did she read and study?" asked Alice, with a soft color in hercheek, and eager eyes, for a budding romance was folded away in thedepths of her maidenly heart, and she liked a love story. 

"I'll tell you what she did, for it was rather remarkable at thatday, when girls had little schooling, and picked up accomplishmentsas they could. The first winter she read and studied at home, andwrote much to Mr. Lyman. I have their letters now, and very fineones they are, though they would seem old-fashioned to you youngthings. Curious love letters, --full of advice, the discussion ofbooks, report of progress, glad praise, modest gratitude, happyplans. And a faithful affection that never wavered, though Lucretiawas beautiful and much admired, and the dear fellow a great favoriteamong the brilliant Southern women. 

"The second spring, Lucretia, anxious to waste no time, andambitious to surprise Lyman decided to go and study with old Dr. Gardener at Portland. He fitted young men for college, was a friendof our father's, and had a daughter who was a very wise andaccomplished woman. That was a very happy summer, and Lu got on sowell that she begged to stay all winter. It was a rare chance, forthere were no colleges for girls then, and very few advantages to behad, and the dear creature burned to improve every faculty, that shemight be more worthy of her lover. She fitted herself for collegewith the youths there, and did wonders; for love sharpened her wits, and the thought of that happy meeting spurred her on to untiringexertion. Lyman was expected in May, and the wedding was to be inJune; but, alas for the poor girl! the yellow-fever came, and he wasone of the first victims. They never met again, and nothing was lefther of all that happy time but his letters, his library, and thepansy. "

Mrs. Warburton paused to wipe a few quiet tears from her eyes, whilethe girls sat in sympathetic silence. 

"We thought it would kill her, that sudden change from love, hope, and happiness to sorrow, death, and solitude. But hearts don'tbreak, my dears, if they know where to go for strength. Lucretiadid, and after the first shock was over found comfort in her books, saying, with a brave, bright look, and the sweetest resignation, 'Imust go on trying to be more worthy of him, for we shall meet againin God's good time and he shall see that I do not forget. '

"That was better than tears and lamentation, and the long years thatfollowed were beautiful and busy ones, full of dutiful care for usat home after our mother died, of interest in all the good works ofher time, and a steady, quiet effort to improve every faculty of herfine mind, till she was felt to be one of the noblest women in ourcity. Her influence was wide-spread; all the intelligent peoplesought her, and when she travelled she was welcome everywhere, forcultivated persons have a free-masonry of their own, and arerecognized at once. "

"Did she ever marry?" asked Carrie, feeling that no life could bequite successful without that great event. 

"Never. She felt herself a widow, and wore black to the day of herdeath. Many men asked her hand, but she refused them all, and wasthe sweetest 'old maid' ever seen, --cheerful and serene to the verylast, for she was ill a long time, and found her solace and staystill in the beloved books. Even when she could no longer read them, her memory supplied her with the mental food that kept her soulstrong while her body failed. It was wonderful to see and hear herrepeating fine lines, heroic sayings, and comforting psalms throughthe weary nights when no sleep would come, making friends andhelpers of the poets, philosophers, and saints whom she knew andloved so well. It made death beautiful, and taught me how victoriousan immortal soul can be over the ills that vex our mortal flesh. 

"She died at dawn on Easter Sunday, after a quiet night, when shehad given me her little legacy of letters, books, and the one jewelshe had always worn, repeating her lover's words to comfort me. Ihad read the Commendatory Prayer, and as I finished she whispered, with a look of perfect peace, 'Shut the book, dear, I need study nomore; I have hoped and believed, now I shall know;' and so wenthappily away to meet her lover after patient waiting. "

The sigh of the wind was the only sound that broke the silence tillthe quiet voice went on again, as if it loved to tell the story, forthe thought of soon seeing the beloved sister took the sadness fromthe memory of the past. 

"I also found my solace in books, for I was very lonely when she wasgone, my father being dead, the brothers married, and home desolate. I took to study and reading as a congenial employment, feeling noinclination to marry, and for many years was quite contented amongmy books. But in trying to follow in dear Lucretia's footsteps, Iunconsciously fitted myself for the great honor and happiness of mylife, and curiously enough I owed it to a book. "

Mrs. Warburton smiled as she took up a shabby little volume from thetable where Alice had laid it, and, quick to divine another romance, Eva said, like a story-loving child, "Do tell about it! The otherwas so sad. "

"This begins merrily, and has a wedding in it, as young girls thinkall tales should. Well, when I was about thirty-five, I was invitedto join a party of friends on a trip to Canada, that being thefavorite jaunt in my young days. I'd been studying hard for someyears, and needed rest, so I was glad to go. As a good book for anexcursion, I took this Wordsworth in my bag. It is full of finepassages, you know, and I loved it, for it was one of the booksgiven to Lucretia by her lover. We had a charming time, and were onour way to Quebec when my little adventure happened. I was inraptures over the grand St. Lawrence as we steamed slowly fromMontreal that lovely summer day. I could not read, but sat on theupper deck, feasting my eyes and dreaming dreams as even staidmaiden ladies will when out on a holiday. Suddenly I caught thesound of voices in earnest discussion on the lower deck, and, glancing down, saw several gentlemen leaning against the rail asthey talked over certain events of great public interest at thatmoment. I knew that a party of distinguished persons were onboard, as my friend's husband, Dr. Tracy, knew some of them, andpointed out Mr. Warburton as one of the rising scientific men of theday. I remembered that my sister had met him years ago, and muchadmired him both for his own gifts and because he had known Lyman. As other people were listening, I felt no delicacy about doing thesame, for the conversation was an eloquent one, and well worthcatching. So interested did I become that I forgot the great raftsfloating by, the picturesque shores, the splendid river, and leanednearer and nearer that no word might be lost, till my book slid outof my lap and fell straight down upon the head of one of thegentlemen, giving him a smart blow, and knocking his hat overboard. "

"Oh, what DID you do?" cried the girls, much amused at thisunromantic catastrophe. 

Mrs. Warburton clasped her hands dramatically, as her eyes twinkledand a pretty color came into her cheeks at the memory of thatexciting moment. 

"My dears, I could have dropped with mortification! What COULD I dobut dodge and peep as I waited to see the end of this most untowardaccident? Fortunately I was alone on that side of the deck, so noneof the ladies saw my mishap and, slipping along the seat to adistant corner, I hid my face behind a convenient newspaper, as Iwatched the little flurry of fishing up the hat by a man in a boatnear by, and the merriment of the gentlemen over this assault ofWilliam Wordsworth upon Samuel Warburton. The poor book passed fromhand to hand, and many jokes were made upon the 'fair Helen' whosename was written on the paper cover which projected it. 

"'I knew a Miss Harper once, --a lovely woman, but her name was notHelen, and she is dead, --God bless her!' I heard Mr. Warburton say, as he flapped his straw hat to dry it, and rubbed his head, whichfortunately was well covered with thick gray hair at that time. 

"I longed to go down and tell him who I was, but I had not thecourage to face all those men. It really was MOST embarrassing; so Iwaited for a more private moment to claim my book, as I knew weshould not land till night, so there was no danger of losing it. 

"'This is rather unusual stuff for a woman to be reading. Someliterary lady doubtless. Better look her up, Warburton. You'll knowher by the color of her stockings when she comes down to lunch, 'said a jolly old gentlenoan, in a tone that made me 'rouge high, ' asEvelina says. 

"'I shall know her by her intelligent face and conversation, if thisbook belongs to a lady. It will be an honor and a pleasure to meet awoman who enjoys Wordsworth, for in my opinion he is one of ourtruest poets, ' answered Mr. Warburton, putting the book in hispocket, with a look and a tone that were most respectful andcomforting to me just then. 

"I hoped he would examine the volume, for Lucretia's and Lyman'snames were on the fly leaf, and that would be a delightfulintroduction for me. So I said nothing and bided my time, feelingrather foolish when we all filed in to lunch, and I saw the otherparty glancing at the ladies at the table. Mr. Warburton's eyepaused a moment as it passed from Mrs. Tracy to me, and I fear Iblushed like a girl, my dears, for Samuel had very fine eyes, and Iremembered the stout gentleman's unseemly joke about the stockings. Mine were white as snow, for I had a neat foot, and was fond of nicehose and well-made shoes. I am so still, as you see. " Here the oldlady displayed a small foot in a black silk stocking and delicateslipper, with the artless pride a woman feels, at any age, in one ofher best points. The girls gratified her by a murmur of admiration, and, decorously readjusting the folds of her gown, she went on withthe most romantic episode of her quiet life. 

"I retired to my state-room after lunch to compose myself, and whenI emerged, in the cool of the afternoon, my first glance showed methat the hour had come, for there on deck was Mr. Warburton, talkingto Mrs. Tracy, with my book in his hand. I hesitated a moment, forin spite of my age I was rather shy, and really it was not an easything to apologize to a strange gentle-man for dropping books onhis head and spoiling his hat. Men think so much of their hats youknow. I was spared embarrassment, however, for he saw me and came tome at once, saying, in the most cordial manner, as he showed thenames on the fly leaf of my Wordsworth, 'I am sure we need no otherintroduction but the names of these two dear friends of ours. I amvery glad to find that Miss Helen Harper is the little girl I sawonce or twice at your father's house some years ago, and to meet herso pleasantly again. '

"That made everything easy and delightful, and when I had apologizedand been laughingly assured that he considered it rather an honorthan otherwise to be assaulted by so great a man, we fell to talkingof old times, and soon forgot that we were strangers. He was twentyyears older than I, but a handsome man, and a most interesting andexcellent one, as we all know. He had lost a young wife long ago, and had lived for science ever since, but it had not made him dry, or cold, or selfish. He was very young at heart for all his wisdom, and enjoyed that holiday like a boy out of school. So did I, andnever dreamed that anything would come of it but a pleasantfriendship founded on our love for those now dead and gone. Dear me!how strangely things turn out in this world of ours, and how thedropping of that book changed my life! Well, that was ourintroduction, and that first long conversation was followed by manymore equally charming, during the three weeks our parties were muchtogether, as both were taking the same trip, and Dr. Tracy was gladto meet his old friend. 

"I need not tell you how delightful such society was to me, nor howsurprised I was when, on the last day before we parted, Mr. Warburton, who had answered many questions of mine during these longchats of ours, asked me a very serious one, and I found that I couldanswer it as he wished. It brought me great honor as well ashappiness. I fear I was not worthy of it, but I tried to be, andfelt a tender satisfaction in thinking that I owed it to dearLucretia, in part at least; for my effort to imitate her made mefitter to become a wise man's wife, and thirty years of very sweetcompanionship was my reward. "

As she spoke, Mrs. Warburton bowed her head before the portrait of avenerable old man which hung above the mantel-piece. 

It was a pretty, old-fashioned expression of wifely pride andwomanly tenderness in the fine old lady, who forgot her own gifts, and felt only humility and gratitude to the man who had found in hera comrade in intellectual pursuits, as well as a helpmeet at homeand a gentle prop for his declining years. 

The girls looked up with eyes full of something softer than merecuriosity, and felt in their young hearts how precious and honorablesuch a memory must be, how true and beautiful such a marriage was, and how sweet wisdom might become when it went hand in hand withlove. 

Alice spoke first, saying, as she touched the worn cover of thelittle book with a new sort of respect, "Thank you very much!Perhaps I ought not to have taken this from the corner shelves inyour sanctum? I wanted to find the rest of the lines Mr. Thorntonquoted last night, and didn't stop to ask leave. "

"You are welcome, my love, for you know how to treat books. Yes, those in that little case are my precious relics. I keep them all, from my childish hymn-book to my great-grandfather's brass-boundBible, for by and by when I sit 'Looking towards Sunset, ' as dearLydia Maria Child calls our last days, I shall lose my interest inother books, and take comfort in these. At the end as at thebeginning of life we are all children again, and love the songs ourmothers sung us, and find the one true Book our best teacher as wedraw near to God. "

As the reverent voice paused, a ray of sunshine broke through theparting clouds, and shone full on the serene old face turned to meetit, with a smile that welcomed the herald of a lovely sunset. 

"The rain is over; there will be just time for a run in the gardenbefore dinner, girls. I must go and change my cap, for literaryladies should not neglect to look well after the ways of theirhousehold and keep themseves tidy, no matter how old they may be. "And with a nod Mrs. Warburton left them, wondering what the effectof the conversation would be on the minds of her young guests. 

Alice went away to the garden, thinking of Lucretia and her lover, as she gathered flowers in the sunshine. Conscientious Eva took theLife of Mary Somerville to her room, and read diligently for half anhour, that no time might be lost in her new course of study, Carriesent Wanda and her finery up the chimney in a lively blaze, and, asshe watched the book burn, decided to take her blue and gold volumeof Tennyson with her on her next trip to Nahant, in case anyeligible learned or literary man's head should offer itself as ashining mark. Since a good marriage was the end of life, why notfollow Mrs. Warburton's example, and make a really excellent one?

When they all met at dinner-time the old lady was pleased to see anosegay of fresh pansies in the bosoms of her three youngest guests, and to hear Alice whisper, with grateful eyes, --

"We wear your flower to show you that we don't mean to forget thelesson you so kindly gave us, and to fortify ourselves with 'noblethoughts, ' as you and she did. "

WATER-LILIES

A PARTY of people, young and old, sat on the piazza of a seasidehotel one summer morning, discussing plans for the day as theywaited for the mail. 

"Hullo! here comes Christie Johnstone, " exclaimed one of the youngmen perched on the railing, who was poisoning the fresh air with thesickly scent of a cigarette. 

"So 'tis, with 'Flucker, the baddish boy, ' in tow, as large aslife, " added another, with a pleasant laugh as he turned to look. 

The new-comers certainly looked somewhat like Charles Reade'spicturesque pair, and every one watched them with idle interest asthey drew nearer. A tall, robust girl of seventeen, with dark eyesand hair, a fine color on her brown cheek, and vigor in everymovement, came up the rocky path from the beach with a basket oflobsters on one arm, of fish on the other, and a wicker tray ofwater-lilies on her head. The scarlet and silver of the fishcontrasted prettily with the dark blue of her rough dress, and thepile of water flowers made a fitting crown for this bonny youngfish-wife. A sturdy lad of twelve came lurching after her in a pairof very large rubber boots, with a dilapidated straw hat on the backof his head and a pail on either arm. 

Straight on went the girl, never turning head or eyes as she passedthe group on the piazza and vanished round the corner, though it wasevident that she heard the laugh the last speech produced, for thecolor deepened in her cheeks and her step quickened. The boy, however, returned the glances bent upon him, and answered the smileswith such a cheerful grin that the youth with the cigarette calledout, --

"Good-morning, Skipper! Where do you hail from?"

"Island, yender, " answered the boy, with a gesture of his thumb overhis shoulder. 

"Oh, you are the lighthouse-keeper, are you?"

"No, I ain't; me and Gramper's fishermen now. "

"Your name is Flucker Johnstone, and your sister's Christie, Ithink?" added the youth, enjoying the amusement of the young ladiesabout him. 

"It's Sammy Bowen, and hern's Ruth. "

"Have you got a Boaz over there for her?"

"No, we've got a devil-fish, a real whacker. "

This unexpected reply produced a roar from the gentlemen, while theboy grinned good-naturedly, though without the least idea what thejoke was. Pretty Miss Ellery, who had been told that she had "arippling laugh, " rippled sweetly as she leaned over the railing toask, "Are those lilies in your pails? I want some if they are for sale. "

"Sister'll fetch 'em round when she's left the lobs. I ain't gotnone; this is bait for them fellers. " And, as if reminded ofbusiness by the yells of several boys who had just caught sight ofhim, Sammy abruptly weighed anchor and ran before the wind towardthe stable. 

"Funny lot, these natives! Act as if they owned the place and are asstupid as their own fish, " said the youth in the white yachtingsuit, as he flung away his cigarette end. 

"Don't agree with you, Fred. I've known people of this sort all mylife and a finer set of honest, hardworking, independent men I nevermet, --brave as lions and tender as women in spite of their roughways, " answered the other young man, who wore blue flannel and had agold band on his cap. 

"Sailors and soldiers always stand by one another; so of course yousee the best side of these fellows, Captain. The girls are finecreatures, I grant you; but their good looks don't last long, more'sthe pity!"

"Few women's would with the life they lead, so full of hard work, suspense, and sorrow. No one knows till one is tried, how muchcourage and faith it takes to keep young and happy when the men oneloves are on the great sea, " said quiet, gray-haired lady, as shelaid her hand on the knee of the young man in blue with a look thatmade him smile affectionately at her, with his own brown hand onhers. 

"Shouldn't wonder if Ben Bowen was laid up, since the girl bringsthe fish. He's a fine old fellow. I've been to No Man's Land many atime blue-fishing with him; must ask after him, " said an elderlygentleman who was pacing to and fro yearning for the morning papers. 

"We might go over to the island and have a chowder-party or afish-fry some moonlight night. I haven't been here for severalyears, but it used to be great fun, and I suppose we can do it now, "suggested Miss Ellery with the laugh. 

"By Jove, we will! And look up Christie; ask her when she comesround, " said Mr. Fred, the youthful dude, untwining his languid legsas if the prospect put a little life into him. 

"Of course we pay for any trouble we give; these people will doanything for money, " began Miss Ellery; but Captain John, as theycalled the sailor, held up his hand with a warning, "Hush! she'scoming, " as Ruth's weather-beaten brown hat turned the corner. 

She paused a moment to drop the empty baskets, shake her skirts, andput up a black braid that had fallen down; then, with the air of oneresolved to do a distasteful task as quickly as possible, she cameup the steps, held out the rough basket cover, and said in a clearvoice, --

"Would any of the ladies like some fresh lilies? Ten cents a bunch. "

A murmur from the ladies expressed their admiration of the beautifulflowers, and the gentlemen pressed forward to buy and present everybunch with gallant haste. Ruth's eyes shone as the money fell intoher hand, and several voices begged her to bring more lilies whilethey lasted. 

"I didn't know the darlings would grow in salt water, " said MissEllery, as she fondly gazed upon the cluster Mr. Fred had justoffered her. 

"They don't. There's a little fresh-water pond on our island, andthey grow there, --only place for miles round;" and Ruth looked atthe delicate girl in ruffled white lawn and a mull hat, with aglance of mingled pity for her ignorance and admiration for herbeauty. 

"How silly of me! I am SUCH a goose;" and Miss Ellery gurgled as shehid her face behind her red parasol. 

"Ask about the fish-fry, " whispered Mr. Fred, putting his headbehind the rosy screen to assure the pretty creature that he didn'tknow any better himself. 

"Oh yes, I will!" and, quite consoled, Miss Ellery called out, "Girl, will you tell me if we can have chower-parties on your rocksas we used to a few seasons ago?"

"If you bring your own fish. Grandpa is sick and can't get 'em foryou. "

"We will provide them, but who will cook them for us? It's suchhorrid work. "

"Any one can fry fish! I will if you want me to;" and Ruth halfsmiled, remembering that this girl who shuddered at the idea of porkand a hot frying-pan, used to eat as heartily as any one when thecrisp brown cunners were served up. 

"Very good; then we'll engage you as cook, and come over to-night ifit's clear and our fishing prospers. Don't forget a dozen of thefinest lilies for this lady to-morrow morning. Pay you now, may notbe up;" and Mr. Fred dropped a bright silver dollar into the basketwith a patronizing air, intended to impress this rather tooindependent young person with a proper sense of inferiority. 

Ruth quietly shook the money out upon the door-mat, and said with asudden sparkle in her black eyes, --

"It's doubtful if I bring any more. Better wait till I do. "

"I'm sorry your grandfather is sick. I'll come over and see himby-and-by, and bring the papers if he would like some, " said theelderly gentleman as he came up with a friendly nod and realinterest in his face. 

"Very much, thank you, sir. He is very feeble now;" and Ruth turnedwith a bright smile to welcome kind Mr. Wallace, who had notforgotten the old man. 

"Christie has got a nice little temper of her own, and don't knowhow to treat a fellow when he wants to do her a favor, " growled Mr. Fred, pocketing his dollar with a disgusted air. 

"She appears to know how to treat a gentleman when HE offers one, "answered Blue Jacket, with a twinkle of the eye as if he enjoyed theother's discomfiture. 

"Girls of that class always put on airs if they are the least bitpretty, --so absurd!" said Miss Ellery, pulling up her long gloves asshe glanced at the brown arms of the fisher maiden. 

"Girls of any class like to be treated with respect. Modesty inlinsey-woolsey is as sweet as in muslin, my dear, and should be evenmore admired, according to my old-fashioned way of thinking, " saidthe gray-haired lady. 

"Hear! hear!" murmured her sailor nephew with an approving nod. 

It was evident that Ruth had heard also, as she turned to go, forwith a quick gesture she pulled three great lilies from her hat andlaid them on the old lady's lap, saying with a grateful look, "Thankyou, ma'am. "

She had seen Miss Scott hand her bunch to a meek little governesswho had been forgotten, and this was all she had to offer in returnfor the kindness which is so sweet to poor girls whose sensitivepride gets often wounded by trifles like these. 

She was going without her baskets when Captain John swung himselfover the railing, and ran after her with them. He touched his cap ashe met her, and was thanked with as bright a smile as that the eldergentleman had received; for his respectful "Miss Bowen" pleased hermuch after the rude "Girl!" and the money tossed to her as if shewere a beggar. When he came back the mail had arrived, and allscattered at once, --Mr. Fred to spend the dollar in more cigarettes, and Captain John to settle carefully in his button-hole thewater-lily Aunt Mary gave him, before both young men went off toplay tennis as if their bread depended on it. 

As it bid fair to be a moonlight night, the party of a dozen youngpeople, with Miss Scott and Mr. Wallace to act as matron and admiralof the fleet, set off to the Island about sunset. Fish in abundancehad been caught, and a picnic supper provided to be eaten on therocks when the proper time arrived. They found Sammy, in a cleanblue shirt and a hat less like a Feejee headpiece, willing to do thehonors of the Island, beaming like a freckled young merman as hepaddled out to pull up the boats. 

"Fire's all ready for kindlin', and Ruth's slicin' the pertaters. Hope them fish is cleaned?" he added with a face of deep anxiety;for that weary task would fall to him if not already done, and thethought desolated his boyish soul. 

"All ready, Sam! Lend a hand with these baskets, and then steer forthe lighthouse; the ladies want to see that first, " answered CaptainJohn, as he tossed a stray cookie into Sammy's mouth with a smilethat caused that youth to cleave to him like a burr all the evening. 

The young people scattered over the rocks, and hastened to visit thepoints of interest before dark. They climbed the lighthouse tower, and paid Aunt Nabby and Grandpa a call at the weather-beaten littlehouse, where the old woman lent them a mammoth coffee-pot, andpromised that Ruth would "dish up them fish in good shape at eightpunctooal. " Then they strolled away to see the fresh-water pondwhere the lilies grew. 

"How curious that such a thing should be here right in the middle ofthe salt sea!" said one of the girls, as they stood looking at thequiet pool while the tide dashed high upon the rocks all about them. 

"Not more curious than how it is possible for anything so beautifuland pure as one of those lilies to grow from the mud at the bottomof the pond. The ugly yellow ones are not so out of place; but noone cares for them, and they smell horridly, " added another girl ina reflective tone. 

"Instinct sends the white lily straight up to the sun and air, andthe strong slender stem anchors it to the rich earth below, out ofwhich it has power to draw the nourishment that makes it so lovelyand keeps it spotless--unless slugs and flies and boys spoil it, "added Miss Scott as she watched Mr, Fred poke and splash with hiscane after a half-closed flower. 

"The naughty things have all shut up and spoilt the pretty sight;I'm so disappointed, " sighed Miss Ellery, surveying the green budswith great disfavor as she had planned to wear some in her hair andact Undine. 

"You must come early in the morning if you want to see them at theirbest. I've read somewhere that when the sun first strikes them theyopen rapidly, and it is a lovely sight. I shall try to see it someday if I can get here in time, " said Miss Scott. 

"How romantic old maids are!" whispered one girl to another. 

"So are young ones; hear what Floss Ellery is saying, " answered theother; and both giggled under their big hats as they caught thesewords followed by the rippling laugh, --

"All flowers open and show their hearts when the sun shines on themat the right moment. "

"I wish human flowers would, " murmured Mr. Fred; and then, as ifrather alarmed at his own remark, he added hastily, "I'll get thatbig lily out there and MAKE it bloom for you. "

Trusting to an old log that lay in the pond, he went to the end andbent to pull in the half-shut flower; but this too ardent sun wasnot to make it blossom, for his foot slipped and down he went up tohis knees in mud and water. 

"Save him! oh, save him!" shrieked Miss Ellery, clutching CaptainJohn, who was laughing like a boy, while the other lads shouted andthe girls added their shrill merriment as poor Fred scrambled to theshore a wreck of the gallant craft that had set sail in spotlesswhite. 

"What the deuce shall I do?" he asked in a tone of despair as theyflocked about him to condole even while they laughed. 

"Roll up your trousers and borrow Sam's boots. The old lady will dryyour shoes and socks while you are at supper, and have them ready towear home, " suggested Captain John, who was used to duckings andmade light of them. 

The word "supper" made one carnal-minded youth sniff the air andannounce that he smelt "something good;" and at once every oneturned toward the picnic ground, like chickens hurrying to the barnat feeding-time. Fred vanished into the cottage, and the restgathered about the great fire of driftwood fast turning to clearcoals, over which Ruth was beginning her long hot task. She wore abig apron, a red handkerchief over her head, had her sleeves rolledup, and was so intent on her work that she merely nodded and smiledas the new-comers greeted her with varying degrees of courtesy. 

"She looks like a handsome gypsy, with her dark face and that redthing in the firelight. I wish I could paint her, " said Miss Scott, who was very young at heart in spite of her fifty years and grayhead. 

"So do I, but we can remember it. I do like to see a girl work witha will, even at frying fish. Most of 'em dawdle so at the few thingsthey try to do. There's a piece of energy for you!" and Captain Johnleaned forward from his rocky seat to watch Ruth, who just thencaught up the coffee-pot about to boil over, and with the other handsaved her frying-pan from capsizing on its unsteady bed of coals. 

"She is a nice girl, and I'm much interested in her. Mr. Wallacesays he will tell us her story by-and-by if we care to hear it. Hehas known the old man a long time. "

"Don't forget to remind him, Aunty. I like a yarn after mess;" andCaptain John went off to bring the first plate of fish to the dearold lady who had been a mother to him for many years. 

It was a merry supper, and the moon was up before it ended; foreverything "tasted so good" the hearty young appetites sharpened bysea air were hard to satisfy. When the last cunner had vanished andnothing but olives and oyster crackers remained, the party settledon a sloping rock out of range of the fire, and reposed for a briefperiod to recover from the exertions of the feast, having, like theheroes in the old story, "eaten mightily for the space of an hour. "

Mr. Fred in the capacious boots was a never-failing source ofamusement, and consequently somewhat subdued. But Miss Elleryconsoled him, and much food sustained him till his shoes were dry. Ruth remained to clear up, and Sammy to gorge himself on theremnants of "sweet cake" which he could not bear to see wasted. So, when some one proposed telling stories till they were ready to sing, Mr. Wallace was begged to begin. 

