Transcriber's note:

 Hyphenation and spelling standardized. Otherwise, archaic and variable spelling was preserved. 

 Missing quotation marks were added to standardize usage. Otherwise, the editor's punctuation style was preserved. 

 Table of Contents' page numbers were updated. 

 Special notation:

 Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). 

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AUNT JO'S SCRAP-BAG

Is now full, and contains

 =I. MY BOYS=, and other stories. =II. SHAWL-STRAPS=. Sketches of a European Trip. =III. CUPID AND CHOW-CHOW=, and other stories. =IV. MY GIRLS=, and other stories. =V. JIMMY'S CRUISE IN THE PINAFORE=, and other stories. =VI. AN OLD-FASHIONED THANKSGIVING=, and other stories. 

_Six volumes neatly bound in cloth. Price, $6. 00. _

ROBERTS BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON. 

[Illustration: AN OLD-FASHIONED THANKSGIVING. 

"Suddenly Tilly threw down the axe, flung open the door, and ranstraight into the arms of the bear. "--PAGE 29. ]

[Illustration: HOW IT ALL HAPPENED. 

Dolly opened the door, and started back with a cry of astonishment atthe lovely spectacle before her. --PAGE 47. ]

 * * * * *

AUNT JO'S SCRAP-BAG. 

AN OLD-FASHIONED THANKSGIVING, Etc. 

[Illustration: SCRAP-BAG, VOL. VI. ]

BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT, AUTHOR OF "LITTLE WOMEN, " "AN OLD-FASHIONED GIRL, " "LITTLE MEN, ""HOSPITAL SKETCHES. "

 BOSTON: ROBERTS BROTHERS. 1882. 

 _Copyright, 1882, _ BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT. 

 UNIVERSITY PRESS: JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE. 

CONTENTS. 

 PAGE. I. AN OLD-FASHIONED THANKSGIVING 7 II. HOW IT ALL HAPPENED 37 III. THE DOLLS' JOURNEY FROM MINNESOTA TO MAINE 53 IV. MORNING-GLORIES 78 V. SHADOW-CHILDREN 104 VI. POPPY'S PRANKS 124 VII. WHAT THE SWALLOWS DID 147 VIII. LITTLE GULLIVER 163 IX. THE WHALE'S STORY 178 X. A STRANGE ISLAND 192 XI. FANCY'S FRIEND 208

 * * * * *

I. 

AN OLD-FASHIONED THANKSGIVING. 

Sixty years ago, up among the New Hampshire hills, lived Farmer Bassett, with a house full of sturdy sons and daughters growing up about him. They were poor in money, but rich in land and love, for the wide acresof wood, corn, and pasture land fed, warmed, and clothed the flock, while mutual patience, affection, and courage made the old farm-house avery happy home. 

November had come; the crops were in, and barn, buttery, and bin wereoverflowing with the harvest that rewarded the summer's hard work. Thebig kitchen was a jolly place just now, for in the great fireplaceroared a cheerful fire; on the walls hung garlands of dried apples, onions, and corn; up aloft from the beams shone crook-necked squashes, juicy hams, and dried venison--for in those days deer still haunted thedeep forests, and hunters flourished. Savory smells were in the air; onthe crane hung steaming kettles, and down among the red embers coppersauce-pans simmered, all suggestive of some approaching feast. 

A white-headed baby lay in the old blue cradle that had rocked sevenother babies, now and then lifting his head to look out, like a round, full moon, then subsided to kick and crow contentedly, and suck the rosyapple he had no teeth to bite. Two small boys sat on the wooden settleshelling corn for popping, and picking out the biggest nuts from thegoodly store their own hands had gathered in October. Four young girlsstood at the long dresser, busily chopping meat, pounding spice, andslicing apples; and the tongues of Tilly, Prue, Roxy, and Rhody went asfast as their hands. Farmer Bassett, and Eph, the oldest boy, were"chorin' 'round" outside, for Thanksgiving was at hand, and all must bein order for that time-honored day. 

To and fro, from table to hearth, bustled buxom Mrs. Bassett, flushedand floury, but busy and blithe as the queen bee of this busy littlehive should be. 

"I do like to begin seasonable and have things to my mind. Thanksgivin'dinners can't be drove, and it does take a sight of victuals to fill allthese hungry stomicks, " said the good woman, as she gave a vigorous stirto the great kettle of cider apple-sauce, and cast a glance ofhousewifely pride at the fine array of pies set forth on the butteryshelves. 

"Only one more day and then it will be time to eat. I didn't take butone bowl of hasty pudding this morning, so I shall have plenty of roomwhen the nice things come, " confided Seth to Sol, as he cracked a largehazel-nut as easily as a squirrel. 