"It is only something about this island, but you may like to hear itjust now, " said the genial old gentleman, settling his handkerchiefover his bald head for fear of cold, and glancing at the attentiveyoung faces grouped about him in the moonlight. 

"Some twenty years ago there was a wreck over there on those greatrocks; you fellows have heard about it, so I'll only say that a verybrave sailor, a native of the Port here, swam out with a rope andsaved a dozen men and women. I'll call him Sam. Well, one of thewomen was an English governess, and when the lady she was with wenton her way after the wreck, this pretty girl (who by the way was agood deal hurt trying to save the child she had in charge) was leftbehind to recover, and--"

"Marry the brave sailor of course, " cried one of the girls. 

"Exactly! and a very happy pair they were. She had no family whowanted her at home; her father had been a clergyman, I believe, andshe was well born, but Sam was a fine fellow and earned his livinghonestly, fishing off the Banks, as half the men do here. Well, theywere very happy, had two children, and were saving up a bit, whenpoor Sam and two brothers were lost in one of the great storms whichnow and then make widows and orphans by the dozen. It killed thewife; but Sam's father, who kept the lighthouse here then, took thepoor children and supported them for ten years. The boy was a merebaby; the girl a fine creature, brave like her father, handsome likeher mother, and with a good deal of the lady about her, though everyone didn't find it out. "

"Ahem!" cried the sharp girl, who began to understand the point ofthe story now, but would not spoil it, as the others seemed still inthe dark, though Miss Scott was smiling, and Captain John staringhard at the old gentleman in the blue silk nightcap. 

"Got a fly in your throat?" asked a neighbor; but Kate only laughedand begged pardon for interrupting. 

"There's not much more; only that affair was rather romantic, andone can't help wondering how the children turned out. Storms seem tohave been their doom, for in the terrible one we had two wintersago, the old lighthouse keeper had a bad fall on the icy rocks, andif it had not been for the girl, the light would have gone out andmore ships been lost on this dangerous point. The keeper's mate hadgone ashore and couldn't get back for two days, the gale raged sofiercely; but he knew Ben could get on without him, as he had thegirl and boy over for a visit. In winter they lived with a friendand went to school at the Port. It would have been all right if Benhadn't broken his ribs. But he was a stout old salt; so he told thegirl what to do, and she did it, while the boy waited on the sickman. For two days and nights that brave creature lived in the tower, that often rocked as if it would come down, while the sleet and snowdimmed the lantern, and sea-birds were beaten to death against theglass. But the light burned steadily, and people said, 'All iswell, ' as ships steered away in time, when the clear light warnedthem of danger, and grateful sailors blessed the hands that kept itburning faithfully. "

"I hope she got rewarded, " cried an eager voice, as the story-tellerpaused for breath. 

"'I only did my duty; that is reward enough, ' she said, when some ofthe rich men at the Port heard of it and sent her money and thanks. She took the money, however, for Ben had to give up the place, beingtoo lame to do the work. He earns his living by fishing now, andputs away most of his pension for the children. He won't last long, and then they must take care of themselves; for the old woman is norelation, and the girl is too proud to hunt up the forgetful Englishfriends, if they have any. But I don't fear for her; a brave lasslike that will make her own way anywhere. "

"Is that all?" asked several voices, as Mr. Wallace leaned back andfanned himself with his hat. 

"That's all of the first and second parts; the third is yet to come. When I know it, I'll tell you; perhaps next summer, if we meet hereagain. "

"Then you know the girl? What is she doing now?" asked Miss Ellery, who had lost a part of the story as she sat in a shadowy nook withthe pensive Fred. 

"We all know her. She is washing a coffee-pot at this moment, Ibelieve;" and Mr. Wallace pointed to a figure on the beach, energetically shaking a large tin article that shone in themoonlight. 

"Ruth? Really? How romantic and interesting!" exclaimed Miss Ellery, who was just of the age, as were most of the other girls, to enjoytales of this sort and imagine sensational denouements. 

"There is a great deal of untold romance in the lives of thesetoilers of the sea, and I am sure this good girl will find herreward for the care she takes of the old man and the boy. It costsher something, I've discovered, for she wants an education, andcould get it if she left this poor place and lived for herself; butshe won't go, and works hard to get money for Grandpa's comfort, instead of buying the books she longs for. I think, young ladies, that there is real heroism in cheerfully selling lilies and fryingfish for duty's sake when one longs to be studying, and enjoying alittle of the youth that comes but once, " said Mr. Wallace. 

"Oh dear, yes, so nice of her! We might take up a contribution forher when we get home. I'll head the paper with pleasure and give allI can afford, for it must be so horrid to be ignorant at her age. Idare say the poor thing can't even read; just fancy!" and MissEllery clasped her hands with a sigh of pity. 

"Very few girls can read fit to be heard now-a-days, " murmured MissScott. 

"Don't let them affront her with their money; she will fling it intheir faces as she did that donkey's dollar. You see to her in yournice, delicate way, Aunty, and give her a lift if she will let you, "whispered Captain John in the old lady's ear. 

"Don't waste your pity, Miss Florence. Ruth reads a newspaper betterthan any woman I ever knew. I've heard her doing it to the old man, getting through shipping news, money-market, and politics in finestyle. I wouldn't offer her money if I were you, though it is a kindthought. These people have an honest pride in earning things forthemselves, and I respect them for it, " added Mr. Wallace. 

"Dear me! I should as soon think of a sand skipper having pride asone of these fishy folks in this stupid little place, " observed Mr. Fred, moving his legs into the shadow as the creeping moonlightbegan to reveal the hideous boots. 

"Why not? I think they have more to be proud of, these brave, honest, independent people, than many who never earn a cent andswell round on the money their fathers made out of pork, rum, or--any other rather unpleasant or disreputable business, " saidCaptain John, with the twinkle in his eye, as he changed the end ofhis sentence, for the word "pickles" was on his lips when AuntMary's quick touch checked it. Some saucy girl laughed, and Mr. Fredsquirmed, for it was well known that his respectable grandfatherwhom he never mentioned had made his large fortune in apickle-factory. 

"We all rise from the mud in one sense, and all may be handsomeflowers if we choose before we go back, after blooming, to ripen ourseeds at the bottom of the water where we began, " said Miss Scott'srefined voice, sounding softly after the masculine ones. 

"I like that idea! Thank you, Aunt Mary, for giving me such a prettyfancy to add to my love for water-lilies. I shall remember it, andtry to be a lovely one, not a bit ashamed to own that I came fromhonest farmer stock, " exclaimed the thoughtful girl who had learnedto know and love the sweet, wise woman who was so motherly to allgirls. 

"Hear! hear!" cried Captain John, heartily; for he was very proud ofhis own brave name kept clean and bright through a long line ofsailor kin. 

"Now let us sing or we shall have no time, " suggested Miss Ellery, who warbled as well as rippled, and did not wish to lose thisopportunity of singing certain sentimental songs appropriate to thehour. 

So they tuned their pipes and made "music in the air" for an hour, to the great delight of Sammy, who joined in every song, and waseasily persuaded to give sundry nautical melodies in a shrill smallvoice which convulsed his hearers with merriment. 

"Ruth sings awful well, but she won't afore folks, " he said, as hepaused after a roaring ditty. 

"She will for me;" and Mr. Wallace went slowly up to the rock notfar away, where Ruth sat alone listening to the music as she restedafter her long day's work. 

"Such airs!" said Miss Ellery, in a sharp tone; for her "Wind of theSummer Night" had not gone well, owing to a too copious supper. "Posing for Lorelei, " she added, as Ruth began to sing, glad tooblige the kind old gentleman. They expected some queer ballad ordroning hymn, and were surprised when a clear sweet voice gave them"The Three Fishers" and "Mary on the Sands of Dee" with a simplepathos that made real music-lovers thrill with pleasure, and filledseveral pairs of eyes with tears. 

"More, please, more!" called Captain John, as she paused; and as ifencouraged by the hearty applause her one gift excited, she sang onas easily as a bird till her small store was exhausted. 

"I call THAT music, " said Miss Scott, as she wiped her eyes with asigh of satisfaction. "It comes from the heart and goes to theheart, as it should. Now we don't want anything else, and had bettergo home while the spell lasts. "

Most of the party followed her example, and went to thank and saygood-night to Ruth, who felt as rich and happy as a queen with themoney Mr. Wallace had slipped into her pocket, and the pleasurewhich even this short glimpse of a higher, happier life had broughther hungry nature. 

As the boats floated away, leaving her alone on the shore, she senther farewell ringing over the water in the words of the old song, "ALife on the Ocean Wave;" and every one joined in it with a will, especially Mr. Wallace and Captain John; and so the evening picnicended tunefully and pleasantly for all, and was long remembered byseveral. 

After that day many "good times" came to Ruth and Sammy; and evenpoor old Grandpa had his share, finding the last summer of his lifevery smooth sailing as he slowly drifted into port. It seemed quitenatural that Captain John, being a sailor, should like to go andread and "yarn" with the old fisherman; so no one wondered when hefell into the way of rowing over to the Island very often with hispocket full of newspapers, and whiling away the long hours in thelittle house as full of sea smells and salt breezes as a shell onthe shore. 

Miss Scott also took a fancy to go with her nephew; for, being anardent botanist, she discovered that the Island possessed manyplants which she could not find on the rocky point of land where thehotel and cottages stood. The fresh-water pond was her especialdelight, and it became a sort of joke to ask, when she came homebrown and beaming with her treasures in tin boxes, bottles, andbunches, --

"Well, Aunt Mary, have you seen the water-lilies bloom yet?" andshe always answered with that wise smile of hers, --

"Not yet, but I'm biding my time, and am watching a very fine onewith especial interest. When the right moment comes, it will bloomand show its golden heart to me, I hope. "

Ruth never quite knew how it came about, but books seemed to findtheir way to the Island and stay there, to her great delight. Ademand for lilies sprang up, and when their day was overmarsh-rosemary became the rage. Sammy found a market for all theshells and gulls' wings he could furnish, and certain oldcuriosities brought from many voyages were sold for sums which addedmany comforts to the old sailor's last cruise. 

Now the daily row to the Point was a pleasure, not a trial, toRuth, --for Mr. Wallace was always ready with a kind word or gift, the ladies nodded as she passed, and asked how the old Skipper wasto-day; Miss Scott often told her to stop at the cottage for somenew book or a moment's chat on her way to the boat, and Captain Johnhelped Sammy with his fishing so much that the baskets were alwaysfull when they came home. 

All this help and friendliness put a wonderful energy and sweetnessinto Ruth's hard life, and made her work seem light, her patientwaiting for freedom easier to bear cheerfully. She sang as she stoodover her wash-tub, cheered the long nights of watching with theprecious books, and found the few moments of rest that came to herwhen the day's work was done very pleasant, as she sat on her rock, watching the lights from the Point, catching the sound of gay musicas the young people danced, and thinking over the delightful talksshe had with Miss Scott. Perhaps the presence of a blue jacket inGrandpa's little bedroom, the sight of a friendly brown face smilingwhen she came in, and the sonorous murmur of a man's voice readingaloud, added a charm to the girl's humdrum life. She was tooinnocent and frank to deny that she enjoyed these new friends, andwelcomed both with the same eagerness, saw both go with the sameregret, and often wondered how she ever had got on without them. 

But the modest fisher-maiden never dreamed of any warmer feelingthan kindness on the one side and gratitude on the other; and thisunconsciousness was her greatest charm, especially to Captain John, who hated coquettes, and shunned the silly girls who wasted time inidle flirtation when they had far better and wholesomer pastimes toenjoy. The handsome sailor was a favorite, being handy at all sortsof fun, and the oldest of the young men at the Point. He was verycourteous in his hearty way to every woman he met, from thestateliest dowager to the dowdiest waiter-girl, but devoted himselfentirely to Aunt Mary, and seemed to have no eyes for younger fairerfaces. 

"He must have a sweetheart over the sea somewhere, " the damsels saidamong themselves, as they watched him pace the long piazzas alone, or saw him swinging in his hammock with eyes dreamily fixed on theblue bay before him. 

Miss Scott only smiled when curious questions were asked her, andsaid she hoped John would find his mate some time, for he deservedthe best wife in the world, having been a good son and an honest boyfor six-and-twenty years. 

"What is it, Captain, --a steamer?" asked Mr. Fred, as he came by thecottage one August afternoon, with his usual escort of girls, alltalking at once about some very interesting affair. 

"Only a sail-boat; no steamers to-day, " answered Captain John, dropping the glass from his eye with a start. 

"Can you see people on the Island with that thing? We want to knowif Ruth is at home, because if she isn't we can't waste time goingover, " said Miss Ellery, with her sweetest smile. 

"I think not. That boat is Sammy's, and as there is a speck of redaboard, I fancy Miss Ruth is with him. They are coming this way, soyou can hail them if you like, " answered the sailor, with "a speckof red" on his own sunburnt cheek if any one had cared to look. 

"Then we'll wait here if we may. We ordered her to bring us aquantity of bulrushes and flowers for our tableaux to-night, and wewant her to be Rebecca at the well. She is so dark, and with herhair down, and gold bangles and scarlet shawls, I think she would donicely. It takes so long to arrange the 'Lily Maid of Astolat' weMUST have an easy one to come just before that, and the boys arewild to make a camel of themselves, so we planned this. Won't you beJacob or Abraham or whoever the man with the bracelets was?" askedMiss Ellery, as they all settled on the steps in the free-and-easyway which prevailed at the Point. 

"No, thank you, I don't act. Used to dance hornpipes in my youngdays, but gave up that sort of thing some time ago. "

"How unfortunate! Every one acts; it's all the fashion, " began MissEllery, rolling up her blue eyes imploringly. 

"So I see; but I never cared much for theatricals, I like naturalthings better. "

"How unkind you are! I quite depended on you for that, since youwouldn't be a corsair. "

"Fred's the man for such fun. He's going to startle the crowd with aregular Captain Kidd rig, pistols and cutlasses enough for a wholecrew, and a terrific beard. "

"I know Ruth won't do it, Floss, for she looked amazed when I showedher my Undine costume, and told her what I wanted the sea-weed for. 'Why, you won't stand before all those folks dressed that way, willyou?' she said, "as much scandalized as if she'd never seen alow-necked dress and silk stockings before;" and Miss Perry tossedher head with an air of pity for a girl who could be surprised atthe display of a pretty neck and arms and ankles. 

"We'll HIRE her, then; she's a mercenary wretch and will do anythingfor money. I won't be scrambled into my boat in a hurry, and we MUSThave Rebecca because I've borrowed a fine pitcher and promised theboys their camel, " said Miss Ellery, who considered herself thequeen of the place and ruled like one, in virtue of being theprettiest girl there and the richest. 

"She has landed, I think, for the boat is off again to the wharf. Better run down and help her with the bulrushes, Fred, and the restof the stuff you ordered, " suggested Captain John, longing to gohimself but kept by his duty as host, Aunt Mary being asleepupstairs. 

"Too tired. Won't hurt her; she's used to work, and we mustn'tpamper her up, as old ladies say, " answered Mr. Fred, enjoying hisfavorite lounge on the grass. 

"I wouldn't ask her to act, if you'll allow me to say so, " saidCaptain John, in his quiet way. "That sort of thing might unsettleher and make her discontented. She steers that little craft overthere and is happy now; let her shape her own course, and rememberit isn't well to talk to the man at the wheel. "

Miss Perry stared; Miss Ray, the sharp girl, nodded, and Miss Ellerysaid petulantly, --

"As if it mattered what SHE thought or said or did! It's her placeto be useful if we want her, and we needn't worry about spoiling agirl like that. She can't be any prouder or more saucy than she is, and I shall ask her if only to see the airs she will put on. "

As she spoke Ruth came up the sandy path from the beach laden withrushes and weeds, sun-flowers and shells, looking warm and tiredbut more picturesque than ever, in her blue gown and the redhandkerchief she wore since her old hat blew away. Seeing the partyon the cottage steps, she stopped to ask if the things were right, and Miss Ellery at once made her request in a commanding tone whichcaused Ruth to grow very straight and cool and sober all at once, and answer decidedly, --

"I couldn't anyway. "

"Why not?"

"Well, one reason is I don't think it's right to act things out ofthe Bible just to show off and amuse folks. "

"The idea of minding!" and Miss Ellery frowned, adding angrily, "Wewill pay you for it. I find people will do anything for money downhere. "

"We are poor and need it, and this is our best time to make it. I'ddo most anything to earn a little, but not that;" and Ruth looked asproud as the young lady herself. 

"Then we'll say no more if you are too elegant to do what WE don'tmind at all. I'll pay you for this stuff now, as I ordered it, andyou needn't bring me any more. How much do I owe you?" asked theoffended beauty, taking out her purse in a pet. 

"Nothing. I'm gad to oblige the ladies if I can, for they have beenvery kind to me. Perhaps if you knew why I want to earn money, you'dunderstand me better. Grandpa can't last long, and I don't want thetown to bury him. I'm working and saving so he can be burieddecently, as he wants to be, not like a pauper. "

There was something in Ruth's face and voice as she said this, standing there shabby, tired, and heavy-laden, yet honest, dutifuland patient for love's sake, that touched the hearts of those wholooked and listened; but she left no time for any answer, for withthe last word she went on quickly, as if to hide the tears thatdimmed her clear eyes and the quiver of her lips. 

"Floss, how could you!" cried Miss Ray, and ran to take the sheaf ofbulrushes from Ruth's arms, followed by the rest, all ashamed andrepentant now that a word had shown them the hard life going onbeside their idle, care-free ones. 

Captain John longed to follow, but walked into the house, growlingto himself with a grim look, --

"That girl has no more heart than a butterfly, and I'd like to seeher squirm on a pin! Poor Ruth! we'll settle that matter, and buryold Ben like an admiral, hang me if we don't!"

He was so busy talking the affair over with Aunt Mary that he didnot see the girl flit by to wait for her boat on the beach, havingsteadily refused the money offered her, though she accepted theapologies in the kindest spirit. 

The beach at this hour of the day was left to the nurses and maidswho bathed and gossiped while the little people played in the sandor paddled in the sea. Several were splashing about, and one Germangoverness was scolding violently because while she was in thebath-house her charge, a little girl of six, had rashly ventured outin a flat-bottomed tub, as they called the small boats used by thegentlemen to reach the yachts anchored in deep water. 

Ruth saw the child's danger at a glance, for the tide was going out, carrying the frail cockleshell rapidly away, while the child riskedan upset every moment by stretching her arms to the women on theshore and calling them to help her. 

None dared to try, but all stood and wrung their hands, screaminglike sea-gulls, till the girl, throwing off shoes and heavy skirtplunged in, calling cheerily, "Sit still! I'll come and get you, Milly!"

She could swim like a fish, but encumbered with her clothes andweary with an unusually hard day's work, she soon found that she didnot gain as rapidly as she expected upon the receding boat. She didnot lose courage, but a thrill of anxiety shot through her as shefelt her breath grow short, her limbs heavy, and the tide sweep herfarther and farther from the shore. 

"If they would only stop screaming and go for help, I could keep upand push the boat in; but the child will be out presently and thenwe are lost, for I can't get back with her, I'm afraid. "

As these thoughts passed through her mind Ruth was swimming stoutly, and trying by cheerful words to keep the frightened child fromrisking their main chance of safety. A few more strokes and shewould reach the boat, rest a moment, then, clinging to it, push itleisurely to shore. Feeling that the danger was over, she hurried onand was just putting up her hands to seize the frail raft and gether breath when Milly, thinking she was to be taken in her arms, leaned forward. In rushed the water, down went the boat, and outsplashed the screaming child to cling to Ruth with the desperateclutch she dreaded. 

Both went under for a moment, but rose again; and with all her witssharpened by the peril of the moment, Ruth cried, as she keptherself afloat, --

"On my back, quick! quick! Don't touch my arms; hold tight to myhair, and keep still. "

Not realizing all the danger, and full of faith in Ruth's power todo anything, after the feats of diving and floating she had seen herperform, Milly scrambled up as often before, and clung splutteringand gasping to Ruth's strong shoulders. So burdened, and consciousof fast-failing strength, Ruth turned toward the shore, and bentevery power of mind and body to her task. How far away it seemed!how still the women were, --not one even venturing out a little wayto help her, and no man in sight! Her heart seemed to stop beating, her temples throbbed, her breath was checked by the clinging arms, and the child, seemed to grow heavier every moment. 

"I'll do what I can, but, oh, why don't some one come?"

That was the last thought Ruth was conscious of, as she panted andploughed slowly back, with such a set white face and wide eyes fixedon the flag that fluttered from the nearest cottage, that it was nowonder the women grew still as they watched her. One good Catholicnurse fell on her knees to pray; the maids cried, the governessmurmured, "Mein Gott, I am lost if the child go drowned!" and clearand sweet came the sound of Captain John's whistle as he stood onhis piazza waiting to row Ruth home. 

They were nearly in, a few more strokes and she could touch thebottom, when suddenly all grew black before her eyes, andwhispering, "I'll float. Call, Milly, and don't mind me, " Ruthturned over, still holding the child fast, and with nothing but herface out of water, feebly struggled on. 

"Come and get me! She's going down! Oh, come, quick!" called thechild in a tone of such distress that the selfish German bestirredherself at last, and began to wade cautiously in. Seeing help athand, brave little Milly soon let go, and struck out like anenergetic young frog, while Ruth, quite spent, sank quietly down, with a dim sense that her last duty was done and rest had come. 

The shrill cries of the women when they saw the steady white facedisappear and rise no more, reached Captain John's ear, and sent himflying down the path, sure that some one was in danger. 

"Ruth--gone down--out there!" was all he caught, as many voicestried to tell the tale; and waiting for no more, he threw off hatand coat, and dashed into the sea as if ready to search the Atlantictill he found her. 

She was safe in a moment, and pausing only to send one girl flyingfor the doctor, he carried his streaming burden straight home toAunt Mary, who had her between blankets before a soul arrived, andwas rubbing for dear life while John fired up the spirit lamp forhot brandy and water, with hands that trembled as he splashed aboutlike an agitated Newfoundland fresh from a swim. 

Ruth was soon conscious, but too much exhausted to do or sayanything, and lay quietly suffering the discomforts of resuscitationtill she fell asleep. 

"Is Milly safe?" was all she asked, and being assured that the childwas in her mother's arms, and Sammy had gone to tell Grandpa allabout it, she smiled and shut her eyes with a whispered, "Then it'sall right, thank God!"

All that evening Captain John paced the piazza, and warned away theeager callers, who flocked down to ask about the heroine of thehour; for she was more interesting than Undine, the Lily Maid, orany of the pretty creatures attitudinizing behind the red curtainsin the hot hotel parlor. All that night Aunt Mary watched the deepsleep that restored the girl, and now and then crept out to tell hernephew there was nothing to fear for one so strong and healthful. And all night Ruth dreamed strange dreams, some weird and dim, somefull of pain and fear; but as the fever of reaction passed away, lovely visions of a happy place came to her, where faces she lovedwere near, and rest, and all she longed for was hers at last. Soclear and beautiful was this dream that she waked in the early dawnto lie and think of it, with such a look of peace upon her face thatAunt Mary could not but kiss it tenderly when she came in to see ifall was well. 

"How are you, dear? Has this nice long sleep set you up again as Ihoped?"

"Oh yes, I'm quite well, thank you, and I must go home. Grandpa willworry so till he sees me, " answered Ruth, sitting up with her wethair on her shoulders, and a little shiver of pain as she stretchedher tired arms. 

"Not yet, my dear; rest another hour or two and have some breakfast. Then, if you like, John shall take you home before any one comes toplague you with idle questions. I'm not going to say a word, exceptthat I'm proud of my brave girl, and mean to take care of her if shewill let me. "

With that and a motherly embrace, the old lady bustled away to stirup her maid and wakt John from his first nap with the smell ofcoffee. A most unromantic but satisfying perfume to all the wearywatchers in the house. 

An hour later, dressed in Miss Scott's gray wrapper and rose-coloredshawl, Ruth came slowly to the beach leaning on Captain John's arm, while Aunt Mary waved her napkin from the rocks above, and sent kindmessages after them as they pushed off. 

It was the loveliest hour of all the day. The sun had not yet risen, but sea and sky were rosy with the flush of dawn; the small wavesrippled up the sand, the wind blew fresh and fragrant from hayfieldsfar away, and in the grove the birds were singing, as they only singat peep of day. A still, soft, happy time before the work and worryof the world began, the peaceful moment which is so precious tothose who have learned to love its balm and consecrate its beautywith their prayers. 

Ruth sat silent, looking about her as if she saw a new heaven andearth, and had no words in which to tell the feeling that made hereyes so soft, sent the fresh color back into her cheeks, and touchedher lips with something sweeter than a smile. 

Captain John rowed very slowly, watching her with a new expressionin his face; and when she drew a long breath, a happy sort of sigh, he leaned forward to ask, as if he knew what brought it, --

"You are glad to be alive, Ruth?"

"Oh, so glad! I didn't want to die; life's very pleasant now, " sheanswered, with her frank eyes meeting his so gratefully. 

"Even though it's hard?"

"It's easier lately; you and dear Miss Mary have helped so much, Isee my way clear, and mean to go right on, real brave and cheerful, sure I'll get my wish at last. "

"So do I!" and Captain John laughed a queer, happy laugh, as he bentto his oars again, with the look of a man who knew where he wasgoing and longed to get there as soon as possible. 

"I hope you will. I wish I could help anyway to pay for all you'vedone for me. I know you don't want to be thanked for fishing me up, but I mean to do it all the same, if I can, some time;" and Ruth'svoice was full of tender energy as she looked down into the deepgreen water where her life would have ended but for him. 

"What did you think of when you went down so quietly? Those womensaid you never called for help once. "

"I had no breath to call. I knew you were near, I hoped you'd come, and I thought of poor Grandpa and Sammy as I gave up and seemed togo to sleep. "

A very simple answer, but it made Captain John beam with delight;and the morning red seemed to glow all over his brown face as herowed across the quiet bay, looking at Ruth sitting opposite, sochanged by the soft becoming colors of her dress, the late danger, and the dreams that still lingered in her mind, making it hard tofeel that she was the same girl who went that way only a day ago. 

Presently the Captain spoke again in a tone that was both eager andanxious, --

"I'm glad my idle summer hasn't been quite wasted. It's over now, and I'm off in a few days for a year's cruise, you know. "

"Yes, Miss Mary told me you were going soon. I'll miss you both, butmaybe you'll come next year?"

"I will, please God!"

"So will I; for even if I get away this fall, I'd love to come againin summer and rest a little while, no matter what I find to do. "

"Come and stay with Aunt Mary if this home is gone. I shall wantSammy next time. I've settled that with the Skipper, you know, andI'll take good care of the little chap. He's not much younger than Iwas when I shipped for my first voyage. You'll let him go?"

"Anywhere with you. He's set his heart on being a sailor, andGrandpa likes it. All our men are, and I'd be one if I were a boy. Ilove the sea so, I couldn't be happy long away from it. "

"Even though it nearly drowned you?"

"Yes, I'd rather die that way than any other. But it was my fault; Ishouldn't have failed if I hadn't been so tired. I've often swumfarther; but I'd been three hours in the marsh getting those thingsfor the girls, and it was washing-day, and I'd been up nearly allnight with Grandpa; so don't blame the sea, please, Captain John. "

"You should have called me; I was waiting for you, Ruth. "

"I didn't know it. I'm used to doing things myself. It might havebeen too late for Milly if I'd waited. "

"Thank God, I wasn't too late for you. "

The boat was at the shore now; and as he spoke Captain John held outhis hands to help Ruth down, for, encumbered with her long dress, and still weak from past suffering, she could not spring to land asshe used to do in her short gown. For the first time the colordeepened in her cheek as she looked into the face before her andread the meaning of the eyes that found her beautiful and dear, andthe lips that thanked God for her salvation so fervently. 

She did not speak, but let him lift her down, draw her hand throughhis arm, and lead her up the rocky slope to the little pool that laywaiting for the sun's first rays to wake from its sleep. He pausedthere, and with his hand on hers said quietly, --

"Ruth, before I go I want to tell you something, and this is a goodtime and place. While Aunt Mary watched the flowers, I've watchedyou, and found the girl I've always wanted for my wife. Modest andbrave, dutiful and true, that's what I love; could you give me allthis, dear, for the little I can offer, and next year sail withSammy and a very happy man if you say yes?"

"I'm not half good and wise enough for that! Remember what I am, "began Ruth, bending her head as if the thought were more than shecould bear. 

"I do remember, and I'm proud of it! Why, dear heart, I've worked myway up from a common sailor, and am the better for it. Now I've gotmy ship, and I want a mate to make a home for me aboard and ashore. Look up and tell me that I didn't read those true eyes wrong. "

Then Ruth lifted up her face, and the sunshine showed him all heasked to know, as she answered with her heart in her voice and the"true eyes" fixed on his, --

"I tried not to love you, knowing what a poor ignorant girl I am;but you were so kind to me, how could I help it, John?"

That satisfied him, and he sealed his happy thanks on the innocentlips none had kissed but the little brother, the old man, and thefresh winds of the sea. 

One can imagine the welcome they met at the small brown house, andwhat went on inside as Grandpa blessed the lovers, and Sammy sooverflowed with joy at his enchanting prospects, that he was obligedto vent his feelings in ecstatic jigs upon the beach, to the greatamazement of the gulls and sandpipers at breakfast there. 

No one at the Point, except a certain dear old lady, knew thepleasant secret, though many curious or friendly visitors went tothe Island that day to see the heroine and express their wonder, thanks, and admiration. All agreed that partial drowning seemed tosuit the girl, for a new Ruth had risen like Venus from the sea. Asofter beauty was in her fresh face now, a gentler sort of pridepossessed her, and a still more modest shrinking from praise andpublicity became her well. No one guessed the cause, and she wassoon forgotten; for the season was over, the summer guests departed, and the Point was left to the few cottagers who loved to linger intogolden September. 

Miss Mary was one of these, and Captain John another; for heremained as long as he dared, to make things comfortable for the oldman, and to sit among the rocks with Ruth when her day's work wasdone, listening while his "Mermaid, " as he called her, sang as shehad never sung before, and let him read the heart he had made hisown, for the lily was wide open now, and its gold all his. 

With the first frosts Grandpa died, and was carried to his grave byhis old comrades, owing no man a cent, thanks to his dutifulgranddaughter and the new son she had given him. Then the littlehouse was deserted, and all winter Ruth was happy with Aunt Mary, while Sammy studied bravely, and lived on dreams of the joys instore for him when the Captain came sailing home again. 

Another summer brought the happy day when the little brown house wasset in order for a sailor's honeymoon, when the flag floated gaylyover Miss Mary's cottage, and Ruth in a white gown with her chosenflowers in her hair and bosom, shipped with her dear Captain for thelong cruise which had its storms and calms, but never any shipwreckof the love that grew and blossomed with the water-lilies by thesea. 

POPPIES AND WHEAT

AS the great steamer swung round into the stream the cloud of whitehandkerchiefs waving on the wharf melted away, the last good-byesgrew fainter, and those who went and those who stayed felt that theparting was over, --

"It may be for years, and it may be forever, "

as the song says. 

With only one of the many groups on the deck need we concernourselves, and a few words will introduce our fellow-travellers. Abrisk middle-aged lady leaned on the arm of a middle-aged gentlemanin spectacles, both wearing the calmly cheerful air of people usedto such scenes, and conscious only of the relief change of placebrings to active minds and busy lives. 

Before them stood two girls, evidently their charges, and asevidently not sisters, for in all respects they were a greatcontrast. The younger was a gay creature of seventeen, in aneffective costume of navy-blue and white, with bright hair blowingin the wind, sparkling eyes roving everywhere, lively tongue going, and an air of girlish excitement pleasant to see. Both hands werefull of farewell bouquets, which she surveyed with more pride thantenderness as she glanced at another group of girls less blessedwith floral offerings. 

Her companion was a small, quiet person, some years older thanherself, very simply dressed, laden with wraps, and apparentlyconscious just then of nothing but three dark specks on the wharf, as she still waved her little white flag, and looked shoreward witheyes too dim for seeing. A sweet, modest face it was, withintelligent eyes, a firm mouth, and the look of one who had earlylearned self-reliance and self-control. 

The lady and gentleman watched the pair with interest and amusement;for both liked young people, and were anxious to know these twobetter, since they were to be their guides and guardians for sixmonths. Professor Homer was going abroad to look up certainimportant facts for his great historical work, and as usual took hiswife with him; for they had no family, and the good lady was readyto march to any quarter of the globe at short notice. Fearing to belonely while her husband pored over old papers in foreign libraries, Mrs. Homer had invited Ethel Amory, a friend's daughter, toaccompany her. Of course the invitation was gladly accepted, for itwas a rare opportunity to travel in such company, and Ethel was wildwith delight at the idea. One thorn, however, vexed her, amongthe roses with which her way seemed strewn. Mamma would not let hertake a French maid, but preferred a young lady as companion; for, three being an awkward number, a fourth party would be not onlyconvenient, but necessary on the girl's account, since she was notused to take care of herself and Mrs. Homer could only be expectedto act as chaperone. 

"Jane Bassett is just the person I want, and Jane shall go. Sheneeds a change after teaching all these years; it will do her aworld of good, for she will improve and enjoy every moment, and thesalary I shall offer her will make it worth her while, " said Mrs. Amory, as she discussed the plan with her daughter. 

"She is only three years older than I am, and I hate to be takencare of, and watched, and fussed over. I can order a maid round, buta companion is worse than a governess; such people are alwayssensitive and proud, and hard to get on with. Every one takes amaid, and I'd set my heart on that nice Marie who wants to go home, and talks such lovely French. Do let me have her, Mamma!" beggedEthel, who was a spoiled child and usually got her own way. 

But for once Mamma stood firm, having a strong desire to benefit herdaughter by the society of better companions than the gay girls ofher own set, also to give a great pleasure to good little JaneBassett, who had been governessing ever since she was sixteen, withvery few vacations in her hard, dutiful life. 

"No, darling, I have asked Jane, and if her mother can spare her, Jane it shall be. She is just what you need, --sensible and kind, intelligent and capable; not ashamed to do anything for you, andable to teach you a great deal in a pleasant way. Mrs. Homerapproves of her, and I am sure you will be glad by-and-by; fortravelling is not all 'fun, ' as you expect, and I don't want you tobe a burden on our friends. You two young things can take care ofeach other while the Professor and his wife are busy with their ownaffairs; and Jane is a far better companion for you than thatcoquettish French woman, who will probably leave you in the lurch assoon as you reach Paris. I shouldn't have a moment's peace if youwere left with her, but I have entire confidence in Jane Bassettbecause she is faithful, discreet, and a true lady in all things. "

There was no more to be said, and Ethel pouted in vain. Janeaccepted the place with joy; and after a month of delightful hurrythey were off, one all eagerness for the new world, the other fullof tender regret for the dear souls left behind. How they got on, and what they learned, remains to be told. 

"Come, Miss Bassett, we can't see them any longer, so we may as wellbegin to enjoy ourselves. You might take those things down below, and settle the stateroom a bit; I'm going to walk about and get mybearings before lunch. You will find me somewhere round. "

Ethel spoke with a little tone of command, having made up her mindto be mistress and keep Jane Bassett in her place, though she didknow three languages and sketched much better than Miss Amory. 

Jenny, as we who are going to be her bosom friends will call her, nodded cheerfully, and looked about for the stairway; for, neverhaving been on a steamer before, she was rather bewildered. 

"I'll show you the way, my dear. I always get my things settled atonce, as one never knows when one may have to turn in. The Professorwill go with you, Ethel; it is not proper for you to roam aboutalone;" and with that hint Mrs. Homer led the way below, privatelywondering how these young persons were going to get on together. 

Jane swallowed her "heimweh" in silence, and bestirred herself sowell that soon the stateroom looked very cosy with the wrappers laidready, the hanging bags tacked up, and all made ship-shape for theten days' trip. 

"But where are YOUR comforts? You have given Ethel all the room, thelower berth, and the best of everything, " said Mrs. Homer, poppingin her head to see how her quiet neighbor got on. 

"Oh, I live in my trunk; I didn't bring half as many little luxuriesas Ethel did, so I don't need as much room. I'm used to living incorners like a mouse, and I get on very well, " answered Jane, looking very like a mouse just then, as she peeped out of the upperberth, with her gray gown, bright eyes, and quick nod ofcontentment. 

"Well, my dear, I've just one word of advice to give you. Don't letthat child tyrannize over you. She means well, but is wilful andthoughtless, and it is NOT your duty to be made a slave of. Assertyourself and she will obey and respect you, and you will help her agreat deal. I know all about it; I was a companion in my youth, andhad a hard time of it till I revolted and took my proper place. Nowlet us go up and enjoy the fine air while we can. "

"Thank you, I will remember;" and Jane offered the good lady herarm, with a feeling of gratitude for such friendliness, all beingnew and strange to her, and many doubts of her own fitness for theposition lying heavy at her heart. 

But soon all was forgotten as she sat on deck watching the islands, lighthouses, ships, and shores glide by as she went swiftly out tosea that bright June day. Here was the long-cherished desire of herlife come to pass at last, and now the parting with mother andsisters was over, nothing but pleasure remained, and a very earnestpurpose to improve this unexpected opportunity to the uttermost. The cares of life had begun early for little Jane, she being theeldest of the three girls, and her mother a widow. First came hardstudy, then a timid beginning as nursery governess; and as year byyear the teaching of others taught her, she ventured on till hereshe was companion to a fine young lady "going abroad, " where everyfacility for acquiring languages, studying history, seeing the bestpictures, and enjoying good society would all be hers. No wonder thequiet face under the modest gray hat beamed, as it turned wistfullytoward the unknown world before her, and that her thoughts were sofar away, she was quite unconscious of the kind eyes watching her, as Mrs. Homer sat placidly knitting beside her. 

"I shall like the Mouse, I'm quite sure. Hope Lemuel will be as wellsatisfied. Ethel is charming when she chooses, but will need lookingafter, that's plain, " thought the lady as she glanced down the deckto where her husband stood talking with several gentlemen, while hischarge was already making friends with the gay girls who were to beher fellow-passengers. 

"Daisy Millers, I fear, " went on Mrs. Homer, who had a keen eye forcharacter, and was as fond of studying the people about her as theProfessor was of looking up dead statesmen, kings, and warriors. Theyoung ladies certainly bore some resemblance to the type of Americangirl which one never fails to meet in travelling. They were dressedin the height of the fashion, pretty with the delicate evanescentbeauty of too many of our girls, and all gifted with the loudvoices, shrill laughter, and free-and-easy manners which so astonishdecorous English matrons and maids. Ethel was evidently impressedwith their style, as they had a man and maid at their beck and call, and every sign of ostentatious wealth about them. A stout papa, athin mamma, evidently worn out with the cares of the past winter, three half-grown girls, and a lad of sixteen made up the party; anda very lively one it was, as the Professor soon found, for hepresently bowed himself away, and left Ethel to her new friends, since she smilingly refused to leave them. 

"Ought I to go to her?" asked Jenny, waking from her happy reverieto a sudden sense of duty as the gentleman sat down beside her. 

"Oh dear, no, she is all right. Those are the Sibleys of New York. Her father knows them, and she will find them a congenial refugewhen she tires of us quiet folk; and you too, perhaps?" added theProfessor as he glanced at the girl. 

"I think not. I should not be welcome to them, nor are they the sortof people I like. I shall be very happy with the 'quiet folk, ' ifthey won't let me be in the way, " answered Jenny, in the cheerfulvoice that reminded one of the chirp of a robin. 

"We won't; we'll toss you overboard as soon as you begin to screamand bounce in that style, " he answered, laughing at the idea of thisdemure young person's ever dreaming of such a thing. Jenny laughedalso, and ran to pick up Mrs. Homer's ball, as it set out for a rollinto the lee-scuppers. As she brought it back she found theProfessor examining the book she left behind her. 

"Like all young travellers you cling to your 'Baedeker, ' I see, evenin the first excitement of the start. He is a useful fellow, but Iknow my Europe so well now, I don't need him. "

"I thought it would be wise to read up our route a little, then Ineedn't ask questions. They must be very tiresome to people who knowall about it, " said Jenny, regarding him with an expression of deeprespect for she considered him a sort of walking encyclopaedia ofuniversal knowledge. 

It pleased the learned man, who was kindly as well as wise, andloved to let his knowledge overflow into any thirsty mind, howeversmall the cup might be. He liked the intelligent face before him, and a timid question or two set him off on his favorite hobby at apleasant amble, with Jenny on the pillion behind, as it were. Sheenjoyed it immensely, and was deep in French history, when the lunchgong recalled her from Francis I. And his sister Margaret to chopsand English ale. 

Ethel came prancing back to her own party, full of praises of theSibleys, and the fun they meant to have together. 

"They are going to the Langham; so we shall be able to go about withthem, and they know all the best shops, and some lords and ladies, and expect to be in Paris when we are, and that will be a great helpwith our dresses and things. "

"But we are not going to shop and have new dresses till we are onour way home, you know. Now we haven't time for such things, andcan't trouble the Homers with more trunks, " answered Jenny, as theyfollowed their elders to the table. 

"I shall buy what I like, and have ten trunks if it suits me. I'mnot going to poke round over old books and ruins, and live in atravelling-dress all the time. You can do as you like; it'sdifferent with me, and _I_ know what is proper. "

With which naughty speech Ethel took her seat first at the table, and began to nod and smile at the Sibleys opposite. Jenny set herlips and made no answer, but ate her lunch with what appetite shecould, trying to forget her troubles in listening to the chat goingon around her. 

All that afternoon Ethel left her to herself, and enjoyed the morecongenial society of the new acquaintances. Jenny was tired, andglad to read and dream in the comfortable seat Mrs. Homer left herwhen she went for her nap. 

By sunset the sea grew rough and people began to vanish below. Therewere many empty places at dinner-time, and those who appeared seemedto have lost their appetites suddenly. The Homers were, goodsailors, but Jenny looked pale, and Ethel said her head ached, though both kept up bravely till nine o'clock, when the Sibleysprecipitately retired after supper, and Ethel thought she might aswell go to bed early to be ready for another pleasant day to-morrow. 

Jenny had a bad night, but disturbed no one. Ethel slept soundly, and sprang up in the morning, eager to be the first on deck. But asudden lurch sent her and her hair-brush into a corner: and when sherose, everything in the stateroom seemed to be turning somersaults, while a deathly faintness crept over her. 

"Oh, wake up, Jane! We are sinking! What is it? Help me, help me!"and with a dismal wail Ethel tumbled into her berth in the firstanguish of seasickness. 

We will draw the curtain for three days, during which rough weatherand general despair reigned. Mrs. Homer took care of the girls tillJenny was able to sit up and amuse Ethel; but the latter had a hardtime of it, for a series of farewell lunches had left her in a badstate for a sea-voyage, and the poor girl could not lift her headfor days. The new-made friends did not trouble themselves about herafter a call of condolence, but faithful Jenny sat by her hour afterhour, reading and talking by day, singing her to sleep at night, andoften creeping from her bed on the sofa to light her little candleand see that her charge was warmly covered and quite comfortable. Ethel was used to being petted, so she was not very grateful; butshe felt the watchful care about her, and thought Jane almost ashandy a person as a maid, and told her so. 

Jenny thanked her and said nothing of her own discomforts; but Mrs. Homer saw them, and wrote to Mrs. Amory that so far the companionwas doing admirably and all that could be desired. A few days latershe added more commendations to the journal-letters she kept for theanxious mothers at home, and this serio-comical event was the causeof her fresh praises. 

The occupants of the deck staterooms were wakened in the middle ofthe night by a crash and a cry, and starting up found that theengines were still, and something was evidently the mattersomewhere. A momentary panic took place; ladies screamed, childrencried, and gentlemen in queer costumes burst out of their rooms, excitedly demanding, "What is the matter?"

As no lamps are allowed in the rooms at night, darkness added to thealarm, and it was some time before the real state of the case wasknown. Mrs. Homer went at once to the frightened girls, and foundEthel clinging to Jenny, who was trying to find the life-preserverslashed to the wall. 

"We've struck! Don't leave me! Let us die together! Oh, why did Icome? why did I come?" she wailed; while the other girl answeredwith a brave attempt at cheerfulness, as she put over Ethel's headthe only life-preserver she could find, --. 

"I will! I will! Be calm, dear! I guess there is no immediatedanger. Hold fast to this while I try to find something warm for youto put on. "

In a moment Jenny's candle shone like a star of hope in the gloom, and by the time the three had got into wrappers and shawls, a pealof laughter from the Professor assured them that the danger couldnot be great. Other sounds of merriment, as well as Mrs. Sibley'svoice scolding violently, was heard; and presently Mr. Homer came totell them to be calm, for the stoppage was only to cool the engines, and the noise was occasioned by Joe Sibley's tumbling out of hisberth in a fit of nightmare caused by Welsh rarebits and poachedeggs at eleven at night. 

Much relieved, and a little ashamed now of their fright, every onesubsided; but Ethel could not sleep, and clung to Jenny in anhysterical state till a soft voice began to sing "Abide with me" sosweetly that more than one agitated listener blessed the singer andfell asleep before the comforting hymn ended. 

Ethel was up next day, and lay on the Professor's bearskin rug ondeck, looking pale and interesting, while the Sibleys sat by hertalking over the exciting event of the night, to poor Joe's greatdisgust. Jenny crept to her usual corner. And sat with a book on herlap, quietly reviving in the fresh air till she was able to enjoythe pleasant chat of the Homers, who established themselves near byand took care of her, learning each day to love and respect thefaithful little soul who kept her worries to herself, and lookedbrightly forward no matter how black the sky might be. 

Only one other incident of the voyage need be told; but as thatmarked a change in the relations between the two girls it is worthrecording. 

As she prepared for bed late one evening, Mrs. Homer heard Jenny sayin a tone never used before, --

"My dear, I must say something to you or I shall not feel as if Iwere doing my duty. I promised your mother that you should keepearly hours, as you are not very strong and excitement is bad foryou. Now, you WON'T come to bed at ten, as I ask you to every night, but stay up playing cards or sitting on deck till nearly every onebut the Sibleys is gone. Mrs. Homer waits for us, and is tired, andit is very rude to keep her up. Will you PLEASE do as you ought, andnot oblige me to say you must?"

Ethel was sleepy and cross, and answered pettishly, as she held outher foot to have her boot unbuttoned, --for Jenny, anxious to please, refused no service asked of her, --

"I shall do as I like, and you and Mrs. Homer needn't troubleyourselves about me. Mamma wished me to have a good time, and Ishall! There is no harm in staying up to enjoy the moonlight, andsing and tell stories. Mrs. Sibley knows what is proper better thanyou do. "

"I don't think she does, for she goes to bed and leaves the girls toflirt with those officers in a way that I know is NOT proper, "answered Jenny, firmly. "I should be very sorry to hear them say ofyou as they did of the Sibley girls, 'They are a wild lot, but greatfun. '"

"Did they say that? How impertinent!" and Ethel bridled up like aruffled chicken, for she was not out yet, and had not lost themodest instincts that so soon get blunted when a frivolousfashionable life begins. 

"I heard them, and I know that the well-bred people on board do notlike the Sibleys' noisy ways and bad manners. Now, you, my dear, areyoung and unused to this sort of life; so you cannot be too carefulwhat you say and do, and with whom you go. "

"Good gracious! any one would think YOU were as wise as Solomon andas old as the hills. YOU are young, and YOU haven't travelled, anddon't know any more of the world than I do, --not so much of somethings; so you needn't preach. "

"I'm not wise nor old, but I DO know more of the world than you, forI began to take care of myself and earn my living at sixteen, andfour years of hard work have taught me a great deal. I am to watchover you, and I intend to do it faithfully, no matter what you say, nor how hard you make it for me; because I promised, and I shallkeep my word. We are not to trouble Mrs. Homer with our littleworries, but try to help each other and have a really good time. Iwill do anything for you that I can, but I shall NOT let you dothings which I wouldn't allow my own sisters to do, and if yourefuse to mind me, I shall write to your mother and ask to go home. My conscience won't let me take money and pleasure unless I earnthem and do my duty. "

"Well, upon my word!" cried Ethel, much impressed by such a decidedspeech from gentle Jane, and dismayed at the idea of being takenhome in disgrace. 

"We won't talk any more now, because we may get angry and say whatwe should be sorry for. I am sure you will see that I am right whenyou think it over quietly. So good-night, dear. "

"Good-night, " was all the reply Ethel gave, and a long silencefollowed. 

Mrs. Homer could not help hearing as the staterooms were closetogether, and the well-ventilated doors made all conversationbeyond a whisper audible. 

"I didn't think Jane had the spirit to talk like that. She has takenmy hint and asserted herself, and I'm very glad, for Ethel must beset right at once or we shall have no peace. She will respect andobey Jane after this, or I shall be obliged to say MY word. "

Mrs. Homer was right, and before her first nap set in she heard ameek voice say, --

"Are you asleep, Miss Bassett?"

"No, dear. "

"Then I want to say, I've thought it over. Please DON'T write tomamma. I'll be good. I'm sorry I was rude to you; do forgive--"

The sentence was not ended, for a sudden rustle, a little sob, andseveral hearty kisses plainly told that Jenny had flown to pardon, comfort, and caress her naughty child, and that all was well. 

After that Ethel's behavior was painfully decorous for the rest ofthe voyage, which, fortunately for her good resolutions, ended atQueenstown, much to her regret. The Homers thought a glimpse atIreland and Scotland would be good for the girls; and as theProfessor had business in Edinburgh this was the better route forall parties. But Ethel longed for London, and refused to see anybeauty in the Lakes of Killarney, turned up her nose atjaunting-cars, and pronounced Dublin a stupid place. 

Scotland suited her better, and she could not help enjoying the finescenery with such companions as the Homers; for the Professor knewall about the relics and ruins, and his wife had a memory richlystored with the legends, poetry, and romance which make dull factsmemorable and history enchanting. 

But Jenny's quiet rapture was pleasant to behold. She had notscorned Scott's novels as old-fashioned, and she peopled thecottages and castles with his heroes and heroines; she croonedBurns's sweet songs to herself as she visited his haunts, and wentabout in a happy sort of dream, with her head full of Highland Mary, Tam o' Shanter, field-mice and daisies, or fought terrific battleswith Fitz-James and Marmion, and tried if "the light harebell" would"raise its head, elastic from her airy tread, " as it did from theLady of the Lake's famous foot. 

Ethel told her she was "clean daft;" but Jenny said, "Let me enjoyit while I can. I've dreamed of it so long I can hardly realize thatit has come, and I cannot lose a minute of it;" so she absorbedScotch poetry and romance with the mist and the keen air from themoors, and bloomed like the bonnie heather which she loved to wear. 

"What shall we do this rainy day in this stupid place?" said Ethel, one morning when bad weather kept them from an excursion to StirlingCastle. 

"Write our journals and read up for the visit; then we shall knowall about the castle, and need not tire people with our questions, "answered Jenny, already established in a deep window-seat of theirparlor at the hotel with her books and portfolio. 

"I don't keep a journal, and I hate to read guide-books; it's mucheasier to ask, though there is very little I care for about thesemouldy old places, " said Ethel with a yawn, as she looked out intothe muddy street. 

"How can you say so? Don't you care for poor Mary, and PrinceCharlie, and all the other sad and romantic memories that haunt thecountry? Why, it seems as real to me as if it happened yesterday, and I never can forget anything about the place or the people now. Really, dear, I think you ought to take more interest and improvethis fine chance. Just see how helpful and lovely Mrs. Homer is, with a quotation for every famous spot we see. It adds so much toour pleasure, and makes her so interesting. I'm going to learn someof the fine bits in this book of hers, and make them my own, since Icannot buy the beautiful little set this Burns belongs to. Don't youwant to try it, and while away the dull day by hearing each otherrecite and talking over the beautiful places we have seen?"

"No, thank you; no study for me. It is to be all play now. Why tiremy wits with that Scotch stuff when Mrs. Homer is here to do it forme?" and lazy Ethel turned to the papers on the table for amusementmore to her taste. 

"But we shouldn't think only of our own pleasure, you know. It is sosweet to be able to teach, amuse, or help others in any way. I'mglad to learn this new accomplishment, so that I may be to some oneby-and-by what dear Mrs. Homer is to us now, if I ever can. Didn'tyou see how charmed those English people were at Holyrood when shewas reciting those fine lines to us? The old gentleman bowed andthanked her, and the handsome lady called her 'a book of elegantextracts. ' I thought it was such a pretty and pleasant thing that Idescribed it all to mother and the girls. "

"So it was; but did you know that the party was Lord Cumberland andhis family? The guide told me afterward. I never guessed they wereanybody, in such plain tweed gowns and thick boots; did you?"

"I knew they were ladies and gentlemen by their manners andconversation; did you expect they would travel in coronets andermine mantles?" laughed Jenny. 

"I'm not such a goose! But I'm glad we met them, because I can tellthe Sibleys of it. They think so much of titles, and brag about LadyWatts Barclay, whose husband is only a brewer knighted. I shall buya plaid like the one the lord's daughter wore, and wave it in thefaces of those girls; they do put on SUCH airs because they havebeen in Europe before. "

Jenny was soon absorbed in her books; so Ethel curled herself up inthe window-seat with an illustrated London paper full of some royalevent, and silence reigned for an hour. Neither had seen theProfessor's glasses rise like two full moons above his paper now andthen to peep at them as they chatted at the other end of the room;neither saw him smile as he made a memorandum in his note-book, norguessed how pleased he was at Jenny's girlish admiration of hisplain but accomplished and excellent wife. It was one of the trifleswhich went to form his opinion of the two lasses, and in time tosuggest a plan which ended in great joy for one of them. 

"Now the real fun begins, and I shall be perfectly contented, " criedEthel as they rolled through the London streets towards the dingyLangham Hotel, where Americans love to congregate. 

Jenny's eyes were sparkling also, and she looked as if quite readyfor the new scenes and excitements which the famous old citypromised them, though she had private doubts as to whether anythingcould be more delightful than Scotland. 

The Sibleys were at the hotel; and the ladies of both parties atonce began a round of shopping and sightseeing, while the gentlemenwent about their more important affairs. Joe was detailed for escortduty; and a fine time the poor lad had of it, trailing about withseven ladies by day and packing them into two cabs at night for thetheatres and concerts they insisted on trying to enjoy in spite ofheat and weariness. 

Mrs. Homer and Jenny were soon tired of this "whirl of gayety, " asthey called it, and planned more quiet excursions with some hourseach day for rest and the writing and reading which all wisetourists make a part of their duty and pleasure. Ethel rebelled, andmuch preferred the "rabble, " as Joe irreverently called his troop ofladies, never losing her delight in Regent Street shops, the parksat the fashionable hour, and the evening shows in full blasteverywhere during the season. She left the sober party whenever shecould escape, and with Mrs. Sibley as chaperone, frolicked aboutwith the gay girls to her heart's content. It troubled Jenny, andmade her feel as if she were not doing her duty; but Mrs. Homerconsoled her by the fact that a month was all they could give toLondon, and soon the parties would separate, for the Sibleys werebound for Paris, and the Professor for Switzerland and Germany, through August and September. 

So little Jane gave herself up to the pleasures she loved, and withthe new friends, whose kindness she tried to repay by every smallservice in her power, spent happy days among the famous haunts theyknew so well, learning much and storing away all she saw and heardfor future profit and pleasure. A few samples of the different waysin which our young travellers improved their opportunities willsufficiently illustrate this new version of the gay grasshopper andthe thrifty ant. 

When they visited Westminster Abbey, Ethel was soon tired of tombsand chapels, and declared that the startling tableau of the skeletonDeath peeping out of the half-opened door of the tomb to throw hisdart at Mrs. Nightingale, and the ludicrous has-relief of some greatearl in full peer's robes and coronet being borne to heaven in thearms of fat cherubs puffing under their load, were the only thingsworth seeing. 

Jenny sat spellbound in the Poets' Corner, listening while Mrs. Homer named the illustrious dead around them; followed the vergerfrom chapel to chapel with intelligent interest as he told the storyof each historical or royal tomb, and gave up Madam Tussaud'swax-work to spend several happy hours sketching the beautifulcloisters in the Abbey to add to her collection of water-colors, taken as she went from place to place, to serve as studies for herpupils at home. 

At the Tower she grew much excited over the tragic spots she visitedand the heroic tales she heard of the kings and queens, the noblehearts and wise heads, that pined and perished there. Ethel "hatedhorrors, " she said, and cared only for the crown jewels, the fadedeffigies in the armor gallery, and the queer Highlanders skirling onthe bagpipes in the courtyard. 

At Kew Jenny revelled in the rare flowers, and was stricken withamazement at the Victoria Regia, the royal water-lily, so large thata child could sit on one of its vast leaves as on a green island. Her interest and delight so touched the heart of the crusty keeperthat he gave her a nosegay of orchids, which excited the envy ofEthel and the Sibley girls, who were of the party, but had soonwearied of plants and gone off to order tea in Flora's Bower, --oneof the little cottages where visitors repose and refresh themselveswith weak tea and Bath buns in such tiny rooms that they have to puttheir wraps in the fireplace or out of the window while they feast. 

At the few parties to which they went, --for the Homers' friends wereof the grave, elderly sort, --Jenny sat in a corner taking notes ofthe gay scene, while Ethel yawned. But the Mouse got many a crumb ofgood conversation as she nestled close to Mrs. Homer, drinking inthe wise and witty chat that went on between the friends who came topay their respects to the Professor and his interesting wife. Eachnight Jenny had new and famous names to add to the list in herjournal, and the artless pages were rich in anecdotes, descriptions, and comments on the day's adventures. 

But the gem of her London collection of experiences was found in amost unexpected way, and not only gave her great pleasure, but madethe young gadabouts regard her with sudden respect as one come tohonor. 

"Let me stay and wait upon you; I'd much rather than go to theCrystal Palace, for I shouldn't enjoy it at all with you lying herein pain and alone, " said Jenny one lovely morning when the girlscame down ready for the promised excursion, to find Mrs. Homer laidup with a nervous headache. 

"No, dear, you can do nothing for me, thanks. Quiet is all I need, and my only worry is that I am not able to write up my husband'snotes for him. I promised to have them ready last night, but was sotired I could not do it, " answered Mrs. Homer, as Jenny leaned overher full of affectionate anxiety. 

"Let me do them! I'd be so proud to help; and I can, for I did copysome one day, and he said it was well done. Please let me; I shouldenjoy a quiet morning here much better than the noisy party we shallhave, since the Sibleys are to go. "

With some reluctance the invalid consented; and when the rest weregone with hasty regrets, Jenny fell to work so briskly that in anhour or two the task was done. She was looking wistfully out of thewindow wondering where she could go alone, since Mrs. Homer wasasleep and no one needed her, when the Professor came in to see howhis wife was before he went to the British Museum to consult certainfamous books and parchments. 

He was much pleased to find his notes in order, and after a glanceat the sleeping lady, told Jenny she was to come with him for avisit to a place which SHE would enjoy, though most young peoplethought it rather dull. 

Away they went; and being given in charge to a pleasant old man, Jenny roamed over the vast Museum where the wonders of the world arecollected, enjoying every moment, till Mr. Homer called her away, ashis day's work was done. It was late now, but she never thought oftime, and came smiling up from the Egyptian Hall ready for the lunchthe Professor proposed. They were just going out when a gentlemanmet them, and recognizing the American stopped to greet himcordially. Jenny's heart beat when she was presented to Mr. Gladstone, and she listened with all her ears to the silveryun-English voice, and stared with all her eyes at the weary yet wiseand friendly face of the famous man. 

"I'm so glad! I wanted to see him very much, and I feel so grand tothink I've really had a bow and a smile all to myself from thePremier of England, " said Jenny in a flutter of girlish delight whenthe brief interview was over. 

"You shall go to the House of Commons with me and hear him speaksome day; then your cup will be full, since you have already seenBrowning, heard Irving, taken tea with Jean Ingelow, and caught aglimpse of the royal family, " said the Professor, enjoying her keeninterest in people and places. 

"Oh, thanks! that will be splendid. I do love to see famous persons, because it gives me a true picture of them, and adds to my desire toknow more of them, and admire their virtues or shun their faults. "

"Yes, that sort of mental picture-gallery is a good thing to have, and we will add as many fine portraits as we can. Now you shall ridein a Hansom, and see how you like that. "

Jenny was glad to do so, for ladies do not use these vehicles whenalone, and Ethel had put on great airs after a spin in one with Joe. Jenny was girl enough to like to have her little adventures to boastof, and that day she was to have another which eclipsed all that heryoung companions ever knew. 

A brisk drive, a cosy lunch at a famous chop-house where Johnsonhad drunk oceans of tea, was followed by a stroll in the Park; forthe Professor liked his young comrade, and was grateful for thewell-written notes which helped on his work. 

As they leaned against the railing to watch the splendid equipagesroll by, one that seemed well known, though only conspicuous by itsquiet elegance, stopped near them, and the elder of the two ladiesin it bowed and beckoned to Professor Homer. He hastened forward tobe kindly greeted and invited to drive along the Ladies' Mile. Jenny's breath was nearly taken away when she was presented to theDuchess of S--, and found herself sitting in a luxurious carriageopposite her Grace and her companion, with a white-wigged coachmanperched aloft and two powdered footmen erect behind. Secretlyrejoicing that she had made herself especially nice for her tripwith the Professor, and remembering that young English girls areexpected to efface themselves in the company of their elders, shesat mute and modest, stealing shy glances from under her hat-brim atthe great lady, who was talking in the simplest way with her guestabout his work, in which, as a member of one of the historicalhouses of England, she took much interest. A few gracious words fellto Jenny's share before they were set down at the door of the hotel, to the great admiration of the porter, who recognized the liveriesand spread the news. 

"This is a good sample of the way things go in Vanity Fair. Wetrudge away to our daily work afoot, we treat ourselves to a humblecab through the mud, pause in the park to watch the rich and great, get whisked into a ducal carriage, and come home in state, feelingrather exalted, don't we?" asked the Professor as they wentupstairs, and he observed the new air of dignity which Janeunconsciously assumed as an obsequious waiter flew before to openthe door. 

"I think we do, " answered honest Jane, laughing as she caught thetwinkle of his eyes behind the spectacles. "I like splendor, and IAM rather set up to think I've spoken to a live duchess; but I thinkI like her beautiful old face and charming manners more than herfine coach or great name. Why, she was much more simply dressed thanMrs. Sibley, and talked as pleasantly as if she did not feel a bitabove us. Yet one couldn't forget that she was noble, and lived in avery different world from ours. "

"That is just it, my dear; she IS a noble woman in every sense ofthe word, and has a right to her title. Her ancestors werekingmakers, and she is Lady-in-waiting to the Queen; yet she leadsthe charities of London, and is the friend of all who help the worldalong. I'm glad you have met her, and seen so good a sample of atrue aristocrat. We Americans affect to scorn titles, but too manyof us hanker for them in secret, and bow before very poor imitationsof the real thing. Don't fill your journal with fine names, as somemuch wiser folk do, but set down only the best, and remember, 'Allthat glitters is not gold. '"

"I will, sir. " And Jenny put away the little sermon side by sidewith the little adventure, saying nothing of either till Mrs. Homerspoke of it, having heard the story from her husband. 

"How I wish I'd been there, instead of fagging round that greatpalace full of rubbish! A real Duchess! Won't the Sibleys stare? Weshall hear no more of Lady Watts Barclay after this, I guess, andyou will be treated with great respect; see if you are not!" saidEthel, much impressed with her companion's good fortune and eager totell it. 

"If things of that sort affect them, their respect is not worthhaving, " answered Jane, quietly accepting the arm Ethel offered heras they went to dinner, --a very unusual courtesy, the cause of whichshe understood and smiled at. 

Ethel looked as if she felt the reproof, but said nothing, only setan example of greater civility to her companion, which the othergirls involuntarily followed, after they had heard of Jenny'sexcursion with the Professor. 

The change was very grateful to patient Jane, who had borne manysmall slights in proud silence; but it was soon over, for theparties separated, and our friends left the city far behind them, asthey crossed the channel, and sailed up the Rhine to Schwalbach, where Mrs. Homer was to try the steel springs for her rheumatismwhile the Professor rested after his London labors. 

A charming journey, and several very happy weeks followed as thegirls roamed about the Little Brunnen, gay with people from allparts of Europe, come to try the famous mineral waters, and restunder the lindens. 

Jenny found plenty to sketch here, and was busy all day bookingpicturesque groups as they sat in the Allee Saal, doing prettywoodland bits as they strolled among the hills, carefully copyingthe arches and statues in St. Elizabeth's Chapel, or the queer oldhouses in the Jews' Quarter of the town. Even the pigs went into theportfolio, with the little swineherd blowing his horn in the morningto summon each lazy porker from its sty to join the troop thattrotted away to eat acorns in the oak wood on the hill till sunsetcalled them home again. 

Ethel's chief amusement was buying trinkets at the booths near theStahlbrunnen. A tempting display of pretty crystal, agate, and steeljewelry was there, with French bonbons, Swiss carvings, Germanembroidery and lace-work, and most delectable little portfolios ofviews of fine scenery or illustrations of famous books. Ethel spentmuch money here, and added so greatly to her store of souvenirs thata new trunk was needed to hold the brittle treasures she accumulatedin spite of the advice given her to wait till she reached Paris, where all could be bought much cheaper and packed safely fortransportation. 

Jenny contented herself with a German book, Kaulbach's GoetheGallery, and a set of ornaments for each sister; the purple, pink, and white crystals being cheap and pretty trinkets for young girls. She felt very rich with her generous salary to draw upon when sheliked; but having made a list of proper gifts, she resistedtemptation and saved her money, remembering how much every penny wasneeded at home. 

Driving from the ruins of Hohenstein one lovely afternoon, the girlsgot out to walk up a long hill, and amused themselves gatheringflowers by the way. When they took their places again, Ethel had agreat bouquet of scarlet poppies, Jenny a nosegay of bluecorn-flowers for Mrs. Homer, and a handful of green wheat forherself. 

"You look as if you had been gleaning, " said the Professor, as hewatched the girls begin to trim their rough straw hats with the gaycoquelicots and the bearded ears. 

"I feel as if I were doing that every day, sir, and gathering in agreat harvest of pleasure, if nothing else, " answered Jenny, turningher bright eyes full of gratitude from one kind face to the other. 

"My poppies are much prettier than that stiff stuff. Why didn't youget some?" asked Ethel, surveying her brilliant decoration withgreat satisfaction. 

"They don't last; but my wheat will, and only grow prettier as itripens in my hat, " answered Jenny, contentedly settling the gracefulspires in the straw cord that bound the pointed crown. 

"Then the kernels will all drop out and leave the husks; that won'tbe nice, I'm sure, " laughed Ethel. 

"Well, some hungry bird will pick them up and be glad of them. Thehusks will last a long time and remind me of this happy day; yourpoppies are shedding their leaves already, and the odor is notpleasant. I like my honest breadmaking wheat better than your opiumflowers, " said Jenny, with her thoughtful smile, as she watched thescarlet petals float away leaving the green seed-vessels bare. 

"Oh, I shall get some artificial ones at my little milliner's, andbe fine as long as I like; so you are welcome to your useful, bristly old wheat, " said Ethel, rather nettled by the look thatpassed between the elders. 

Nothing more was said; but both girls remembered that little talklong afterward, for those two wayside nosegays served to point themoral of this little tale, if not to adorn it. 

We have no space to tell all the pleasant wanderings of ourtravellers as they went from one interesting place to another, tillthey paused for a good rest at Geneva. 

Here Ethel quite lost her head among the glittering display ofjewelry, and had to be watched lest she rashly spend her last penny. They were obliged almost forcibly to carry her out of the enchantingshops; and no one felt safe till she was either on the lake, ordriving to Chamouni, or asleep in her bed. 

Jenny bought a watch, a very necessary thing for a teacher, and thiswas the best place to get a good one. It was chosen with care andmuch serious consultation with the Professor; and Mrs. Homer added alittle chain and seal, finding Jenny about to content herself with ablack cord. 

"It is only a return for many daughterly services, my dear; and myhusband wishes me to offer these with thanks to the patientsecretary who has often helped him so willingly, " she said, as shecame to wake Jenny with a kiss on the morning of her twenty-firstbirthday. 

A set of little volumes like those she had admired was the secondgift, and Jenny was much touched to be so kindly remembered. Ethelgave her some thread lace which she had longed to buy for her motherat Brussels, but did not, finding it as costly as beautiful. It wasa very happy day, though quietly spent sitting by the lake enjoyingthe well-chosen extracts from Shakspeare, Wordsworth, Byron, Burns, Scott, and other descriptive poets, and writing loving letters home, proudly stamped with the little seal. 

After that, while Ethel haunted the brilliant shops, read novels inthe hotel-garden, or listlessly followed the sight-seers, Jenny, with the help of her valuable little library, her industriouspencil, and her accomplished guides, laid up a store of precioussouvenirs as they visited the celebrated spots that lie like anecklace of pearls around the lovely lake, with Mont Blanc as thesplendid opal that fitly clasps the chain. Calvin and Geneva, Voltaire and Ferney, De Stael and Coppet, Gibbon's garden atLausanne, Byron's Prisoner at Chillon, Rousseau's chestnut grove atClarens, and all the legends, relics, and memories of Switzerland'sheroes, romancers, poets, and philosophers, were carefully studied, recorded, and enjoyed; and when at last they steamed away towardParis, Jenny felt as if her head and her heart and one little trunkheld richer treasures than all the jewelry in Geneva. 

At Lyons her second important purchase was made; for when theyvisited one of the great manufactories to execute severalcommissions given to Mrs. Homer, Jenny proudly bought a nice blacksilk for her mother. This, with the delicate lace, would make thedear woman presentable for many a day, and the good girl beamed withsatisfaction as she pictured the delight of all at home when thissplendid gift appeared to adorn the dear parent-bird, who nevercared how shabby she was if her young were well feathered. 

It was a trial to Jenny, when they reached Paris, to spend day afterday shopping, talking to dressmakers, and driving in the Bois towatch the elegant world on parade, when she longed to be livingthrough the French Revolution with Carlyle, copying the quaintrelics at Hotel Cluny, or revelling in the treasures of the Louvre. 

"Why DO you want to study and poke all the time?" asked Ethel, asthey followed Mrs. Homer and a French acquaintance round the PalaisRoyal one day with its brilliant shops, cafes, and crowds. 

"My dream is to be able to take a place as teacher of German andhistory in a girl's school next year. It is a fine chance, and I ampromised it if I am fitted; so I must work when I can to be ready. That is why I like Versailles better than Rue de Rivoli, and enjoytalking with Professor Homer about French kings and queens more thanI do buying mock diamonds and eating ices here, " answered Jenny, looking very tired of the glitter, noise, and dust of the gay placewhen her heart was in the Conciergerie with poor Marie Antoinette, or the Invalides, where lay the great Napoleon still guarded by hisfaithful Frenchmen. 

"What a dismal prospect! I should think you'd rather have a jollytime while you could, and trust to luck for a place by-and-by, ifyou must go on teaching, " said Ethel, stopping to admire a windowfull of distracting bonnets. 

"No; it is a charming prospect to me, for I love to teach, and Ican't leave anything to luck. God helps those who help themselves, mother says, and I want to give the girls an easier time than I havehad; so I shall get my tools ready, and fit myself to do good workwhen the job comes to me, " answered Jenny, with such a decided airthat the French lady glanced back at her, wondering if a quarrel wasgoing on between the demoiselles. 

"What do you mean by tools?" asked Ethel, turning from the gaybonnets to a ravishing display of bonbons in the next window. 

"Professor Homer said one day that a well-stored mind was atool-chest with which one could carve one's way. Now, my tools areknowledge, memory, taste, the power of imparting what I know, goodmanners, sense, and--patience, " added Jenny, with a sigh, as shethought of the weary years spent in teaching little children thealphabet. 

Ethel took the sigh to herself, well knowing that she had been atrial, especially of late, when she had insisted on Jane's companybecause her own French was so imperfect as to be nearly useless, though at home she had flattered herself that she knew a good deal. Her own ignorance of many things had been unpleasantly impressedupon her lately, for at Madame Dene's Pension there were severalagreeable English and French ladies, and much interestingconversation went on at the table, which Jenny heartily enjoyed, though she modestly said very little. But Ethel, longing todistinguish herself before the quiet English girls, tried to talkand often made sad mistakes because her head was a jumble of newnames and places, and her knowledge of all kinds very superficial. Only the day before she had said in a patronizing tone to a Frenchlady, --

"Of course we remember our obligations to your Lamartine during ourRevolution, and the other brave Frenchmen who helped us. "

"You mean Lafayette, dear, " whispered Jenny quickly, as the ladysmiled and bowed bewildered by the queerly pronounced French, butcatching the poet's name. 

"I know what I mean; you needn't trouble yourself to correct andinterrupt me when I'm talking, " answered Ethel, in her pert way, annoyed by a smile on the face of the girl opposite, and Jenny'sblush at her rudeness and ingratitude. She regretted both when Janeexplained the matter afterward, and wished that she had at oncecorrected what would then have passed as a slip of the tongue. Nowit was too late; but she kept quiet and gave Miss Cholmondeley nomore chances to smile in that aggravatingly superior way, though itwas very natural, as she was a highly educated girl. 

Thinking of this, and many other mistakes of her own from which Janetried to save her, Ethel felt a real remorse, and walked silentlyon, wondering how she could reward this kind creature who had servedher so well and was so anxious to get on in her hard, humble way. The orders were all given now, the shopping nearly done, andMademoiselle Campan, the elderly French lady who boarded at theirPension, was always ready to jaunt about and be useful; so why notgive Jane a holiday, and let her grub and study for the little whileleft them in Paris? In a fortnight Uncle Sam was to pick up thegirls and take them home, while the Homers went to Rome for thewinter. It would be well to take Miss Bassett back in a good humor, so that her report would please Mamma, and appease Papa if he wereangry at the amount of money spent by his extravagant littledaughter. Ethel saw now, as one always does when it is too late torepair damages, many things left undone which she ought to havedone, and regretted living for herself instead of putting morepleasure into the life of this good girl, whose future seemed souninviting to our young lady with her first season very near. 

It was a kind plan, and gratified Jenny very much when it wasproposed and proved to her that no duty would be neglected if shewent about with the Homers and left her charge to the excellent ladywho enjoyed chiffons as much as Ethel did, and was glad to receivepretty gifts in return for her services. 

But alas for Ethel's good resolutions and Jenny's well-earnedholiday! Both came to nothing, for Ethel fell ill from too muchpastry, and had a sharp bilious attack which laid her up till theuncle arrived. 

Every one was very kind, and there was no danger; but the days werelong, the invalid very fretful, and the nurse very tired, before thesecond week brought convalescence and a general cheering andclearing up took place. Uncle Sam was amusing himself verycomfortably while he waited for his niece to be able to travel, andthe girls were beginning to pack by degrees, for the accumulation ofEthel's purchases made her share a serious task. 

"There! All are in now, and only the steamer trunk is left to packat the last moment, " said Jenny, folding her tired arms after aprotracted struggle with half a dozen new gowns, and a perplexingmedley of hats, boots, gloves, and perfumery. Two large trunks stoodin the ante-room ready to go; the third was now done, and nothingremained but the small one and Jenny's shabby portmanteau. 

"How nicely you have managed! I ought to have helped, only youwouldn't let me and I should have spoilt my wrapper. Come and restand help me sort out this rubbish, " said Ethel, who would have beendressed and out if the arrival of a new peignoir had not kept her into enjoy the lovely pink and blue thing, all lace and ribbon andFrench taste. 

"You will never get them into that box, dear, " answered Jenny, gladly sitting down beside her on the sofa, which was strewn withtrinkets of all sorts, more or less damaged by careless handling, and the vicissitudes of a wandering trunk. 

"I don't believe they are worth fussing over. I'm tired of them, andthey look very mean and silly after seeing real jewels here. I'dthrow them away if I hadn't spent so much money on them, " saidEthel, turning over the tarnished filigree, mock pearl, andimitation coral necklaces, bracelets, and brooches that weretumbling out of the frail boxes in which they came. 

"They will look pretty to people at home who have not been seeing somany as we have. I'll sew up the broken cases, and rub up thesilver, and string the beads, and make all as good as new, and youwill find plenty of girls at home glad to get them, I am sure, "answered Jenny, rapidly bringing order out of chaos with thoseskilful hands of hers. 

Ethel leaned back and watched her silently for a few minutes. Duringthis last week our young lady had been thinking a good deal, and wasconscious of a strong desire to tell Jane Bassett how much she lovedand thanked her for all her patient and faithful care during the sixmonths now nearly over. But she was proud, and humility was hard tolearn; self-will was sweet, and to own one's self in the wrong amost distasteful task. The penitent did not know how to begin, sowaited for an opportunity, and presently it came. 

"Shall you be glad to get home, Jenny?" she asked in her mostcaressing tone, as she hung her prettiest locket round her friend'sneck; for during this illness all formality and coolness had meltedaway, and "Miss Bassett" was "Jenny dear" now. 

"I shall be very, very glad to see my precious people again, andtell them all about my splendid holiday; but I can't help wishingthat we were to stay till spring, now that we are here, and I haveno teaching, and may never get such another chance. I'm afraid itseems ungrateful when I've had so much; but to go back withoutseeing Rome is a trial, I confess, " answered honest Jane, rubbingaway at a very dull paste bandeau. 

"So it is; but I don't mind so much, because I shall come againby-and-by, and I mean to be better prepared to enjoy things properlythan I am now. I'll really study this winter, and not be such afool. Jenny, I've a plan in my head. I wonder if you'd like it? Ishould immensely, and I'm going to propose it to Mamma the minute Iget home, " said Ethel, glad to seize this opening. 

"What is it, deary?"

"Would you like to be my governess and teach me all you know, quietly, at home this winter? I don't want to begin school againjust for languages and a few finishing things, and I really thinkyou would do more for me than any one else, because you know what Ineed, and are so patient with your bad, ungrateful, saucy girl. Could you? would you come?" and Ethel put her arms round Jenny'sneck with a little sob and a kiss that was far more precious to Janethan the famous diamond necklace of Marie Antoinette, which she hadbeen reading about. 

"I could and I would with all my heart, if you want me, darling! Ithink we know and love each other now, and can be happy and helpfultogether, and I'll come so gladly if your mother asks me, " answeredJenny, quick to understand what underlay this sudden tenderness, andglad to accept the atonement offered her for many trials which shewould never have told even to her own mother. 

Ethel was her best self now, and her friend felt well rewarded forthe past by this promise of real love and mutual help in the future. So they talked over the new plan in great spirits till Mrs. Homercame to bring them their share of a packet of home letters justarrived. She saw that something unusual was going on, but onlysmiled, nodded, and went away saying, --

"I have good news in MY letters, and hope yours will make youequally happy, girls. "

Silence reigned for a time, as they sat reading busily; then asudden exclamation from Ethel seemed to produce a strange effectupon Jenny, for with a cry of joy she sprang up and danced all overthe room, waving her letter wildly as she cried out, --

"I'm to go! I'm to go! I can't believe it--but here it is! Howkind, how very kind, every one is to me!" and down she went upon herown little bed to hide her face and laugh and cry till Ethel ran torejoice with her. 

"Oh, Jenny, I'm so glad! You deserve it, and it's like Mrs. Homer tomake all smooth before she said a word. Let me read what Mammawrites to you. Here's my letter; see how sweetly she speaks of you, and how grateful they are for all you've done for me. "

The letters changed hands; and sitting side by side in anaffectionate bunch, the girls read the happy news that granted thecherished wish of one and gave the other real unselfish pleasure inanother's happiness. 

Jane was to go to Rome with the Homers for the winter, and perhapsto Greece in the spring. A year of delight lay before her, offeredin such a friendly way, and with such words of commendation, thanks, and welcome, that the girl's heart was full, and she felt that everysmall sacrifice of feeling, every lonely hour, and distasteful dutywas richly repaid by this rare opportunity to enjoy still furtherdraughts of the wisdom, beauty, and poetry of the wonderful worldnow open to her. 

She flew off presently to try to thank her good friends, and cameback dragging a light new trunk, in which she nearly buried hersmall self as she excitedly explained its appearance, while rattlingout the trays and displaying its many conveniences. 

"That dear woman says I'm to send my presents home in the old one byyou, and take this to fill up in Rome. Think of it! A lovely newFrench trunk, and Rome full of pictures, statues, St. Peter's, andthe Colosseum. It takes my breath away and makes my head spin. "

"So I see. It's a capital box, but it won't hold even St. Peter's, dear; so you'd better calm down and pack your treasures. I'll help, "cried Ethel, sweeping about in her gay gown, almost as wild as Jane, who was quite upset by this sudden delicious change in herprospects. 

How happily she laid away in the old trunk the few gifts she hadventured to buy, and those given her, --the glossy silk, the daintylace, the pretty crystals, the store of gloves, the flask ofcologne, the pictures and books, and last of all the sketches whichillustrated the journal kept so carefully for those at home. 

"Now, when my letter is written and the check with all that is leftof my salary put in, I am done. There's room for more, and I wishI'd got something else, now I feel so rich. But it is foolish to buygowns to pay duties on, when I don't know what the girls need. Ifeel so rich now, I shall fly out and pick up some more littlepretties for the dears. They have so few, anything will be charmingto them, " said Jenny, proudly surveying her box, and looking aboutfor some foreign trifle with which to fill up the corners. 

"Then let me put these in, and so be rid of them. I shall go to seeyour people and tell them all about you, and explain how you came tosend so much rubbish. "

As she spoke Ethel slipped in several Swiss carvings, the best ofthe trinkets, and a parcel of dainty Parisian ties and sashes whichwould gladden the hearts of the poor, pretty girls, just beginningto need such aids to their modest toilets. A big box of bonbonscompleted her contribution, and left but one empty corner. 

"I'll tuck in my old hat to keep all steady; the girls will like itwhen they dress up, and I'm fond of it, because it recalls some ofmy happiest days, " said Jenny, as she took up the well-worn hat andbegan to dust it. A shower of grain dropped into her hand, for theyellow wheat still kept its place and recalled the chat atSchwalbach. Ethel glanced at her own hat with its faded artificialflowers; and as her eye went from the small store of treasures socarefully and happily gathered to the strew of almost useless fineryon her bed, she said soberly, --

"You were right, Jenny. My poppies are worthless, and my harvest avery poor one. Your wheat fell in good ground, and you will glean awhole stack before you go home. Well, I shall keep MY old hat toremind me of you: and when I come again, I hope I shall have a wiserhead to put into a new one. "

LITTLE BUTTON-ROSE

"If you please, I've come, " said a small girl, as she walked into alarge room where three ladies sat at work. 

One of the ladies was very thin, one very stout, and the youngestvery pretty. The eldest put on her glasses, the stout one droppedher sewing, and the pretty one exclaimed, --

"Why, it must be little Rosamond!"

"Yes, I've come; the man is taking my trunk upstairs, and I've got aletter for Cousin Penelope, " said the child, with the sweetcomposure of one always sure of a welcome. 

The stout lady held out her hand for the letter; but the littlegirl, after a keen look at the three faces, went to the old lady, who received her with a kiss, saying, --

"That's right; but how did you know, dear?"

"Oh, Papa said Cousin Penny is old, Cousin Henny fat, and CousinCicely rather pretty; so I knew in one minute, " replied Rosamond, ina tone of innocent satisfaction at her own cleverness, and quiteunconscious of the effect of her speech. 

Miss Penelope hastily retired behind the letter. Miss Henriettafrowned so heavily that the gold-rimmed eye-glasses flew off hernose with a clash, and Cicely laughed outright, as she exclaimed, --

"I'm afraid we have got an enfant terrible among us, though I can'tcomplain of my share of the compliments. "

"I never expected to find Clara's child well mannered, and I see Iwas quite right. Take your hat off, Rosamond, and sit down. It tiresSister to lean on her in that way, " said Miss Henny in a severetone, with no offer of any warmer welcome. 

Seeing that something was amiss, the child quietly obeyed, andperching herself in an ancient arm-chair crossed her short legs, folded her plump hands over the diminutive travelling-bag shecarried, and sat looking about the room with a pair of very largeblue eyes, quite unabashed, though rather pensive, as if the memoryof some tender parting were still fresh in her little heart. 

While Miss Penny slowly reads the letter, Miss Henny works daisieson a bit of canvas with pettish jerks of her silk, and Miss Cicelyleans in the sofa-corner, staring at the newcomer, we will brieflyintroduce our small heroine. Her father was cousin to the elderladies, and being called suddenly across the water on business, tookhis wife with him, leaving the little girl to the care of theserelatives, thinking her too young for so long a journey. Cicely, anorphan niece who lived with the old ladies, was to have the care ofRosy; and a summer in the quiet country town would do her good, while change of scene would console her for this first separationfrom her mother. How she fared remains to be seen; and we need onlyadd that the child had been well trained, made the companion of asweet and tender woman, and was very anxious to please the parentswhom she passionately loved, by keeping the promises she had madethem, and being "as brave as Papa, as patient and kind as dearMamma. "

"Well, what do you think of it, Missy?" asked Cicely, as the blueeyes came back to her, after roving round the spacious, old-fashioned, and rather gloomy room. 

"It's a pretty large, dark place for a little girl to be all alonein;" and there was a suspicious quiver in the childish voice, asRosy opened her bag to produce a very small handkerchief, evidentlyfeeling that she might have sudden need of it if some one did notspeak to her very soon. 

"We keep it dark on account of Sister's eyes. When _I_ was a littlegirl, it wasn't considered polite to say rude things about otherpeople's houses, especially if they were very handsome ones, " saidMiss Henny, with a stern glance over the eye-glasses at the youngoffender, whose second remark was even more unfortunate than herfirst. 

"I didn't mean to be rude, but I MUST tell the truth. Little girlslike bright places. I'm sorry about Cousin Penny's eyes. I will readto her; I do to Mamma, and she says it is very well for a child onlyeight years old. "

The gentle answer and the full eyes seemed to calm Miss Henny'swrath, for her size was her tender point, and the old house herespecial pride; so she dropped the awe-inspiring glasses, and saidmore kindly, --

"There is a nice little room ready for you upstairs, and a garden toplay in. Cicely will hear you read every day, and I will teach youto sew, for of course that MOST useful part of your education hasbeen neglected. "

"No, ma'am, I sew my four patches every day, and make little weestitches, and I can hem Papa's hank'chifs, and I was learning todarn his socks with a big needle when--when they went away. "

Rosy paused with a sudden choke; but too proud to break down, sheonly wiped two drops off her cheek with the long ends of her littlegray silk glove, set her lips, and remained mistress of herself, privately planning to cry all she liked when she was safely in the"nice little room" promised her. 

Cicely, though a lazy, selfish young lady, was touched by thechild's pathetic face, and said in a friendly tone, as she pattedthe couch where she lay, --

"Come here, dear, and sit by me, and tell me what kind of a kittenyou'd like best. I know of a sweet yellow one, and two grays. OurTabby is too old to play with you; so you will want a kitty, I'msure. "

"Oh yes, if I may!" and Rosy skipped to the new seat with a smilewhich plainly proved that this sort of welcome was just what sheliked. 

"Now, Cicely, why will you put such an idea into Rosamond's headwhen you know we can't have kittens round the house for Sister tostumble over, not to mention the mischief the horrid things alwaysdo? Tabby is all the child needs, with her doll. Of course you havea doll?" and Miss Henny asked the question as solemnly as if she hadsaid, "Have you a soul?"

"Oh yes, I have nine in my trunk, and two little ones in my bag, andMamma is going to send me a big, big one from London, as soon as shegets there, to sleep with me and be my little comfort, " cried Rosy, rapidly producing from her bag a tiny bride and groom, three seed-cakes, a smelling-bottle, and a purse out of which fell a shower ofbright cents, also crumbs all over the immaculate carpet. 

"Mercy on us, what a mess! Pick it all up, child, and don't unpackany more in the parlor. One doll is quite enough for me, " said MissHenny, with a sigh of resignation as if asking patience to bear thisnew calamity. 

Rosy echoed the sigh as she crept about reclaiming her preciouspennies, and eating the crumbs as the only way of disposing of them. 

"Never mind, it's only her way; the heat makes her a little cross, you see, " whispered Cicely, bending down to hold the bag, into whichRosy bundled her treasures in hot haste. 

"I thought fat people were always pleasant. I'm glad YOU ain't fat, "answered the little girl, in a tone which was perfectly audible. 

What would have happened I tremble to think, if Miss Penny had notfinished the letter at that moment and handed it to her sister, saying as she held out her arms to the child, --

"Now I know all about it, and you are to be my baby; so come andgive me some sweet kisses, darling. "

Down dropped the bag, and with a little sob of joy the child nestledclose to the kind old heart that welcomed her so tenderly at last. 

"Papa calls me his button-rose, 'cause I'm so small and pink andsweet, and thorny too sometimes, " she said, looking up brightly, after a few moments of the fond and foolish cuddling all littlecreatures love and need so much when they leave the nest, and missthe brooding of motherly wings. 

"We'll call you anything you like, darling; but Rosamond is a prettyold name, and I'm fond of it, for it was your grandmamma's, and asweeter woman never lived, " said Miss Penny, stroking the freshcheeks, where the tears shone like dew on pink rose-leaves. 

"I shall call you Chicken Little, because we have Henny and Penny;and the girls and Tab downstairs can be Goosey-Loosey, Turkey-Lurkey, and Cocky-Locky. I'll be Ducky-Lucky, and I'm sure Foxy-Loxy livesnext door, " said Cicely, laughing at her own wit, while Miss Hennylooked up, saying, with the first smile Rosy had seen, --

"That's true enough! and I hope Chicken Little will keep out of hisway, no matter if the sky does fall. "

"Who is it? A truly fox? I never saw one. Could I peep at himsometimes?" cried the child, much interested at once. 

"No, dear; it's only a neighbor of ours who has treated us badly, atleast we think so, and we don't speak, though we used to be goodfriends some years ago. It's sad to live so, but we don't quite seehow to help it yet. We are ready to do our part; but Mr. Dovershould take the first step, as he was in the wrong. "

"Please tell about it. I have horrid quarrels with Mamie Parsonssometimes, but we always kiss and make up, and feel all happy again. Can't you, Cousin Penny?" asked the child, softly touching thelittle white curls under the lace cap. 

"Well, no, dear; grown people cannot settle differences in thatpretty way. We must wait till he apologizes, and then we shallgladly be friends again. You see Mr. Dover was a missionary in Indiafor many years, and we were very intimate with his mother. Ourgardens join, and a gate in our fence led across their field to theback street, and was most convenient when we wanted to walk by theriver or send the maids on errands in a hurry. The old lady was veryneighborly, and we were quite comfortable till Thomas came home andmade trouble. He'd lost his wife and children, poor man, and hisliver was out of order, and living among the heathen so long hadmade him melancholy and queer; so he tried to amuse himself withgardening and keeping hens. "

"I'm glad! I love flowers and biddies, " murmured Rosy, listeningwith deep interest to this delightful mixture of quarrels andheathen, sorrow, poultry, mysterious diseases, and gardens. 

"He had no right to shut up our gate and forbid our crossing thatlittle field, and no GENTLEMAN would have DARED to do it after allour kindness to his mother, " exclaimed Miss Henny, so suddenly andviolently that Rosamond nearly fell off the old lady's lap with thestart she gave. 

"No, sister, I don't agree there. Mr. Thomas had a perfect RIGHT todo as he liked with his own land; but I think we should have had notrouble if you had been willing to sell him the corner of our gardenwhere the old summer-house is, for his hens, " began Miss Penny in amild tone. 

"Sister! you know the tender memories connected with that bower, andhow terrible it would have been to ME to see it torn down, and noisyfowls clucking and pecking where I and my poor Calvin once sattogether, " cried Miss Henny, trying to look sentimental, which wasan impossible feat for a stout lady in a flowery muslin gown, and afly-away cap full of blue ribbons, on a head once flaxen and nowgray. 

"We won't discuss the point, Henrietta, " said the elder lady withdignity; whereupon the other returned to the letter, bridling andtossing her head in a way which caused Rosy to stare, and resolve toimitate it when she played be a proud princess with her dolls. 

"Well, dear, that was the beginning of the trouble, " continued MissPenny; "and now we don't speak, and the old lady misses us, I'msure, and I often long to run in and see her, and I'm so sorry youcan't enjoy the wonders of that house, for it's full of beautifuland curious things, most instructive for children to observe. Mr. Thomas has been a great traveller, and has a tiger skin in theparlor so natural it's quite startling to behold; also spears, andbows and arrows, and necklaces of shark's teeth, from the CannibalIslands, and the loveliest stuffed birds, my dear, all over theplace, and pretty shells and baskets, and ivory toys, and odddresses, and no end of wonderful treasures. Such a sad pity youcan't see them!" and Miss Penny looked quite distressed at thechild's loss. 

"Oh, but I guess I will see 'em! Every one is good to me, and oldgentlemen like little girls. Papa says so, and HE always does what Iwant when I say 'Please' with my wheedulin smile, as he calls it, "said Rosy, giving them a sample of the most engaging sort. 

"You funny little thing, do try it, and soften the heart of thattiresome man! He has the finest roses in town and the most deliciousfruit, and we never get any, though he sends quantities everywhereelse. Such a fuss over an old ear-wiggy arbor! It is perfectlyprovoking, when we might enjoy so much over there; and who knowswhat might happen!"

As Cicely spoke, she smoothed her brown curls and glanced at themirror, quite conscious that a very pretty young lady of twenty waswasting her sweetness in the great gloomy house, with two elderlyspinsters. 

"I'll get some for you, " answered Rosy, with a nod of such calmconviction of her own power, that Cicely laughed again, and proposedthat she should go at once and view the battle-field. 

"Could I RUN in the garden? I'd love to, after riding so long, "asked Rosy, eager to be off; for her active legs ached for exercise, and the close, shady room oppressed her. 

"Yes, dear; but don't get into mischief, or worry Tabby, or pick theflowers. Of course you wouldn't touch green fruit, or climb trees, or soil your little frock. I'll ring the bell for you to come in andbe dressed for tea when it is time. "

With these directions and a kiss, Miss Penny, as Cicely did notstir, let the child out at the back door of the long hall, andwatched her walk demurely down the main path of the prim old garden, where no child had played for years, and even the toads and fatrobins behaved in the most decorous manner. 

"It's pretty dull, but it's better than the parlor with all thestaring pictures, " said Rosy to herself, after a voyage of discoveryhad shown her the few charms of the place. The sight of a largeyellow cat reposing in the sun cheered her eyes at that moment, andshe hastened to scrape acquaintance with the stately animal; for thesnails were not social, and the toads stared even more fixedly ather than the painted eyes of her respected ancestors. 

But Tabby disliked children as much as her mistress, and aftersubmitting ungraciously to a few caresses from the eager littlehands, she rose and retired majestically to a safer perch on the topof the high wall which enclosed the garden. Being too lazy to jump, she walked up the shelves of an old flower-stand moulding in acorner, and by so doing, gave Rosy a brilliant idea, which she atonce put into action by following Tabby's example. Up this new sortof ladder she went, and peeped over the wall, delighted at thisunexpected chance to behold the enemy's territory. 

"Oh, what a pretty place!" she cried, clasping her grubby littlehands with rapture, as the beauties of the forbidden land burst uponher view. 

It was indeed a paradise to a child's eyes, --for flowers bloomedalong the winding paths; ripening fruit lay rosy and tempting in thebeds below; behind the wire walls that confined them clucked andstrutted various sorts of poultry; cages of gay birds hung on thepiazza; and through the open windows of the house one caughtglimpses of curious curtains, bright weapons, and mysterious objectsin the rooms beyond. 

A gray-headed gentleman in a queer nankeen coat lay asleep on abamboo lounge under the great cherry-tree, with a purple silkhandkerchief half over his face. 

"That's the missionary man, I s'pose. He doesn't look cross at all. If I could only get down there, I'd go and wake him with a softlykiss, as I do Papa, and ask to see his pretty things. "

Being quite unconscious of fear, Rosy certainly would have carriedout her daring plan, had it been possible; but no way of descendingon the other side appeared, so she sighed and sat gazing wistfully, till Cousin Henny appeared for a breath of fresh air, and orderedher down at once. 

"Come and see if my balsam-seeds have started yet. I keep plantingthem, but they WON'T come up, " she said, pointing out a mound ofearth newly dug and watered. 

Rosy obediently scrambled up, and was trying to decide whether somegreen sprouts were chickweed or the dilatory balsams when a suddenuproar in the next garden made her stop to listen, while Miss Hennysaid in a tone of great satisfaction, as the cackle of hens arose, --

"Some trouble with those horrid fowls of his. I detest them, crowingin the night, and waking us at dawn with their noise. I wish somethief would steal every one of them. Nobody has a right to annoytheir neighbors with troublesome pets. "

Before Rosy could describe the beauties of the white bantams or thesize of the big golden cock, a loud voice cried, --

"You rascal! I'll hang you if I catch you here again. Go homequicker than you came, and tell your mistress to teach you bettermanners, if she values your life. "

"It's that man! Such language! I wonder who he's caught? That badboy who steals our plums, perhaps. "

The words were hardly out of Miss Henny's mouth when her questionwas answered in a sudden and dreadful way; for over the wall, hurledby a strong arm, flew Tabby, high in the air, to fall with a thumpdirectly in the middle of the bed where they stood. Miss Hennyuttered a shrill scream, caught up her stunned treasure, and rushedinto the house as fast as her size and flounces permitted, leavingRosy breathless with surprise and indignation. 

Burning to resent this terrible outrage, she climbed quickly up thesteps, and astonished the irate old gentleman on the other side bythe sudden apparition of a golden head, a red childish face, and adirty little finger pointed sternly at him, as this small avengingangel demanded, --

"Missionary man, how COULD you kill my cousin's cat?"

"Bless my soul! who are you?" said the old gentleman, staring atthis unexpected actor on the field of battle. 

"I'm Button-Rose, and I hate cruel people! Tabby's dead, and nowthere isn't any one to play with over here. "

This sad prospect made the blue eyes fill with sudden tears; and theapplication of the dirty fingers added streaks of mud to the redcheeks, which much damaged the appearance of the angel, thought itadded pathos to the child's reproach. 

"Cats have nine lives, and Tabby's used to being chucked over thewall. I've done it several times, and it seems to agree with her, for she comes back to kill my chicks as bold as brass. See that!"and the old gentleman held up a downy dead chicken, as proof ofTabby's sin. 

"Poor little chicky!" groaned Rosy, yearning to mourn over the deardeparted and bury it with tender care. "It WAS very naughty of Tab;but, sir, you know cats are made to catch things, and they can'thelp it. "

"They will have to help it, or I'll drown the lot. This is a rarebreed, and I've but two left after all my trouble, thanks to thatrascal of yours! What are you going to do about it?" demanded Mr. Dover, in a tone that made Rosy feel as if she had committed themurder herself. 

"I'll talk to Tabby and try to make her good, and I'll shut her upin the old rabbit-house over here; then I hope she will be sorry andnever do it any more, " she said, in such a remorseful tone that theold gentleman relented at once, ashamed to afflict such a tenderlittle soul. 

"Try it, " he said, with a smile that made his yellow face pleasantall at once. Then, as if ready to change the subject, he asked, looking curiously at the little figure perched on the wall, --

"Where did you come from? Never saw any children over there before. They don't allow 'em. "

Rosy introduced herself in a few words, and seeing that her newacquaintance seemed interested, she added with the wheedling smilePapa found so engaging, --

"It's pretty lonely here, I guess; so p'r'aps you'll let me peep atyour nice garden sometimes if it doesn't trouble you, sir?"

"Poor little soul! it must be desperately dull with those threetabbies, " he said to himself, as he stroked the dead chicken in hishand, and watched the little face bent toward him. 

"Peep as much as you like, child; or, better still, come over andrun about. _I_ like little girls, " he added aloud, with a nod and awave of welcome. 

"I told 'em I was sure you did! I'd love to come, but they wouldn'tlet me, I know. I'm so sorry about the fight. Couldn't you make itup, and be pleasant again?" asked Rosy, clasping her hands with abeseeching gesture as her bright face grew sad and seriousremembering the feud. 

"So they've told you that nonsense already, have they? Niceneighbors THEY are, " said the old gentleman, frowning as if illpleased at the news. 

"I'm glad I know; p'r'aps I can be a peace-maker. Mamma says theyare good to have in families, and I'd like to be one if I could. Would you mind if I tried to peace-make a little, so I could comeover? I do want to see the red birds and the tiger skin awfully, ifyou please. "

"What do you know about 'em?" asked the old gentleman, sitting downon a garden chair, as if he didn't mind continuing the chat withthis new neighbor. 

Nearly tumbling off the wall in her earnestness, Rosy repeated allthat Cousin Penny had said; and something in the reasonable words, the flattering description of his treasures, and the sincere regretof the old lady seemed to have a good effect upon Mr. Dover, forwhen Rosy paused out of breath, he said in such an altered tone thatit was evident the peacemaking had already begun, --

"Miss Carey is a gentlewoman! I always thought so. You tell her, with my compliments, that I'd be glad to see you any time if she hasno objection. I'll put my step-ladder there, and you can come overinstead of the cat. But mind you don't meddle, or I might give you atoss like Tabby. "

"I'm not afraid, " laughed Rosy. "I'll go and ask right away, and Iwon't touch a thing, and I know you'll like me for a friend. Papasays I'm a dear little one. Thank you very much, sir. Good-by till Icome again;" and with a kiss of the hand, the yellow head sunk outof sight like the sun going down, leaving a sense of darkness behindwhen the beaming little face disappeared, though fresh stains ofgreen mould from the wall made it rather like the tattooedcountenances Mr. Dover used to see among his cannibal friends inAfrica. 

He sat musing with the dead chicken in his hand, forgetful of time, till a ring of his own door-bell called him in to receive a notefrom Miss Penelope, thanking him for his invitation to littleRosamond, but declining it in the most polite and formal words. 

"I expected it! Bless the silly old souls! why can't they bereasonable, and accept the olive branch when I offer it? I'll behanged if I do again! The fat one is at the bottom of this. Miss Penwould give in if that absurd Henrietta didn't hold her back. Well, I'm sorry for the child, but that's not my fault;" and throwing downthe note, he went out to water his roses. 

For a week or two, Button-Rose hardly dared glance toward theforbidden spot from her window, as she was ordered to play in thefront garden, and sent to take sober walks with Cicely, who loved tostop and gossip with her friends, while the poor child waitedpatiently till the long tales were told. 

Nursing Tabby was her chief consolation; and so kind was she, thatthe heart of the old cat softened to her, and she actually purredher thanks at last, for all the saucers of cream, bits of chicken, soft pats, and tender words bestowed upon her by the little girl. 

"Well, I declare! Tab won't do that even for me, " said Miss Henny, one day when she came upon the child sitting alone in the hall witha picture-book and the cat comfortably asleep in her lap. 

"Ammals always love me, if people don't, " answered Button-Rose, soberly; for she had not yet forgiven the stout lady for denying herthe delights offered by the "missionary man. "

"That's because AN-I-MALS can't see how naughty you are sometimes, "said Miss Henny tartly, not having recovered her temper even aftermany days. 

"I shall make EVERY one love me before I go away. Mamma told me to, and I shall. I know how;" and Button smiled with a wise little nodthat was pretty to see, as she proudly cuddled her first conquest. 

"We shall see;" and Miss Henny ponderously departed, wondering whatodd fancy the little thing would take into her head next. 

It was soon evident; for when she came down from her long nap, laterin the afternoon, Miss Henny found Rosamond reading aloud to hersister in the great dim parlor. They made a curious contrast, --thepale, white-haired, feeble old lady, with her prim dress, high cap, knitting, and shaded eyes; and the child, rosy and round, quaint andsweet, a pretty little ornament for the old-fashioned room, as shesat among the tea-poys and samplers, ancient china and furniture, with the portraits of great grandfathers and grandmothers simperingand staring at her, as if pleased and surprised to see such acharming little descendant among them. 

"Bless the baby! what is she at now?" asked Miss Henny, feeling moreamiable after her sleep. 

"I'm reading to Cousin Penny, 'cause no one else does, and her pooreyes hurt her, and she likes stories, and so do I, " answered Button, with one chubby finger on the place in her book, and eyes full ofpride at the grown-up employment she had found for herself. 

"So kind of the little dear! She found me alone and wanted to amuseme; so I proposed a story to suit us both, and she does very wellwith a little help now and then. I haven't read 'Simple Susan' foryears, and really enjoy it. Maria Edgeworth was always a favorite ofmine, and I still think her far superior to any modern writer forthe young, " said Miss Penny, looking quite animated and happy in thenew entertainment provided for her. 

"Go on, child; let me hear how well you can read;" and Miss Hennysettled herself in the sofa-corner with her embroidery. 

So Button started bravely on, and tried so hard that she was soonout of breath. As she paused, she said with a gasp, --

"Isn't Susan a dear girl? She gives ALL the best things to otherpeople, and is kind to the old harper. She didn't send him away, asyou did the music-man to-day, and tell him to be still. "

"Organs are a nuisance, and I never allow them here. Go on, anddon't criticise your elders, Rosamond. "

"Mamma and I always talk over stories, and pick out the morals of'em. SHE likes it;" with which remark, made sweetly not pertly, Button went on to the end, with an occasional lift over a long word;and the old ladies were interested, in spite of themselves, in thesimple tale read in that childish voice. 

"Thank you, dear, it is very nice, and we will have one every day. Now, what can I do for you?" asked Miss Penny, as the little girlpushed the curls off her forehead, with a sigh of mingled wearinessand satisfaction. 

"Let me go in the back garden and peep through the knot-hole at thepretty roses. I do long to see if the moss ones are out, and thecherries ripe, " said Rosy, clasping her hands imploringly. 

"It can do no harm, Henrietta. Yes, dear, run away and get somecatnip for Tabby, and see if the balsams are up yet. "

That last suggestion won Miss Henny's consent; and Button was off atonce, skipping like a young colt all over the garden, which nowseemed delightful to her. 

At the back of the summer-house was a narrow space between it andthe fence where certain plump toads lived; peeping in to watch them, Rosy had spied a large knot-hole in the old boards, and through itfound she could get a fine view of several rose-bushes, a tree, andone window of the "missionary man's" house. She had longed foranother peep since the flower-stand was gone, and climbing treesforbidden; now with joy she slipped into the damp nook, regardlessof the speckled gentlemen who stared at her with dismay, and took agood look at the forbidden paradise beyond. 

Yes, the "moss ones" were in bloom, the cherries quite red, and atthe window was the gray head of Mr. Dover, as he sat reading in hisqueer yellow dressing-gown. 

Button yearned to get in, and leaned so hard against the hatefulfence that the rotten board cracked, a long bit fell out, and shenearly went after it, as it dropped upon the green bank below. Nowthe full splendor of the roses burst upon her, and a delightfulgooseberry bush stood close by with purplish berries temptinglybobbing within reach. This obliging bush hid the hole, but left fineopenings to see through; so the child popped her curly head out, andgazed delightedly at the chickens, the flowers, the fruit, and theunconscious old gentleman not far away. 

"I'll have it for my secret; or maybe I'll tell Cousin Penny, andbeg her to let me peep if I truly promise never to go in, " thoughtButton, knowing well who her best friend was. 

At bedtime, when the dear old lady came to give the good-night kiss, which the others forgot, Rosy, as Miss Penny called her, made herrequest; and it was granted, for Miss Penny had a feeling that thelittle peacemaker would sooner or later heal the breach with herpretty magic, and so she was very ready to lend a hand in a quietway. 

Next day at play-time, Button was hurrying down her last bit ofgingerbread, which she was obliged to eat properly in thedining-room, instead of enjoying out-of-doors, when she heard asudden flurry in the garden, and running to the window saw Roxy themaid chasing a chicken to and fro, while Miss Henny stood flappingher skirts on the steps, and crying, "Shoo!" till she was red in theface. 

"It's the white banty, and it must have come in my hole! Oh dear, Ihope they won't catch it! Cousin Henny said she'd wring the neck ofthe first one that flied over the wall. "

Away went Rosy, to join in the hunt; for Miss Henny was too fat torun, and Roxy found the lively fowl too much for her. It was a longand hard chase; feathers flew, the maid lost her breath, Rosytumbled down, and Miss Henny screamed and scolded till she wasforced to sit down and watch in silence. 

At last poor, hunted Banty ran into the arbor, for its clipped wingswould not lift it over the wall. Button rushed after it, and dismalsqualls plainly proclaimed that the naughty chicken was caught. 

Miss Henny waddled down the path, declaring that she WOULD wring itsneck; and Roxy went puffing after her, glad to rest. But the oldsummer-house was empty. No little girl, no ruffled bantam, appeared. Both had vanished like magic; and mistress and maid stared at eachother in amazement, till they saw that the long-disused window wasopen, and a gleam of light came in from the narrow opening behind. 

"My patience! if that child hasn't crept out there, and boltedthrough that hole in the fence! Did you ever, Miss?" exclaimed Roxy, trying not to look pleased at being spared the distasteful task ofkilling the poor chicken. 

"Naughty girl!" began Miss Henny, when the sound of voices made bothlisten. "Slip in there, and see what is going on, " said themistress, well knowing that her stout person never could be squeezedinto the small space between house and fence. 

Roxy, being thin, easily obeyed, and in a whisper telephoned whatwent on beyond the hole, causing Miss Henny much vexation, surprise, and at last real pleasure, as the child performed her little part inthe mission she had undertaken. 

"Oh, please, it's all my fault! I kept the hole open, Mr. Thomas, and so Banty flied in. But it isn't hurt a bit, and I've brought ithome all safe, 'cause I know you love your chickies, and Tabby atelots of 'em, " said the childish voice in its most conciliatory tone. 

"Why didn't you fling it over the wall, as I did the cat?" asked Mr. Dover, smiling, as he shut up the truant fowl, and turned to look atthe rosy, breathless child, whose pink frock bore the marks of manya tumble on grass and gravel. 

"It would hurt Banty's feelings, and yours too, and not be polite. So I came myself, to make some pollygies, and say it was my fault. But, please, could I keep the hole to peep through, if I always putup a board when I go away? It is so dull in there, and SO sweet inhere!"

"Don't you think a little gate would be nicer, --one just big enoughfor you, with a hook to fasten it? We'll call it a button-hole, "laughed Mr. Dover. "Then you could peep; or perhaps the ladies willthink better of it, and show that they pardon my ill treatment ofTabby by letting you come in and pick some cherries and roses nowand then. "

This charming proposal caused the little girl to clasp her hands andcry aloud, --

"That would be perfully sp'endid! I know Cousin Penny would like it, and let me. P'r'aps she'd come herself; she's so thin, she could, and she loves your mother and wants to see her. Only, Cousin Hennywon't let us be nice and friendly. S'pose you send HER somecherries; she loves good things to eat, and maybe she will say yes, if you send lots. "

Mr. Dover laughed at this artless proposal, and Miss Henny smiled atthe prospect of a gift of the luscious black-heart cherries she hadbeen longing for. Roxy wisely repeated only the agreeable parts ofthe conversation; so nothing ruffled the lady's temper. Now, whetherMr. Dover's sharp eye caught a glimpse of the face among thegooseberry bushes, and suspected eavesdroppers, or whether thechild's earnest desire to make peace touched him, who shall say?Certain it is that his eyes twinkled like a boy's, as he said ratherloudly, in his most affable tone, --

"I shall be most happy to send Miss Henrietta a basket of fruit. Sheused to be a charming young woman. It's a pity she shuts herself upso much; but that sad little romance of hers has darkened her life, I suppose. Ah, well, I can sympathize with her!"

Rosy stared at the sudden change in his manner, and was ratherbewildered by his grown-up way of talking to her. But being intenton securing something nice to carry home, she stuck to the cherries, which she DID understand, and pointing to the piazza said with abusiness-like air, --

"There's a basket; so we might pick 'em right away. I love to go upin trees and throw 'em down; and I know Cousin Henny will likecherries ever so much, and not scold a bit when I take some to her. "

"Then come on, " cried Mr. Thomas, relapsing into the hearty mannershe liked so much; and away he went, quite briskly, down the path, with his yellow skirts waving in the wind, and Button skipping afterhim in great glee. 

"They actually ARE a-picking cherries, Miss, up in the tree like acouple of robins a-chirpin' and laughin' as gay as can be, " reportedRoxy, from her peep-hole. 

"Rip off the rest of that board, then I can see, " whispered MissHenny, quivering with interest now; for she had heard Mr. Dover'swords, and her wrath was appeased by that flattering allusion toherself. 

Off came the rest of the board, and from the window, half hidden inwoodbine, she could now see over the bushes into the next garden. The peep-hole commanded the tree, and she watched with eager eyesthe filling of the basket to be sent her, planning the while acharming note of thanks. 

"Do look, Miss; they are resting now, and she's on his knee. Ain'tit a pretty picter?" whispered Roxy, unmindful of the earwigs, ants, and daddy-long-legs promenading over her as she crouched in hermouldy corner, intent on the view beyond. 

"Very pretty! He lost several children in India and I suppose Rosyreminds him of them. Ah, poor man! I can sympathize with him, for_I_ too have loved and lost, " sighed Miss Henny, pensively surveyingthe group on the rustic seat. 

They were playing cherry-bob; and the child's laughter made pleasantmusic in the usually quiet place, while the man's face lost its sad, stern look, and was both gay and tender, as he held the littlecreature close, and popped the ripe fruit into the red, laughingmouth. 

As the last sweet morsel disappeared Rosy said, with a long breathof perfect content, --

"It's ALMOST as good as having Papa to play with. I do hope thecousins WILL let me come again! If they don't, I think my heart willbreak, 'cause I get so homesick over there, and have so many trials, and no one but Cousin Penny ever cuddles me. "

"Bless her heart! We'll send her some flowers for that. You tell herthat Mrs. Dover is poorly, and would like very much to see her; andso would Mr. Thomas, who enjoys her little niece immensely. Can youremember that?"

"Every word! SHE is very nice to me, and I love her, and I guess shewill be glad to come. She likes MOSS-roses, and so do I, " added theunblushing little beggar, as Mr. Dover took out his knife and beganto make the bouquet which was to be Miss Penny's bribe. He could notbear to give up his little playmate, and was quite ready to tryagain, with this persistent and charming ally to help him heal thebreach. 

"Shall you send anything to Cis? You needn't mind about it, 'causeshe can't keep me at home, but it might please her, and make herstop rapping my head with her thimble when I ask questions, andslapping my fingers when I touch any of her pretty things, "suggested Button, as the flowers were added to the fruit, makinga fine display. 

"I never send presents to YOUNG ladies, " said Mr. Thomas shortly, adding, with both hands out, and his most inviting smile, "But IALWAYS kiss nice little girls if they will allow me?"

Button threw both arms about his neck and gave him a shower ofgrateful kisses, which were sweeter to the lonely old man than allthe cherries that ever grew, or the finest flowers in his garden. Then Miss Rosamond proudly marched home, finding no trace of thewatchers, for both had fled while the "cuddling" went on. Roxy wassoberly setting the dinner-table, and Miss Henny in the parlorbreathing hard behind a newspaper. Miss Penny and Cicely werespending the day out, so the roses had to wait; but the basket wasmost graciously received, also the carefully delivered message, andthe child's heart was rejoiced by free permission to go and see "ourkind neighbor now and then, if Sister does not object. "

Rosy was in great spirits, and prattled away as they sat at dinner, emboldened by the lady's unusual amiability to ask all sorts ofquestions, some of which proved rather embarrassing to Miss Henny, and very amusing to Roxy, listening in the china-closet. 

"I wish _I_ had 'spepsia, " was the abrupt remark of the small personas her plate of drum-sticks was removed and the pudding appeared, accompanied by the cherries. 

"Why, dear?" asked Miss Henny, busily arranging the small dish ofdelicate tidbits, which left little but the skeleton of the roastfowl for the kitchen. 

"Then I could have the nicest bits of chicken, and heaps of sauce onmy pudding, and the butteryest slices of toast, and ALL the creamfor my tea, as you do. It isn't a VERY bad pain, is it?" asked Rosy, in such perfect good faith that Miss Henny's sudden flush and Roxy'shasty dive into the closet never suggested to her that this innocentspeech was bringing the old lady's besetting sin to light in themost open manner. 

"Yes, child, it is VERY bad, and you may thank your stars that I tryto keep you from it by feeding you on plain food. At my age, andsuffering as I do, the best of everything is needed to keep up mystrength, " said Miss Henny, tartly. But the largest plate ofpudding, with "heaps of sauce, " went to the child this day, and whenthe fruit was served, an unusually small portion was put away forthe invalid, who was obliged to sustain nature with frequent lunchesthrough the day and evening. 

"I'm s'prised that you suffer much, Cousin Henny. How brave you mustbe, not to cry about it, and go round in horrid pain, as you do, anddress so nicely, and see people, and work 'broidering, and makecalls! I hope I shall be brave if I ever DO have 'spepsia; but Iguess I shan't, you take such care to give me small pieces everytime. "

With which cheerful remark Rosy closed that part of the conversationand returned to the delights of her new friend's garden. But fromthat day, among other changes which began about this time, thechild's cup and plate were well filled, and the dread of adding toher own sufferings seemed to curb the dyspeptic's voraciousappetite. "A cheild was amang them takin' notes, " and every oneinvoluntarily dreaded those clear eyes and that frank tongue, soinnocently observing and criticising all that went on. Cicely hadalready been reminded of a neglected duty by Rosy's reading to MissPenny, and tried to be more faithful in that, as in other serviceswhich she owed the old lady. So the little missionary was evidentlygetting on, though quite unconscious of her work at home, soabsorbed was she in her foreign mission; for, like many anothermissionary, the savage over the way was more interesting than theselfish, slothful, or neglected souls at home. 

Miss Penny was charmed with her flowers and the friendly messagesent her, and to Rosy's great delight went next day, in best bonnetand gown, to make a call upon the old lady "who was poorly, " forthat appeal could not be resisted. Rosy also, in honor of the greatoccasion, wore HER best hat, and a white frock so stiff that shelooked like a little opera dancer as the long black legs skippedalong the street; for it was far too grand a visit to be paidthrough a hole in the wall. 

In the basket were certain delicacies for the old lady, and a cardhad been prepared, with the names of Miss Carey and Miss RosamondCarey beautifully written on it by Cis, who was dying to go, butdared not after Rosy had told her Mr. Dover's remark about youngladies. 

As the procession of two paused at the door, both the young and theold heart fluttered a little, for this was the first decided steptoward reconciliation, and any check might spoil it all. The maidstared, but civilly led these unexpected guests in and departed withthe card. Miss Penny settled herself in a large chair and lookedabout with pensive interest at the familiar room. But Rosy made abee-line for the great tiger-skin, and regardless of her cleanfrock lay down on it to examine the head, which glared at her withyellow eyes, showing all its sharp teeth in the most delightfullynatural manner. 

Mr. Dover came in with a formal bow, but Miss Penny put out bothhands, and said in her sweet old voice, --

"Let us be friends again for the sake of your mother. "

That settled the matter at once, and Mr. Thomas was so eager to dohis part that he not only shook the hands heartily, but kept them inhis as he said like an honest man, --

"My dear neighbor, I beg your pardon! _I_ was wrong, but I'm not tooproud to own it and say I'm glad to let by-gones be by-gones for thesake of all. Now come and see my mother; she is longing for you. "

What went on in the next room Rosy never knew or cared, for Mr. Thomas soon returned, and amused her so well, showing his treasures, that she forgot where she was till the maid came to say tea wasready. 

"Are we going to stay?" cried the little girl, beaming from under aFeejee crown of feathers, which produced as comical an effect uponher curly head as did the collar of shark's teeth round her plumpneck or the great Japanese war-fan in her hand. 

"Yes, we have tea at five; come and turn it out. I've ordered thelittle cups especially for you, " said her host, as he changed thesmall Amazon to a pretty child again and led her away to preside atthe table, where the quaint china and silver, and the dainty cakeand bread and butter proved much more attractive than the little oldlady in a big cap who patted her head and smiled at her. 

Never had Rosy enjoyed such a delicious meal; for the rapture ofpouring real tea out of a pot shaped like a silver melon, into cupsas thin as egg-shells, and putting in sugar with tongs like claws, not to mention much thick cream, also spicy, plummy cakes thatmelted in one's mouth, was too great for words. 

The little maid was so absorbed in her new duties that she neverminded what the elders talked about, till the plates were empty, thepot ran dry, and no one could be prevailed on to have any more tea. Then she leaned back in her chair and remarked with an air of calmsatisfaction, as she looked from one to the other, and smiled thatengaging smile of hers, --

"Isn't being friends a great deal nicer than fighting and throwingcats over walls and calling bad names?"

It was impossible not to laugh, and that cheerful sound seemed totune every one to the sweetest harmony, while the little peacemakerwas passed round as if a last course of kisses was absolutelynecessary. 

Then the party broke up, and Mr. Dover escorted his guests to theirown gate, to the great amazement of the neighbors and the veryvisible pride of Miss Button-Rose, who went up the walk with herhead as high as if the wreath of daisies on her little hat had beena conqueror's crown. 

Now that the first step had been taken, all would have gone smoothlyif Cicely, offended because Mr. Thomas took no notice of HER, hadnot put it into Miss Henny's head that as the original quarrel beganbetween her and their neighbor, it would not be dignified to give intill Mr. Dover had come and begged pardon of HER as well as of MissPenny. This suited the foolish old lady, who never could forgetcertain plain words spoken in the heat of battle, though the kindlyones lately heard had much softened her heart toward the offender. 

"No, I shall not forget my dignity nor humble myself by going overthere to apologize as Penelope has. SHE can do as she likes; and nowthat he has asked to be forgiven, there is perhaps no harm in HERseeing the old lady. But with me it is different. _I_ was insulted, and till Thomas Dover conies here and solemnly asks my pardon I willNOT cross his threshold, no matter what bribes he sends, " said MissHenny, with an air of heroic firmness. 

But it did cost her a pang when her sister went every now and thento take tea with the old lady and came home full of pleasant news;while Rosy prattled of the fine things she saw, the nice things shehad to eat, and never failed to bring some gift to share, or todisplay to the exiles from Paradise. They ate the "bribes, " however, as they called the fruit, admired the pretty trinkets and toys, andlonged to share in the mild festivities of the pleasant house overthe way, but stood firm in spite of all Rosy's wiles, till somethingunexpected happened to touch their hearts, conquer their foolishpride, and crown the little peacemaker's efforts with success. 

One August afternoon Cicely was discontentedly looking over hersmall store of ornaments as she made ready for a party. She lovedgayety, and went about a great deal, leaving many duties undone, orasking the little girl to attend to them for her, neglecting, however, to show any gratitude for these small services socheerfully done. 

As she sat tossing over her boxes, Button-Rose came in lookingtired and listless, for it was a hot day, and she had been out twiceto do errands for Cicely, besides trotting busily up and down towait on the old ladies while the young one put fresh ribbons on herdress and curled her hair for the evening. 

"Could I lie on your sofa, please, Cis? My head aches, and my legsare SO tired, " said little Button, when her tap had been answered bya sharp "What do you want, child?"

"No, I'm going to lie there myself and have a nap as soon as I'mdone here. It's cooler than the bed, and I must be fresh forto-night, " said Cicely, too intent on her own affairs to see howused up Rosy looked. 

"Then could I look at your pretty things if I don't touch 'em?"asked the child, longing to peep into the interesting boxesscattered on the table. 

"No, you can't! I'm busy, and don't want you asking questions andmeddling. Go away and let me alone. "

Cicely spoke crossly, and waved her hand with a warning gesture, thereby upsetting the tray which held the beads of the necklace shehad decided to wear for want of something better. 

"There, now see what you've done! Pick up every one, and be quick, for I'm in a hurry. "

"But I didn't touch 'em, " began poor Button, as she crept abouthunting for the black and white beads that looked like very uglymarbles. 

"Don't talk; pick them up and then scamper; you are always inmischief!" scolded Cis, vexed with herself, and the heat, and theaccident, and the whole world just then. 

Rosy said no more, but several great tears dropped on the carpet asshe groped in corners, under the bed, and behind the chairs for therun-aways; and when the last was found she put it in her tyrant'shand, saying, with a wistful look, --

"I'm very sorry I troubled you. Seems to me if _I_ had a littlecousin, I'd love to have her play with my things, and I wouldn't becross to her. Now I'll go and try to AMOOSE myself with Bella; SHEis always good to me. "

"Run along then. Thank goodness that doll came when it did, for I'mtired of 'amoosing' small girls as well as old ladies, " said Cis, busy with her beads, yet sorry she had been so petulant with patientlittle Button, who seldom reproached her, being a cheery child, andblessed with a sweet temper. 

Rosy felt too languid to play; so when she had told Bella, theLondon doll, her trials, and comforted herself with some kisses onthe waxen cheeks, she roamed away to the summer-house, which wascool and quiet, longing for some one to caress her; for the littleheart was homesick and the little head ached badly. 

The "button-hole" had been made, the alley swept out, to the greatdismay of the spiders, earwigs, and toads, who had fled to quieterquarters, and Rosy had leave to go and come when she liked if Mr. Dover did not object. He never did; and it was her greatest delightto walk in the pretty garden at her own sweet will, always with thehope of meeting its kindly owner, for now they were firm friends. She had been too busy for a run there that day; and now, as shepeeped in, it looked so shady and inviting, and it seemed so naturalto turn to her dear "missionary man" for entertainment, that shewent straight up to his study window and peeped in. 

He too seemed out of sorts that hot afternoon, for he sat leaninghis head on both hands at the desk strewn with piles of old letters. Button-Rose's tender heart yearned over him at once, and steppingquietly in at the long open window she went to him, saying in hertenderest tone, --

"Does your head ache, sir? Let me soft it as I do Papa's; he saysthat always makes it more better. Please let me? I'd love todearly. "

"Ah, my darling, I wish you could. But the pain is in my heart, andnothing will ever cure it, " sighed Mr. Thomas, as he drew her closeand put his wrinkled yellow cheek to her soft one, which looked morelike a damask rose than usual. 

"You have trials too, I s'pose. Mine trouble me to-day, so I cameover to see you. Shall I go away?" asked Rosy with a sigh and thewistful look again. 

"No, stay, and we will comfort each other. Tell me your troubles, Button, and perhaps I can help them, " the kind old gentleman said ashe took her on his knee and stroked the curly head with a paternaltouch. 

So Rosy told her latest grief, and never saw the smile that creptabout the lips that asked in a tone of deep interest, --

"Well, what do you mean to do to that unkind Cicely?"

"For a minute I wanted to slap her back when she tried to spat myhands. Then I 'membered that Mamma said a kiss for a blow was a goodthing, so I picked up the beads and planned to do it; but Cis lookedSO cross I couldn't. If I had a pretty necklace I'd go and give itto her, and then maybe she'd love me better. "

"My dear little missionary, you SHALL have beads to win the heart ofYOUR heathen, if that is all you need. See here; take anything youlike, and give it with the kiss. "

As he spoke, Mr. Dover pulled open a drawer in the desk anddisplayed a delightful collection of pretty, quaint, and curioustrinkets picked up in foreign lands, and kept for keepsakes, sinceno little daughters of his own lived to wear them. 

"How perf'ly dorgeous!" cried Rosy, who often fell into baby talkwhen excited; and plunging in her hands, she revelled for someminutes in sandal-wood cases, carved ivory fans, silver bangles, barbaric brooches, and necklaces of coral, shells, amber, and goldencoins, that jingled musically. 

"What SHALL I take for her?" cried the little maid, bewildered bysuch a mine of wealth. "You pick out one, Mr. Thomas, that willplease her so much, 'cause you never send her anything, and shedon't like it, " said Rosy, fearing that her own taste was not to betrusted, as she liked the shells and shark's teeth ornaments best. 

"No, I'll give YOU one, and you shall do as you like about giving itto her. This, now, is really valuable and pretty, and any young ladywould like to wear it. It makes me think of you, my Button, for itis like sunshine, and the word cut on the little heart means peace. "

Mr. Dover held up a string of amber beads with its carved amulet, and swung it to and fro where the light shone through it till eachbead looked like a drop of golden wine. 

"Yes, that is lovely, and it smells nice, too. She will be sos'prised and pleased; I'll go and take it to her right away, " criedRosy, forgetting to ask anything for herself, in her delight at thisfine gift for Cis. 

But as she lifted her head after he had fastened the clasp about herneck, something in his face recalled the look it wore when she firstcame in, and putting both hands upon his shoulders, she said in hersweet little way, --

"You've made my troubles go away, can't I make yours? You are SOkind to me, I'd love to help you if I could. "

"You do, my child, more than you know; for when I get you in my armsit seems as if one of my poor babies had come back to me, and for aminute I forget the three little graves far away in India. "

"Three!" cried Button, like a sad, soft echo; and she clung to thepoor man as if trying to fill the empty arms with the love and pitythat over-flowed the childish soul in her small body. 

This was the comfort Mr. Thomas wanted, and for a few moments hejust cradled her on his hungry heart, crooning a Hindostaneelullaby, while a few slow tears came dropping down upon the yellowhead, so like those hidden for years under the Indian flowers. Presently he seemed to come back from the happy past to which theold letters had carried him. He wiped his eyes, and Rosy's also, with the big purple silk handkerchief, and pressing some verygrateful kisses on the hot cheeks, said cheerfully again, --

"God bless you, child, that's done me good! But don't let it saddenyou, dear; forget all about it, and tell no one what a sentimentalold fool I am. "

"I never truly will! Only when you feel sorry about the poor littlebabies, let me come and give you cuddlings. They always make peoplefeel more better, and I love 'em, and don't get any now my dearpeople are away. "

So the two made a tender little plan to comfort each other whenhearts were heavy with longings for the absent, and parted at thesmall gate, both much cheered, and faster friends than ever. 

Rosy hastened in with her peace-offering, forgetful now of headacheor loneliness as she sat patiently in the wide entry window-seatlistening till some sound in Cicely's room should show that she wasawake. Before that happened, however, poor Button fell asleepherself, lulled by the quiet of the house, --for every one wasnapping, --and dreamed that Mr. Dover stood waving a rainbow overhis head, while several Indian gods and three little girls weredancing round him, hand in hand, to the tune of "Ring around arosy. "

A loud yawn roused her, and there was Cis peeping out of her door tosee what time it was by the old-fashioned clock on the landing. Upscrambled the child, feeling dizzy and heavy-eyed, but so eager togive pleasure that she lost no time in saying, as she swung thenecklace in the sunshine, --

"See! this is for you, if you like it more better than thethunder-and-lightning marbles, as Cousin Penny calls the one youwere going to wear. "

"How lovely! Where DID you get it, child?" cried Cis, wide awake atonce, as she ran to the glass to try the effect of the new ornamenton her white neck. 

"My dear Mr. Thomas gave it to me; but he said I could give it awayif I liked, and I want you to have it, 'cause it's ever so muchprettier than any you've got. "

"That's very kind of you, Chicken, but why not keep it yourself? Youlike nice things as well as I do, " said Cicely, much impressed bythe value of the gift, for it was real amber, and the clasp of gold. 

"Well, I've talked with Mr. Thomas about missionarying a great deal, and he told me how he made the savinges good by giving them beads, and things to eat, and being patient and kind to them. So I thoughtI'd play be a missionary, and call this house Africa, and try tomake the people here behave more better, " answered Rosy, with suchengaging earnestness, as well as frankness, that Cis laughed, andexclaimed, --

"You impertinent monkey, to call us heathen and try to convert us!How do you expect to do it?"

"Oh, I'm getting on pretty well, only you don't CONVERT as quick assome of the savinges did. I'll tell you about it;" and Button wenton eagerly. "Cousin Penny is the good old one, but rather fussy andslow, so I'm kind and patient, and now she loves me and lets me dothings I like. She is my best one. Cousin Henny is my cannybel, 'cause she eats so much, and I please HER by bringing nice thingsand getting her cushions ready. You are my baddest one, who is crossto me, and fights, and raps my head, and slaps my hands; so Ithought some beads would be nice for you, and I bringed thesebeauties. Mr. Thomas gave 'em to me when I told him my trials. "

Cicely looked angry, amused, and ashamed, as she listened to thefunny yet rather pathetic little play with which the lonely childhad tried to cheer herself and win the hearts of those about her. She had the grace to blush, and offer back the necklace, saying in aself-reproachful tone, --

"Keep your beads, little missionary, I'll be converted without them, and try to be kinder to you. I AM a selfish wretch, but you shallplay be my little sister, and not have to go to strangers forcomfort in your trials any more. Come, kiss me, dear, and we'llbegin now. "

Rosy was in her arms at once, and clung there, saying with a faceall smiles, --

"That's what I wanted! I thought I'd make a good savinge of you if Itried VERY hard. Please be kind to me just till Mamma comes back, and I'll be the best little sister that ever was. "

"Why didn't you tell me all about it before?" asked Cicely, smoothing the tired head on her shoulder with a new gentleness; forthis last innocent confession had touched her heart as well as herconscience. 

"You never seemed to care about my plays, and always said, 'Don'tchatter, child; run away and take care of yourself. ' So I did; butit was pretty dull, with only Tabby to tell secrets to and Bella tokiss. Mr. Thomas said people over here didn't like children verywell, and I found they didn't. HE does, dearly, so I went to him;but I like you now, you are so soft and kind to me. "

"How hot your cheeks are! Come and let me cool them, and brush yourhair for tea, " said Cis, as she touched the child's feverish skin, and saw how heavy her eyes were. 

"I'm all burning up, and my head is SO funny. I don't want any tea. I want to lie on your sofa and go to sleep again. Can I?" askedRosy, with a dizzy look about the room, and a shiver at the idea ofeating. 

"Yes, dear, I'll put on your little wrapper, and make you allcomfortable, and bring you some ice-water, for your lips are verydry. "

As she spoke, Cicely bustled about the room, and soon had Rosynicely settled with her best cologne-bottle and a fan; then shehastened down to report that something was wrong, with a fear in herown heart that if any harm did come to the child it would be herfault. Some days before Cicely had sent Button-Rose with a note to afriend's house where she knew some of the younger children were ill. Since then she had heard that it was scarlet fever; but though Rosyhad waited some time for an answer to the note, and seen one of theinvalids, Cis had never mentioned the fact, being ashamed to confessher carelessness, hoping no harm was done. Now she felt that it HADcome, and went to tell gentle Cousin Penny with tears of vainregret. 

Great was the lamentation when the doctor, who was sent for in hothaste, pronounced it scarlet fever; and deep was the self-reproachof the two older women for their blindness in not before remarkingthe languid air and want of appetite in the child. But Cicely wasfull of remorse; for every quick word, every rap of the hatefulthimble, every service accepted without thanks, weighed heavily onher conscience now, as such things have an inconvenient way of doingwhen it is too late to undo them. Every one was devoted to thechild, even lazy Miss Henny gave up her naps to sit by her at allhours, Miss Penny hovered over the little bed like a grandmother, and Cicely refused to think of pleasure till the danger was over. 

For soon Button-Rose was very ill, and the old house haunted by thedreadful fear that death would rob them of the little creature whogrew so precious when the thought of losing her made their heartsstand still. How could they live without the sound of that sweetvoice chirping about the house, the busy feet tripping up and down, the willing hands trying to help, the sunny face smiling at everyone, and going away into corners to hide the tears that sometimescame to dim its brightness? What would comfort the absent mother forsuch a loss as this, and how could they answer to the father for thecarelessness that risked the child's life for a girl's errand? Noone dared to think, and all prayed heartily for Rosy's life, as theywatched and waited by the little bed where she lay so patiently, till the fever grew high and she began to babble about many things. Her childish trials were all told, her longings for Mamma, whoseplace no one could fill, her quaint little criticisms upon thoseabout her, and her plans for making peace. These innocentrevelations caused many tears, and wrought some changes in those whoheard; for Miss Penny quite forgot her infirmities to live in thesick-room as the most experienced nurse and tenderest watcher. MissHenny cooked her daintiest gruel, brewed her coolest drinks, andlost many pounds in weight by her indefatigable trotting up and downto minister to the invalid's least caprice. Cicely was kept away forfear of infection, but HER penance was to wander about the greathouse, more silent than ever now, to answer the inquiries and listento the sad forebodings of the neighbors, who came to offer help andsympathy; for all loved little Button-Rose, and grieved to think ofany blight falling on the pretty blossom. To wile away the longhours, Cicely fell to dusting the empty rooms, setting closets anddrawers to rights, and keeping all fresh and clean, to the greatrelief of the old cousins, who felt that everything would go todestruction in their absence. She read and sewed now, having noheart for jaunting about; and as she made the long neglected whitepinafores, for Rosy, she thought much of the little girl who mightnever live to wear them. 

Meantime the fever took its course, and came at last to the fatefulday when a few hours would settle the question of life or death. Thehot flush died out of the cheeks that had lost their soft roundnessnow, the lips were parched, the half-shut eyes looked like sickviolets, and all the pretty curls were tangled on the pillow. Rosyno longer sung to Bella, talked of "three dear little girls" and Mr. Thomas, tigers and bangles, Cis and necklaces, hens and gates. Sheceased to call for Mamma, asked no more why her "missionary man"never came, and took no notice of the anxious old faces bending overher. She lay in a stupor, and the doctor held the little wastedhand, and tried to see the face of his watch with dim eyes as hecounted the faint pulse, whispering solemnly, --

"We can only hope and wait now. Sleep alone can save her. "

As the sisters sat, one on either side the narrow bed that day, andCicely walked restlessly up and down the long hall below, where bothdoors stood open to let in the cool evening air, as the sun wentdown, a quick but quiet step came up the steps, and Mr. Dover walkedin without ringing. He had been away, and coming home an hour ago, heard the sad news. Losing not a moment, he hurried to ask about hislittle Button, and his face showed how great his love and fear were, as he said in a broken whisper, --

"Will she live? My mother never told me how serious it was, or Ishould have returned at once. "

"We hope so, sir, but--" And there Cicely's voice failed, as she hidher face and sobbed. 

"My dear girl, don't give way. Keep up your heart, hope, pray, willthat the darling SHALL live, and that may do some good. We can't lether go! we won't let her go! Let me see her; I know much of feversfar worse than this, and might be able to suggest something, " beggedMr. Dover, throwing down his hat, and waving an immense fan withsuch an air of resolution and cheery good-will that tired Cis feltcomforted at once, and led the way upstairs entirely forgetting thegreat feud, as he did. 

At the threshold of the door he paused, till the girl had whisperedhis name. Miss Penny, always a gentlewoman, rose at once and wentto meet him, but Miss Henny did not even seem to see him, for justthen, as if dimly feeling that her friend was near, Rosy stirred, and gave a long sigh. 

Silently the three stood and looked at the beloved little creaturelying there in the mysterious shadow of death, and they so helplessto keep her if the hour for departure had come. 

"God help us!" sighed pious Miss Penny, folding her old hands, as ifthey did that often now. 

"Drifting away, I fear;" and Miss Henny's plump face looked almostbeautiful, with the tears on it, as she leaned nearer to listen tothe faint breath at the child's lips. 

"No; we will keep her, please the Lord! If we can make her sleepquietly for the next few hours she is safe. Let me try. Fan slowlywith this, Miss Henrietta, and you, dear lady, pray that theprecious little life may be given us. "

As he spoke, Mr. Dover gave the great fan to Miss Henny, took thesmall cold hands in his, and sitting on the bedside held them closein his large warm ones, as if trying to pour life and strength intothe frail body, as his eyes, fixed on the half-opened ones, seemedto call back the innocent soul hovering on the threshold of itsprison, like the butterfly poised upon the chrysalis before it soarsaway. 

Miss Penny knelt down near by, and laying her white head on theother pillow, again besought God to spare this treasure to thefather and mother over the sea. How long they remained so none ofthem ever knew, silent and motionless but for the slow waving of thenoiseless fan, which went to and fro like the wing of a great whitebird, as if Miss Henny's stout arm could never tire. Miss Penny wasso still she seemed to be asleep. Mr. Dover never stirred, but grewpaler as the minutes passed; and Cicely, creeping now and then tolook in and steal away, saw strange power in the black eyes thatseemed to hold the fluttering spirit of the little child by the loveand longing that made them both tender and commanding. 

A level ray of sunlight stole through the curtain at last and turnedthe tangles of bright hair to pure gold. Miss Henny rose to shut itout, and as if her movement broke the spell, Rosy took a long fullbreath, turned on the pillow, and putting one hand under her cheek, seemed to fall asleep as naturally as she used to do when well. MissPenny looked up, touched the child's forehead, and whispered, with alook of gratitude as bright as if the sunshine had touched heralso, --

"It is moist! this is real sleep! Oh, my baby! oh, my baby!" And theold head went down again with a stifled sob, for her experienced eyetold her that the danger was passing by and Rosy would live. 

"The prayers of the righteous avail much, " murmured Mr. Dover, turning to the other lady, who stood beside her sister looking downat the little figure now lying so restfully between them. 

"How can we thank you?" she whispered, offering her hand, with thesmile which had once made her pretty, and still touched the old facewith something better than beauty. 

Mr. Dover took the hand and answered, with an eloquent look at thechild, --

"Let not the sun go down upon our wrath. Forgive me and be friendsagain, for her sake. "

"I will!" And the plump hands gave the thin ones a hearty shake asthe great feud ended forever over the bed of the little peacemakerwhose childish play had turned to happy earnest. 

MOUNTAIN-LAUREL AND MAIDEN-HAIR

Here's your breakfast, miss. I hope it's right. Your mother showedme how to fix it, and said I'd find a cup up here. "

"Take that blue one. I have not much appetite, and can't eat ifthings are not nice and pretty. I like the flowers. I've beenlonging for some ever since I saw them last night. "

The first speaker was a red-haired, freckle-faced girl, in a browncalico dress and white apron, with a tray in her hands and an air oftimid hospitality in her manner; the second a pale, pretty creature, in a white wrapper and blue net, sitting in a large chair, lookingabout her with the languid interest of an invalid in a new place. Her eyes brightened as they fell upon a glass of rosy laurel anddelicate maidenhair fern that stood among the toast and eggs, strawberries and cream, on the tray. 

"Our laurel is jest in blow, and I'm real glad you come in time tosee it. I'll bring you a lot, as soon's ever I get time to go forit. "

As she spoke, the plain girl replaced the ugly crockery cup andsaucer with the pretty china ones pointed out to her, arranged thedishes, and waited to see if anything else was needed. 

"What is your name, please?" asked the pretty girl, refreshingherself with a draught of new milk. 

"Rebecca. Mother thought I'd better wait on you; the little girlsare so noisy and apt to forget. Wouldn't you like a piller to yourback? you look so kind of feeble seems as if you wanted to bepropped up a mite. "

There was so much compassion and good-will in the face and voice, that Emily accepted the offer, and let Rebecca arrange a cushionbehind her; then, while the one ate daintily, and the other stirredabout an inner room, the talk went on, --for two girls are seldomlong silent when together. 

"I think the air is going to suit me, for I slept all night andnever woke till Mamma had been up ever so long and got things allnicely settled, " said Emily, graciously, when the fresh strawberrieshad been enjoyed, and the bread and butter began to vanish. 

"I'm real glad you like it; most folks do, if they don't mind itbeing plain and quiet up here. It's gayer down at the hotel, but theair ain't half so good, and delicate folks generally like our oldplace best, " answered Becky, as she tossed over a mattress and shookout the sheet with a brisk, capable air pleasant to see. 

"I wanted to go to the hotel, but the doctor said it would be toonoisy for me, so Mamma was glad to find rooms here. I didn't think afarm-house COULD be so pleasant. That view is perfectly splendid!"and Emily sat up to gaze delightedly out of the window, below whichspread the wide intervale, through which the river ran withhay-fields on either side, while along the green slopes of the hillslay farm-houses with garden plots, and big barns waiting for theharvest; and beyond, the rocky, wooded pastures dotted with cattleand musical with cow-bells, brooks, and birds. 

A balmy wind kissed a little color into the pale cheeks, thelistless eyes brightened as they looked, and the fretful linesvanished from lips that smiled involuntarily at the sweet welcomeNature gave the city child come to rest and play and grow gay androsy in her green lap. 

Becky watched her with interest, and was glad to see how soon thenew-comer felt the charm of the place, for the girl loved hermountain home, and thought the old farm-house the loveliest spot inthe world. 

"When you get stronger I can show you lots of nice views round here. There's a woodsy place behind the house that's just lovely. Down bythe laurel bushes is MY favorite spot, and among the rocks is a cavewhere I keep things handy when I get a resting-spell now and then, and want to be quiet. Can't get much at home, when there's boardersand five children round in vacation time. "

Becky laughed as she spoke, and there was a sweet motherly look inher plain face, as she glanced at the three little red heads bobbingabout the door-yard below, where hens cackled, a pet lamb fed, andthe old white dog lay blinking in the sun. 

"I like children; we have none at home, and Mamma makes such a babyof me I'm almost ashamed sometimes. I want her to have a good restnow, for she has taken care of me all winter and needs it. You shallbe my nurse, if I need one; but I hope to be so well soon that I cansee to myself. It's so tiresome to be ill!" and Emily sighed as sheleaned back among her pillows, with a glance at the little glasswhich showed her a thin face and shorn head. 

"It must be! I never was sick, but I have taken care of sick folks, and have a sight of sympathy for 'em. Mother says I make a prettygood nurse, being strong and quiet, " answered Becky, plumping uppillows and folding towels with a gentle despatch which was verygrateful to the invalid, who had dreaded a noisy, awkwardserving-maid. 

"Never ill! how nice that must be! I'm always having colds andheadaches, and fusses of some kind. What do you do to keep well, Rebecca?" asked Emily, watching her with interest, as she came in toremove the tray. 

"Nothing but work; I haven't time to be sick, and when I'm tuckeredout, I go and rest over yonder. Then I'm all right, and buckle toagain, as smart as ever;" and every freckle in Becky's rosy faceseemed to shine with cheerful strength and courage. 

"I'm 'tuckered out' doing nothing, " said Emily, amused with the newexpression, and eager to try a remedy which showed such fine resultsin this case. "I shall visit your pet places and do a little work assoon as I am able, and see if it won't set me up. Now I can onlydawdle, doze, and read a little. Will you please put those bookshere on the table? I shall want them by-and-by. "

Emily pointed to a pile of blue and gold volumes lying on a trunk, and Becky dusted her hands as she took them up with an air ofreverence, for she read on the backs of the volumes names which madeher eyes sparkle. 

"Do you care for poetry?" asked Emily, surprised at the girl's lookand manner. 

"Guess I do! don't get much except the pieces I cut out of papers, but I love 'em, and stick 'em in an old ledger, and keep it down inmy cubby among the rocks. I do love THAT man's pieces. They seem togo right to the spot somehow;" and Becky smiled at the name ofWhittier as if the sweetest of our poets was a dear old friend ofhers. 

"I like Tennyson better. Do you know him?" asked Emily, with asuperior air, for the idea of this farmer's daughter knowinganything about poetry amused her. 

"Oh yes, I've got a number of his pieces in my book, and I'm fond of'em. But this man makes things so kind of true and natural I feel athome with HIM. And this one I've longed to read, though I guess Ican't understand much of it. His 'Bumble Bee' was just lovely; withthe grass and columbines and the yellow breeches of the bee. I'mnever tired of that;" and Becky's face woke up into something likebeauty as she glanced hungrily at the Emerson while she dusted thedelicate cover that hid the treasures she coveted. 

"I don't care much for him, but Mamma does. I like romantic poems, and ballads, and songs; don't like descriptions of clouds andfields, and bees, and farmers, " said Emily, showing plainly thateven Emerson's simplest poems were far above her comprehension asyet, because she loved sentiment more than Nature. 

"I do, because I know 'em better than love and the romantic stuffmost poetry tells about. But I don't pretend to judge, I'm glad ofanything I can get. Now if you don't want me I'll pick up my dishesand go to work. "

With that Becky went away, leaving Emily to rest and dream with hereyes on the landscape which was giving her better poetry than anyher books held. She told her mother about the odd girl, and was sureshe would be amusing if she did not forget her place and try to befriends. 

"She is a good creature, my dear, her mother's main stay, and worksbeyond her strength, I am sure. Be kind to the poor girl, and put alittle pleasure into her life if you can, " answered Mrs. Spenser, asshe moved about, settling comforts and luxuries for her invalid. 

"I shall HAVE to talk to her, as there is no other person of my agein the house. How are the school marms? shall you get on with them, Mamma? It will be so lonely here for us both, if we don't makefriends with some one. "

"Most intelligent and amiable women all three, and we shall havepleasant times together, I am sure. You may safely cultivate Becky;Mrs. Taylor told me she was a remarkably bright girl, though she maynot look it. "

"Well, I'll see. But I do hate freckles and big red hands, and roundshoulders. She can't help it, I suppose, but ugly things fret me. "

"Remember that she has no time to be pretty, and be glad she is soneat and willing. Shall we read, dear? I'm ready now. "

Emily consented, and listened for an hour or two while the pleasantvoice beside her conjured away all her vapors with some of Mrs. Ewing's charming tales. 

"The grass is dry now, and I want to stroll on that green lawnbefore lunch. You rest, Mamma dear, and let me make discoveries allalone, " proposed Emily, when the sun shone warmly, and the instinctof all young creatures for air and motion called her out. 

So, with her hat and wrap, and book and parasol, she set forth toexplore the new land in which she found herself. 

Down the wide, creaking stairs and out upon the door-stone she went, pausing there for a moment to decide where first to go. The sound ofsome one singing in the rear of the house led her in that direction, and turning the corner she made her first pleasant discovery. A hillrose steeply behind the farm-house, and leaning from the bank was anold apple-tree, shading a spring that trickled out from the rocksand dropped into a mossy trough below. Up the tree had grown a wildgrape-vine, making a green canopy over the great log which served asa seat, and some one had planted maidenhair ferns about both seatand spring to flourish beautifully in the damp, shady spot. 

"Oh, how pretty! I'll go and sit there. It looks clean, and I cansee what is going on in that big kitchen, and hear the singing. Isuppose it's Becky's little sisters by the racket. "

Emily established herself on the lichen-covered log with her feetupon a stone, and sat enjoying the musical tinkle of the water, withher eyes on the delicate ferns stirring in the wind, and the livelyjingle of the multiplication-table chanted by childish voices in herear. 

Presently two little girls with a great pan of beans came to dotheir work on the back doorstep, a third was seen washing dishes ata window, and Becky's brown-spotted gown flew about the kitchen asif a very energetic girl wore it. A woman's voice was heard givingdirections, as the speaker was evidently picking chickens somewhereout of sight. 

A little of the talk reached Emily and both amused and annoyed her, for it proved that the country people were not as stupid as theylooked. 

"Oh, well, we mustn't mind if she IS notional and kind of wearing;she's been sick, and it will take time to get rid of her frettyways. Jest be pleasant, and take no notice, and that nice mother ofhers will make it all right, " said the woman's voice. 

"How anybody with every mortal thing to be happy with CAN beout-of-sorts passes me. She fussed about every piller, chair, trunk, and mite of food last night, and kept that poor tired lady trottingtill I was provoked. She's right pleasant this morning though, andas pretty as a picture in her ruffled gown and that blue thing onher head, " answered Becky from the pantry, as she rattled out thepie-board, little dreaming who sat hidden behind the grape-vinefestoons that veiled the corner by the spring. 

"Well, she's got redder hair 'n' we have, so she needn't be so grandand try to hide it with blue nets, " added one little voice. 

"Yes, and it's ever so much shorter 'n' ours, and curls all over herhead like Daisy's wool. I should think such a big girl would feelreal ashamed without no braids, " said the other child, proudlysurveying the tawny mane that hung over her shoulders, --for likemost red-haired people all the children were blessed with luxuriantcrops of every shade from golden auburn to regular carrots. 

"I think it's lovely. Suppose it had to be cut off when she had thefever. Wish I could get rid of my mop, it's such a bother;" andBecky was seen tying a clean towel over the great knot that made herhead look very like a copper kettle. 

"Now fly round, deary, and get them pies ready. I'll have thesefowls on in a minute, and then go to my butter. You run off and seeif you can't find some wild strawberries for the poor girl, soon'sever you are through with them beans, children. We must kind ofpamper her up for a spell till her appetite comes back, " said themother. 

Here the chat ended, and soon the little girls were gone, leavingBecky alone rolling out pie-crust before the pantry window. As sheworked her lips moved, and Emily, still peeping through the leaves, wondered what she was saying, for a low murmur rose and fell, emphasized now and then with a thump of the rolling-pin. 

"I mean to go and find out. If I stand on that wash-bench I can lookin and see her work. I'll show them all that _I_'m NOT 'fussy, ' andcan be 'right pleasant' if I like. "

With this wise resolution Emily went down the little path, and afterpausing to examine the churn set out to dry, and the row of pansshining on a neighboring shelf, made her way to the window, mountedthe bench while Becky's back was turned, and pushing away themorning-glory vines and scarlet beans that ran up on either sidepeeped in with such a smiling face that the crossest cook could nothave frowned on her as an intruder. 

"May I see you work? I can't eat pies, but I like to watch peoplemake them. Do you mind?"

"Not a bit. I'd ask you to come in, but it's dreadful hot here, andnot much room, " answered Becky, crimping round the pastry before shepoured in the custard. "I'm going to make a nice little pudding foryou; your mother said you liked 'em; or would you rather havewhipped cream with a mite of jelly in it?" asked Becky, anxious tosuit her new boarder. 

"Whichever is easiest to make. I don't care what I eat. Do tell mewhat you were saying. It sounded like poetry, " said Emily, leaningboth elbows on the wide ledge with a pale pink morning-glory kissingher cheek, and a savory odor reaching her nose. 

"Oh, I was mumbling some verses. I often do when I work, it sort ofhelps me along; but it must sound dreadfully silly, " and Beckyblushed as if caught in some serious fault. 

"I do it, and it's a great comfort when I lie awake. I should thinkyou WOULD want something to help you along, you work so hard. Do youlike it, Becky?"

The familiar name, the kind tone, made the plain face brighten withpleasure as its owner said, while she carefully filled a pretty bowlwith a golden mixture rich with fresh eggs and country milk--

"No, I don't, but I ought to. Mother isn't as strong as she used tobe, and there's a sight to do, and the children to be brought up, and the mortgage to be paid off; so if _I_ don't fly round, whowill? We are doing real well now, for Mr. Walker manages the farmand gives us our share, so our living is all right; then boarders insummer and my school in winter helps a deal, and every year the boyscan do more, so I'd be a real sinner to complain if I do have tostep lively all day. "

Becky smiled as she spoke, and straightened her bent shoulders as ifsettling her burden for another trudge along the path of duty. 

"Do you keep school? Why, how old are you, Becky?" asked Emily, muchimpressed by this new discovery. 

"I'm eighteen. I took the place of a teacher who got sick last fall, and I kept school all winter. Folks seemed to like me, and I'm goingto have the same place this year. I'm so glad, for I needn't go awayand the pay is pretty good, as the school is large and the childrendo well. You can see the school-house down the valley, that redbrick one where the roads meet;" and Becky pointed a floury finger, with an air of pride that was pleasant to see. 

Emily glanced at the little red house where the sun shone hotly insummer, and all the winds of heaven must rage wildly in winter time, for it stood, as country schools usually do, in the barest, mostuninviting spot for miles around. 

"Isn't it awful down there in winter?" she asked, with a shiver atthe idea of spending days shut up in that forlorn place, with acrowd of rough country children. 

"Pretty cold, but we have plenty of wood, and we are used to snowand gales up here. We often coast down, the whole lot of us, andthat is great fun. We take our dinners and have games noon-spells, and so we get on first rate; some of my boys are big fellows, olderthan I am; they clear the roads and make the fire and look after us, and we are real happy together. "

Emily found it so impossible to imagine happiness under suchcircumstances that she changed the subject by asking in a tone whichhad unconsciously grown more respectful since this last revelationof Becky's abilities, --

"If you do so well here, why don't you try for a larger school in abetter place?"

"Oh, I couldn't leave mother yet; I hope to some day, when the girlsare older, and the boys able to get on alone. But I can't go now, for there's a sight of things to do, and mother is always laid upwith rheumatism in cold weather. So much butter-making down cellaris bad for her; but she won't let me do that in summer, so I takecare of her in winter. I can see to things night and morning, andthrough the day she's quiet, and sits piecing carpet-rags andresting up for next spring. We made and wove all the carpets in thehouse, except the parlor one. Mrs. Taylor gave us that, and thecurtains, and the easy-chair. Mother takes a sight of comfort inthat. "

"Mrs. Taylor is the lady who first came to board here, and told usand others about it, " said Emily. 

"Yes, and she's the kindest lady in the world! I'll tell you allabout her some day, it's real interesting; now I must see to mypies, and get the vegetables on, " answered Becky, glancing at thegay clock in the kitchen with an anxious look. 

"Then I won't waste any more of your precious time. May I sit inthat pretty place; or is it your private bower?" asked Emily, as shedismounted from the wash-bench. 

"Yes, indeed you may. That's mother's resting-place when work isdone. Father made the spring long ago, and I put the ferns there. She can't go rambling round, and she likes pretty things, so wefixed it up for her, and she takes comfort there nights. "

Becky bustled off to the oven with her pies, and Emily roamed awayto the big barn to lie on the hay, enjoying the view down thevalley, as she thought over what she had seen and heard, and verynaturally contrasted her own luxurious and tenderly guarded lifewith this other girl's, so hard and dull and narrow. Working allsummer and teaching all winter in that dismal little school-house, with no change but home cares and carpet-weaving! It looked horribleto pleasure-loving Emily, who led the happy, care-free life ofgirls of her class, with pleasures of all sorts, and a future ofstill greater luxury, variety, and happiness, opening brightlybefore her. 

It worried her to think of any one being contented with such ameagre share of the good things of life, when she was unsatisfied inspite of the rich store showered upon her. She could not understandit, and fell asleep wishing every one could be comfortable, --it wasso annoying to see them grubbing in kitchens, teaching in bleakschool-houses among snow-drifts, and wearing ugly calico gowns. 

A week or two of quiet, country fare and the bracing mountain airworked wonders for the invalid, and every one rejoiced to see thepale cheeks begin to grow round and rosy, the languid eyes tobrighten, and the feeble girl who used to lie on her sofa half theday now go walking about with her alpenstock, eager to explore allthe pretty nooks among the hills. Her mother blessed Mrs. Taylor forsuggesting this wholesome place. The tired "school marms, " as Emilycalled the three young women who were their fellow-boarders, congratulated her as well as themselves on the daily improvement instrength and spirits all felt; and Becky exulted in the marvellouseffects of her native air, aided by mother's good cookery and thecheerful society of the children, whom the good girl considered themost remarkable and lovable youngsters in the world. 

Emily felt like the queen of this little kingdom, and was regardedas such by every one, for with returning health she lost her fretfulways, and living with simple people, soon forgot her girlish airsand vanities, becoming very sweet and friendly with all about her. The children considered her a sort of good fairy who could grantwishes with magical skill, as various gifts plainly proved. The boyswere her devoted servants, ready to run errands, "hitch up" and takeher to drive at any hour, or listen in mute delight when she sang toher guitar in the summer twilight. 

But to Becky she was a special godsend and comfort, for before thefirst month had gone they were good friends, and Emily had made adiscovery which filled her head with brilliant plans for Becky'sfuture, in spite of her mother's warnings, and the sensiblegirl's own reluctance to be dazzled by enthusiastic prophecies anddreams. 

It came about in this way. Some three weeks after the two girls met, Emily went one evening to their favorite trysting-place, --Becky'sbower among the laurels. It was a pretty nook in the shadow of agreat gray bowlder near the head of the green valley which ran downto spread into the wide intervale below. A brook went babbling amongthe stones and grass and sweet-ferns, while all the slope was rosywith laurel-flowers in their times, as the sturdy bushes grewthickly on the hill-side, down the valley, and among the woods thatmade a rich background for these pink and white bouquets arrangedwith Nature's own careless grace. 

Emily liked this spot, and ever since she had been strong enough toreach it, loved to climb up and sit there with book and work, enjoying the lovely panorama before her. Floating mists often gaveher a constant succession of pretty pictures; now a sunny glimpse ofthe distant lake, then the church spire peeping above the hill, or aflock of sheep feeding in the meadow, a gay procession of youngpilgrims winding up the mountain, or a black cloud heavy with acoming storm, welcome because of the glorious rainbow and its shadowwhich would close the pageant. 

Unconsciously the girl grew to feel not only the beauty but thevalue of these quiet hours, to find a new peace, refreshment, andhappiness, bubbling up in her heart as naturally as the brook gushedout among the mossy rocks, and went singing away through hayfieldsand gardens, and by dusty roads, till it met the river and rolled onto the sea. Something dimly stirred in her, and the healing spiritthat haunts such spots did its sweet ministering till the innocentsoul began to see that life was not perfect without labor as well aslove, duty as well as happiness, and that true contentment came fromwithin, not from without. 

On the evening we speak of, she went to wait for Becky, who wouldjoin her as soon as the after-supper chores were done. In the littlecave which held a few books, a dipper, and a birch-bark basket forberries, Emily kept a sketching block and a box of pencils, andoften amused herself by trying to catch some of the lovely scenesbefore her. These efforts usually ended in a humbler attempt, and agood study of an oak-tree, a bit of rock, or a clump of ferns wasthe result. This evening the sunset was so beautiful she could notdraw, and remembering that somewhere in Becky's scrap-book there wasa fine description of such an hour by some poet, she pulled out theshabby old volume, and began to turn over the leaves. 

She had never cared to look at it but once, having read all the bestof its contents in more attractive volumes, so Becky kept it tuckedaway in the farther corner of her rustic closet, and evidentlythought it a safe place to conceal a certain little secret whichEmily now discovered. As she turned the stiff pages filled with allsorts of verses, good, bad, and indifferent, a sheet of paperappeared on which was scribbled these lines in school-girlhandwriting:--

MOUNTAIN--LAUREL

 My bonnie flower, with truest joy Thy welcome face I see, The world grows brighter to my eyes, And summer comes with thee. My solitude now finds a friend, And after each hard day, I in my mountain garden walk, To rest, or sing, or pray. 

 All down the rocky slope is spread Thy veil of rosy snow, And in the valley by the brook, Thy deeper blossoms grow. The barren wilderness grows fair, Such beauty dost thou give; And human eyes and Nature's heart Rejoice that thou dost live. 

 Each year I wait thy coming, dear, Each year I love thee more, For life grows hard, and much I need Thy honey for my store. So, like a hungry bee, I sip Sweet lessons from thy cup, And sitting at a flower's feet, My soul learns to look up. 

 No laurels shall I ever win, No splendid blossoms bear, But gratefully receive and use God's blessed sun and air; And, blooming where my lot is cast, Grow happy and content, Making some barren spot more fair, For a humble life well spent. 

"She wrote it herself! I can't believe it!" said Emily, as she putdown the paper, looking rather startled, for she DID believe it, andfelt as if she had suddenly looked into a fellow-creature's heart. "I thought her just an ordinary girl, and here she is a poet, writing verses that make me want to cry! I don't suppose they AREvery good, but they seem to come right out of her heart, and touchme with the longing and the patience or the piety in them. Well, IAM surprised!" and Emily read the lines again, seeing the faultsmore plainly than before, but still feeling that the girl putherself into them, vainly trying to express what the wild flower wasto her in the loneliness which comes to those who have a littlespark of the divine fire burning in their souls. 

"Shall I tell her I've found it out? I must! and see if I can't gether verses printed. Of course she has more tucked away somewhere. That is what she hums to herself when she's at work, and won't tellme about when I ask. Sly thing! to be so bashful and hide her gift. I'll tease her a bit and see what she says. Oh dear, I wish _I_could do it! Perhaps she'll be famous some day, and then I'll havethe glory of discovering her. "

With that consolation Emily turned over the pages of the ledger andfound several more bits of verse, some very good for an untaughtgirl, others very faulty, but all having a certain strength offeeling and simplicity of language unusual in the effusions of youngmaidens at the sentimental age. 

Emily had a girlish admiration for talent of any kind, and beingfond of poetry, was especially pleased to find that her humblefriend possessed the power of writing it. Of course she exaggeratedBecky's talent, and as she waited for her, felt sure that she haddiscovered a feminine Burns among the New Hampshire hills, for allthe verses were about natural and homely objects, touched intobeauty by sweet words or tender sentiment. She had time to build asplendid castle in the air and settle Becky in it with a crown ofglory on her head, before the quiet figure in a faded sunbonnet cameslowly up the slope with the glow of sunset on a tired but tranquilface. 

"Sit here and have a good rest, while I talk to you, " said Emily, eager to act the somewhat dramatic scene she had planned. Becky sunkupon the red cushion prepared for her, and sat looking down at theanimated speaker, as Emily, perched on a mossy stone before her, began the performance. 

"Becky, did you ever hear of the Goodale children? They lived in thecountry and wrote poetry and grew to be famous. "

"Oh yes, I've read their poems and like 'em very much. Do you know'em?" and Becky looked interested at once. 

"No, but I once met a girl who was something like them, only shedidn't have such an easy time as they did, with a father to help, and a nice Sky-farm, and good luck generally. I've tried to writeverses myself, but I always get into a muddle, and give it up. Thismakes me interested in other girls who CAN do it, and I want to helpmy friend. I'm SURE she has talent, and I'd so like to give her alift in some way. Let me read you a piece of hers and see what youthink of it. "

"Do!" and Beck threw off the sunbonnet, folded her hands round herknees, and composed herself to listen with such perfectunconsciousness of what was coming that Emily both laughed at thejoke and blushed at the liberty she felt she was taking with thepoor girl's carefully hidden secret. 

Becky was sure now that Emily was going to read something of her ownafter this artful introduction, and began to smile as the paper wasproduced and the first four lines read in a tone that was halftimid, half triumphant. Then with a cry she seized and crumpled upthe paper, exclaiming almost fiercely, --

"It's mine! Where did you get it? How dar'st you touch it?"

Emily fell upon her knees with a face and voice so full ofpenitence, pleasure, sympathy, and satisfaction, that Becky's wrathwas appeased before her friend's explanation ended with thesesoothing and delightful words, --

"That's all, dear, and I beg your pardon. But I'm sure you will befamous if you keep on, and I shall yet see a volume of poems byRebecca Moore of Rocky Nook, New Hampshire. "

Becky hid her face as if shame, surprise, wonder, and joy filled herheart too full and made a few happy tears drop on the hands so wornwith hard work, when they ached to be holding a pen and trying torecord the fancies that sung in her brain as ceaselessly as the softsough of the pines or the ripple of the brook murmured in her earwhen she sat here alone. She could not express the vague longingsthat stirred in her soul; she could only feel and dimly strive tounderstand and utter them, with no thought of fame or fortune, --forshe was a humble creature, and never knew that the hardships of herlife were pressing out the virtues of her nature as the tread ofcareless feet crush the sweet perfume from wild herbs. 

Presently she looked up, deeply touched by Emily's words andcaresses, and her blue eyes shone like stars as her face beamed withsomething finer than mere beauty, for the secrets of her innocentheart were known to this friend now, and it was very sweet to acceptthe first draught of confidence and praise. 

"I don't mind much, but I was scared for a minute. No one knows butMother, and she laughs at me, though she don't care if it makes mehappy. I'm glad you like my scribbling, but really I never think orhope of being anybody. I couldn't, you know! but it's real nice tohave you say I MIGHT and to make believe for a while. "

"But why not, Becky? The Goodale girls did, and half the poets inthe world were poor, ignorant people at first, you know. It onlyneeds time and help, and the gift will grow, and people see it; andthen the glory and the money will come, " cried Emily, quite carriedaway by her own enthusiasm and good-will. 

"Could I get any money by these things?" asked Becky, looking at thecrumpled paper lying under a laurel-bush. 

"Of course you could, dear! Let me have some of them, and I'll showyou that I know good poetry when I see it. You will believe if somebank-bills come with the paper the verses appear in, I hope?"

Blind to any harm she might do by exciting vain hopes in hereagerness to cheer and help, Emily made this rash proposal in allgood faith. Meaning to pay for the verses herself if no editor wasfound to accept them. 

Becky looked half bewildered by this brilliant prospect, and took along breath, as if some hand had lifted a heavy burden a little wayfrom her weary back, for stronger than ambition for herself was lovefor her family, and the thought of help for them was sweeter thanany dream of fame. 

"Yes, I would! oh, if I only COULD, I'd be the happiest girl in theworld! But I can't believe it, Emily. I heard Mrs. Taylor say thatonly the VERY BEST poetry paid, and mine is poor stuff, I know wellenough. "

"Of course it needs polishing and practice and all that; but I'msure it is oceans better than half the sentimental twaddle we see inthe papers, and I KNOW that some of those pieces ARE paid for, because I have a friend who is in a newspaper office, and he told meso. Yours are quaint and simple and some very original. I'm surethat ballad of the old house is lovely, and I want to send it toWhittier. Mamma knows him; it's the sort he likes, and he is so kindto every one, he will criticise it, and be interested when she tellshim about you. Do let me!"

"I never could in the world! It would be so bold, Mother would thinkI was crazy. I love Mr. Whittier, but I wouldn't dar'st to show himmy nonsense, though reading his beautiful poetry helps me ever somuch. "

Becky looked and spoke as if her breath had been taken away by thisaudacious proposal; and yet a sudden delicious hope sprung up in herheart that there might, perhaps, be a spark of real virtue in thelittle fire which burned within her, warming and brightening herdull life. 

"Let us ask Mamma; she will tell us what is best to do first, forshe knows all sorts of literary people, and won't say any more thanyou want her to. I'm bent on having my way, Becky, and the moremodest you are, the surer I am that you are a genius. Real geniusesalways ARE shy; so you just make up your mind to give me the best ofyour pieces, and let me prove that I'm right. "

It was impossible to resist such persuasive words, and Becky soonyielded to the little siren who was luring her out of her safe, small pool into the deeper water that looks so blue and smooth tillthe venturesome paper boats get into the swift eddies, or runaground upon the rocks and sandbars. 

The greatest secrecy was to be preserved, and no one but Mrs. Spenser was to know what a momentous enterprise was afoot. The girlssat absorbed in their brilliant plans till it was nearly dark, thengroped their way home hand in hand, leaving another secret for thelaurels to keep and dream over through their long sleep, for blossomtime was past, and the rosy faces turning pale in the July sun. 

Neither of the girls forgot the talk they had that night in Emily'sroom, for she led her captive straight to her mother, and told herall their plans and aspirations without a moment's delay. 

Mrs. Spenser much regretted her daughter's well-meant enthusiasm, but fearing harm might be done, very wisely tried to calm theinnocent excitement of both by the quiet matter-of-fact way in whichshe listened to the explanation Emily gave her, read the versestimidly offered by Becky, and then said, kindly but firmly:--

"This is not poetry, my dear girls, though the lines run smoothlyenough, and the sentiment is sweet. It would bring neither fame normoney, and Rebecca puts more real truth, beauty, and poetry into herdutiful daily life than in any lines she has written. "

"We had such a lovely plan for Becky to come to town with me, andsee the world, and write, and be famous. How can you spoil it all?"

"My foolish little daughter, I must prevent you from spoiling thisgood girl's life by your rash projects. Becky will see that I amwise, though you do not, and SHE will understand this verse from myfavorite poet, and lay it to heart:--

 "So near is grandeur to our Dust, So nigh is God to man, When Duty whispers low, 'Thou must!' The youth replies, 'I can!'"

"I do! I will! please go on, " and Becky's troubled eyes grew clearand steadfast as she took the words home to herself, resolving tolive up to them. 

"Oh, mother!" cried Emily, thinking her very cruel to nip theirbudding hopes in this way. 

"I know you won't believe it now, nor be able to see all that I meanperhaps, but time will teach you both to own that I am right, and tovalue the substance more than the shadow, " continued Mrs. Spenser. "Many girls write verses and think they are poets; but it is only apassing mood, and fortunately for the world, and for them also, itsoon dies out in some more genuine work or passion. Very few havethe real gift, and those to whom it IS given wait and work andslowly reach the height of their powers. Many delude themselves, andtry to persuade the world that they can sing; but it is waste oftime, and ends in disappointment, as the mass of sentimental rubbishwe all see plainly proves. Write your little verses, my dear, whenthe spirit moves, --it is a harmless pleasure, a real comfort, and agood lesson for you; but do not neglect higher duties or deceiveyourself with false hopes and vain dreams. 'First live, then write, 'is a good motto for ambitious young people. A still better for usall is, 'Do the duty that lies nearest;' and the faithfulperformance of that, no matter how humble it is, will be the besthelp for whatever talent may lie hidden in us, ready to bloom whenthe time comes. Remember this, and do not let my enthusiastic girl'swell-meant but unwise prophecies and plans unsettle you, and unfityou for the noble work you are doing. "

"Thank you, ma'am! I WILL remember; I know you are right, and Iwon't be upset by foolish notions. I never imagined before that ICOULD be a poet; but it sounded so sort of splendid, I thought maybeit MIGHT happen to me, by-and-by, as it does to other folks. Iwon't lot on it, but settle right down and do my work cheerful. "

As she listened, Becky's face had grown pale and serious, even alittle sad; but as she answered, her eyes shone, her lips were firm, and her plain face almost beautiful with the courage and confidencethat sprung up within her. She saw the wisdom of her friend'sadvice, felt the kindness of showing her the mistake frankly, andwas grateful for it, --conscious in her own strong, loving heart thatit was better to live and work for others than to dream and strivefor herself alone. 

Mrs. Spenser was both surprised and touched by the girl's look, words, and manner, and her respect much increased by the courage andgood temper with which she saw her lovely castle in the air vanishlike smoke, leaving the hard reality looking harder than ever, afterthis little flight into the fairy regions of romance. 

She talked long with the girls, and gave them the counsel all eageryoung people need, yet are very slow to accept till experienceteaches them its worth. As the friend of many successful literarypeople, Mrs. Spenser was constantly receiving the confidences ofunfledged scribblers, each of whom was sure that he or she hadsomething valuable to add to the world's literature. Her advice wasalways the same, "Work and wait;" and only now and then was a youngpoet or author found enough in earnest to do both, and thereby proveto themselves and others that either they DID possess power, or didnot, and so settle the question forever. "First live, then write, "proved a quietus for many, and "Do the duty that lies nearest"satisfied the more sincere that they could be happy without fame. So, thanks to this wise and kindly woman, a large number of worthyyouths and maidens ceased dreaming and fell to work, and the worldwas spared reams of feeble verse and third-rate romances. 

After that night Becky spent fewer spare hours in her nest, and morein reading with Emily, who lent her books and helped her tounderstand them, --both much assisted by Mrs. Spenser, who markedpassages, suggested authors, and explained whatever puzzled them. Very happy bits of time were these, and very precious to both, asEmily learned to see and appreciate the humbler, harder side oflife, and Becky got delightful glimpses into the beautiful world ofart, poetry, and truth, which gave her better food for heart andbrain than sentimental musings or blind efforts to satisfy thehunger of her nature with verse-writing. 

Their favorite places were in the big barn, on the front porch, orby the spring. This last was Emily's schoolroom, and she both taughtand learned many useful lessons there. 

One day as Becky came to rest a few minutes and shell peas, Emilyput down her book to help; and as the pods flew, she said, noddingtoward the delicate ferns that grew thickly all about the trough, the rock, and the grassy bank, --

"We have these in our greenhouse, but I never saw them growing wildbefore, and I don't find them anywhere up here. How did you get suchbeauties, and make them do so well?"

"Oh, they grow in nooks on the mountain hidden under the tallerferns, and in sly corners. But they don't grow like these, and diesoon unless transplanted and taken good care of. They always make methink of you, --so graceful and delicate, and just fit to live withtea-roses in a hot-house, and go to balls in beautiful ladies'bokays, " answered Becky, smiling at her new friend, always sodainty, and still so delicate in spite of the summer's rustication. 

"Thank you! I suppose I shall never be very strong or able to domuch; so I AM rather like a fern, and do live in a conservatory allwinter, as I can't go out a great deal. An idle thing, Becky!" andEmily sighed, for she was born frail, and even her tenderly guardedlife could not give her the vigor of other girls. But the sighchanged to a smile as she added, --

"If I am like the fern, you are like your own laurel, --strong, rosy, and able to grow anywhere. I want to carry a few roots home, and seeif they won't grow in my garden. Then you will have me, and I you. Ionly hope YOUR plant will do as well as mine does here. "

"It won't! ever so many folks have taken roots away, but they neverthrive in gardens as they do on the hills where they belong. So Itell 'em to leave the dear bushes alone, and come up here and enjoy'em in their own place. You might keep a plant of it in yourhot-house, and it would blow I dare say; but it would never be halfso lovely as my acres of them, and I guess it would only make yousad, seeing it so far from home, and pale and pining, " answeredBecky, with her eyes on the green slopes where the mountain-laurelbraved the wintry snow, and came out fresh and early in the spring. 

"Then I'll let it alone till I come next summer. But don't you takeany of the fern into the house in the cold weather? I should thinkit would grow in your sunny windows, " said Emily, pleased by thefancy that it resembled herself. 

"I tried it, but it needs a damp place, and our cold nights kill it. No, it won't grow in our old house; but I cover it with leaves, andthe little green sprouts come up as hearty as can be out here. Theshade, the spring, the shelter of the rock, keep it alive, you see, so it's no use trying to move it. "

Both sat silent for a few minutes, as their hands moved briskly andthey thought of their different lots. An inquisitive ray of sunshinepeeped in at them, touching Becky's hair till it shone like redgold. The same ray dazzled Emily's eyes; she put up her hand to pullher hat-brim lower, and touched the little curls on her forehead. This recalled her pet grievance, and made her say impatiently, asshe pushed the thick short locks under her net, --

"My hair is SUCH a plague! I don't know what I am to do when I gointo society by-and-by. This crop is so unbecoming, and I can'tmatch my hair anywhere, it is such a peculiar shade of golden-auburn. "

"It's a pretty color, and I think the curls much nicer than aboughten switch, " said Becky, quite unconscious that her ownluxuriant locks were of the true Titian red, and would be muchadmired by artistic eyes. 

"I don't! I shall send to Paris to match it, and then wear a braidround my head as you do sometimes. I suppose it will cost a fortune, but I WON'T have a strong-minded crop. A friend of mine got a lovelygolden switch for fifty dollars. "

"My patience! do folks pay like that for false hair?" asked Becky, amazed. 

"Yes, indeed. White hair costs a hundred, I believe, if it is long. Why, you could get ever so much for yours if you ever wanted to sellit. I'll take part of it, for in a little while mine will be asdark, and I'd like to wear your hair, Becky. "

"Don't believe Mother would let me. She is very proud of our redheads. If I ever do cut it, you shall have some. I may be hard upand glad to sell it perhaps. My sakes! I smell the cake burning!"and off flew Becky to forget the chat in her work. 

Emily did not forget it, and hoped Becky would be tempted, for shereally coveted one of the fine braids, but felt shy about asking thepoor girl for even a part of her one beauty. 

So July and August passed pleasantly and profitably to both girls, and in September they were to part. No more was said about poetry;and Emily soon became so interested in the busy, practical lifeabout her that her own high-flown dreams were quite forgotten, andshe learned to enjoy the sweet prose of daily labor. 

One breezy afternoon as she and her mother sat resting from a strollon the way-side bank among the golden-rod and asters, they saw Beckycoming up the long hill with a basket on her arm. She walked slowly, as if lost in thought, yet never missed pushing aside with a decidedgesture of her foot every stone that lay in her way. There were manyin that rocky path, but Becky left it smoother as she climbed, andpaused now and then to send some especially sharp or large onespinning into the grassy ditch beside the road. 

"Isn't she a curious girl, Mamma? so tired after her long walk totown, yet so anxious not to leave a stone in the way, " said Emily, as they watched her slow approach. 

"A very interesting one to me, dear, because under that humbleexterior lies a fine, strong character. It is like Becky to clearher way, even up a dusty hill where the first rain will wash outmany more stones. Let us ask her why she does it. I've observed thehabit before, and always meant to ask, " replied Mrs. Spenser. 

"Here we are! Come and rest a minute, Becky, and tell us if you mendroads as well as ever so many other things;" called Emily, beckoningwith a smile, as the girl looked up and saw them. 

"Oh, it's a trick of mine; I caught it of Father when I was a littlething, and do it without knowing it half the time, " said Becky, sinking down upon a mossy rock, as if rest were welcome. 

"Why did he do it?" asked Emily, who knew that her friend loved totalk of her father. 

"Well, it's a family failing I guess, for his father did the same, only HE began with his farm and let the roads alone. The land usedto be pretty much all rocks up here, you know, and farmers had toclear the ground if they wanted crops. It was a hard fight, and tooka sight of time and patience to grub out roots and blast rocks andpick up stones that seemed to grow faster than anything else. Butthey kept on, and now see!"

As she spoke, Becky pointed proudly to the wide, smooth fields lyingbefore them, newly shorn of grass or grain, waving with corn, orrich in garden crops ripening for winter stores. Here and there wererocky strips unreclaimed, as if to show what had been done; andmassive stone walls surrounded pasture, field, and garden. 

"A good lesson in patience and perseverance, my dear, and does greathonor to the men who made the wilderness blossom like the rose, "said Mrs. Spenser. 

"Then you can't wonder that they loved it and we want to keep it. Iguess it would break Mother's heart to sell this place, and we areall working as hard as ever we can to pay off the mortgage. Thenwe'll be just the happiest family in New Hampshire, " said Becky, fondly surveying the old farm-house, the rocky hill, and theprecious fields won from the forest. 

"You never need fear to lose it; we will see to that if you will letus, " began Mrs. Spenser, who was both a rich and a generous woman. 

"Oh, thank you! but we won't need help I guess; and if we should, Mrs. Taylor made us promise to come to her, " cried Becky. "She foundus just in our hardest time, and wanted to fix things then; but weare proud in our way, and Mother said she'd rather work it off ifshe could. Then what did that dear lady do but talk to the folksround here, and show 'em how a branch railroad down to Peeksvillewould increase the value of the land, and how good this valley wouldbe for strawberries and asparagus and garden truck if we could onlyget it to market. Some of the rich men took up the plan, and we hopeit will be done this fall. It will be the making of us, for our landis first-rate for small crops, and the children can help at that, and with a deepot close by it would be such easy work. That's what Icall helping folks to help themselves. Won't it be grand?"

Becky looked so enthusiastic that Emily could not remainuninterested, though market-gardening did not sound very romantic. 

"I hope it will come, and next year we shall see you all hard at it. What a good woman Mrs. Taylor is!"

"Ain't she? and the sad part of it is, she can't do and enjoy allshe wants to, because her health is so poor. She was a country girl, you know, and went to work in the city as waiter in a boarding-house. A rich man fell in love with her and married her, and she took careof him for years, and he left her all his money. She was quite brokendown, but she wanted to make his name loved and honored after hisdeath, as he hadn't done any good while he lived; so she gives awayheaps, and is never tired of helping poor folks and doing all sortsof grand things to make the world better. I call that splendid!"

"So do I, yet it is only what you are doing in a small way, Becky, "said Mrs. Spenser, as the girl paused out of breath. "Mrs. Taylorclears the stones out of people's paths, making their road easier toclimb than hers has been, and leaving behind her fruitful fields forothers to reap. This is a better work than making verses, for it isthe real poetry of life, and brings to those who give themselves toit, no matter in what humble ways, something sweeter than fame andmore enduring than fortune. "

"So it does! I see that now, and know why we love Father as we do, and want to keep what he worked so hard to give us. He used to sayevery stone cleared away was just so much help to the boys; and heused to tell me his plans as I trotted after him round the farm, helping all I could, being the oldest, and like him, he said. "

Becky paused with full eyes, for not even to these good friendscould she ever tell the shifts and struggles in which she hadbravely borne her part during the long hard years that had wrestedthe little homestead from the stony-hearted hills. 

The musical chime of a distant clock reminded her that supper timewas near, and she sprang up as if much refreshed by this pleasantrest by the way-side. As she pulled out her handkerchief, a littleroll of pale blue ribbon fell from her pocket, and Emily caught itup, exclaiming mischievously, "Are you going to make yourself finenext Sunday, when Moses Pennel calls, Becky?"

The girl laughed and blushed as she said, carefully folding up theribbon, --

"I'm going to do something with it that I like a sight better thanthat. Poor Moses won't come any more, I guess. I'm not going toleave Mother till the girls can take my place, and only then toteach, if I can get a good school somewhere near. "

"We shall see!" and Emily nodded wisely. 

"We shall!" and Becky nodded decidedly, as she trudged on up thesteep hill beside Mrs. Spenser, while Emily walked slowly behind, poking every stone she saw into the grass, unmindful of thedetriment to her delicate shoes, being absorbed in a new andcharming idea of trying to follow Mrs. Taylor's example in a smallway. 

A week later the last night came, and just as they were parting forbed, in rushed one of the boys with the exciting news that therailroad surveyors were in town, the folks talking about the grandenterprise, and the fortune of the place made forever. 

Great was the rejoicing in the old farm-house; the boys cheered, thelittle girls danced, the two mothers dropped a happy tear as theyshook each other's hands, and Emily embraced Becky, tenderlyexclaiming, --"There, you dear thing, is a great stone shoved out ofYOUR way, and a clear road to fortune at last; for I shall tell allmy friends to buy your butter and eggs, and fruit and pigs, andeverything you send to market on that blessed railroad. "

"A keg of our best winter butter is going by stage express to-morrowanyway; and when our apples come, we shan't need a railroad to get'em to you, my darling dear, " answered Becky, holding the delicategirl in her arms with a look and gesture half sisterly, halfmotherly, wholly fond and grateful. 

When Emily got to her room, she found that butter and apples werenot all the humble souvenirs offered in return for many comfortablegifts to the whole family. 

On the table, in a pretty birch-bark cover, lay several of Becky'sbest poems neatly copied, as Emily had expressed a wish to keepthem; and round the rustic volume, like a ring of red gold, lay agreat braid of Becky's hair, tied with the pale blue ribbon she hadwalked four miles to buy, that her present might look its best. 

Of course there were more embraces and kisses, and thanks and lovingwords, before Emily at last lulled herself to sleep planning aChristmas box, which should supply every wish and want of the entirefamily if she could find them out. 

Next morning they parted; but these were not mere summer friends, and they did not lose sight of one another, though their ways layfar apart. Emily had found a new luxury to bring more pleasure intolife, a new medicine to strengthen soul and body; and in helpingothers, she helped herself wonderfully. 

Becky went steadily on her dutiful way, till the homestead was free, the lads able to work the farm alone, the girls old enough to fillher place, and the good mother willing to rest at last among herchildren. Then Becky gave herself to teaching, --a noble task, forwhich she was well fitted, and in which she found both profit andpleasure, as she led her flock along the paths from which sheremoved the stumbling-blocks for their feet, as well as for herown. She put her poetry into her life, and made of it "a grand sweetsong" in which beauty and duty rhymed so well that the country girlbecame a more useful, beloved, and honored woman than if she hadtried to sing for fame which never satisfies. 

So each symbolical plant stood in its own place, and lived itsappointed life. The delicate fern grew in the conservatory amongtea-roses and camelias, adding grace to every bouquet of which itformed a part, whether it faded in a ball-room, or was carefullycherished by some poor invalid's bed-side, --a frail thing, yet withtenacious roots and strong stem, nourished by memories of the rockynook where it had learned its lesson so well. The mountain-laurelclung to the bleak hillside, careless of wintry wind and snow, asits sturdy branches spread year by year, with its evergreen leavesfor Christmas cheer, its rosy flowers for spring-time, its freshbeauty free to all as it clothed the wild valley with a charm thatmade a little poem of the lovely spot where the pines whispered, woodbirds sang, and the hidden brook told the sweet message itbrought from the mountain-top where it was born. 

The End.