"No need of my starvin' beforehand. _I always_ have room enough, and I'dlike to have Thanksgiving every day, " answered Solomon, gloating like ayoung ogre over the little pig that lay near by, ready for roasting. 

"Sakes alive, I don't, boys! It's a marcy it don't come but once a year. I should be worn to a thread-paper with all this extra work atop of mywinter weavin' and spinnin', " laughed their mother, as she plunged herplump arms into the long bread-trough and began to knead the dough as ifa famine was at hand. 

Tilly, the oldest girl, a red-cheeked, black-eyed lass of fourteen, wasgrinding briskly at the mortar, for spices were costly, and not a grainmust be wasted. Prue kept time with the chopper, and the twins slicedaway at the apples till their little brown arms ached, for all knew howto work, and did so now with a will. 

"I think it's real fun to have Thanksgiving at home. I'm sorry Gran'mais sick, so we can't go there as usual, but I like to mess 'round here, don't you, girls?" asked Tilly, pausing to take a sniff at the spicypestle. 

"It will be kind of lonesome with only our own folks. " "I like to seeall the cousins and aunts, and have games, and sing, " cried the twins, who were regular little romps, and could run, swim, coast and shout aswell as their brothers. 

"I don't care a mite for all that. It will be so nice to eat dinnertogether, warm and comfortable at home, " said quiet Prue, who loved herown cozy nooks like a cat. 

"Come, girls, fly 'round and get your chores done, so we can clear awayfor dinner jest as soon as I clap my bread into the oven, " called Mrs. Bassett presently, as she rounded off the last loaf of brown bread whichwas to feed the hungry mouths that seldom tasted any other. 

"Here's a man comin' up the hill, lively!" "Guess it's Gad Hopkins. Patold him to bring a dezzen oranges, if they warn't too high!" shoutedSol and Seth, running to the door, while the girls smacked their lips atthe thought of this rare treat, and Baby threw his apple overboard, asif getting ready for a new cargo. 

But all were doomed to disappointment, for it was not Gad, with themuch-desired fruit. It was a stranger, who threw himself off his horseand hurried up to Mr. Bassett in the yard, with some brief message thatmade the farmer drop his ax and look so sober that his wife guessed atonce some bad news had come; and crying, "Mother's wuss! I know sheis!" out ran the good woman, forgetful of the flour on her arms and theoven waiting for its most important batch. 

The man said old Mr. Chadwick, down to Keene, stopped him as he passed, and told him to tell Mrs. Bassett her mother was failin' fast, and she'dbetter come to-day. He knew no more, and having delivered his errand herode away, saying it looked like snow and he must be jogging, or hewouldn't get home till night. 

"We must go right off, Eldad. Hitch up, and I'll be ready in less'nno time, " said Mrs. Bassett, wasting not a minute in tears andlamentations, but pulling off her apron as she went in, with her mind ina sad jumble of bread, anxiety, turkey, sorrow, haste, and ciderapple-sauce. 

A few words told the story, and the children left their work to help herget ready, mingling their grief for "Gran'ma" with regrets for the lostdinner. 

"I'm dreadful sorry, dears, but it can't be helped. I couldn't cook noreat no way, now, and if that blessed woman gets better sudden, as shehas before, we'll have cause for thanksgivin', and I'll give you adinner you won't forget in a hurry, " said Mrs. Bassett, as she tied onher brown silk pumpkin-hood, with a sob for the good old mother who hadmade it for her. 

Not a child complained after that, but ran about helpfully, bringingmoccasins, heating the footstone, and getting ready for a long drive, because Gran'ma lived twenty miles away, and there were no railroads inthose parts to whisk people to and fro like magic. By the time the oldyellow sleigh was at the door, the bread was in the oven, and Mrs. Bassett was waiting, with her camlet cloak on, and the baby done up likea small bale of blankets. 

"Now, Eph, you must look after the cattle like a man, and keep up thefires, for there's a storm brewin', and neither the children nor dumbcritters must suffer, " said Mr. Bassett, as he turned up the collar ofhis rough coat and put on his blue mittens, while the old mare shook herbells as if she preferred a trip to Keene to hauling wood all day. 

"Tilly, put extry comfortables on the beds to-night, the wind is sosearchin' up chamber. Have the baked beans and Injun-puddin' for dinner, and whatever you do, don't let the boys git at the mince-pies, or you'llhave them down sick. I shall come back the minute I can leave Mother. Pawill come to-morrer, anyway, so keep snug and be good. I depend on you, my darter; use your jedgment, and don't let nothin' happen whileMother's away. "

"Yes'm, yes'm--good-bye, good-bye!" called the children, as Mrs. Bassettwas packed into the sleigh and driven away, leaving a stream ofdirections behind her. 

Eph, the sixteen-year-old boy, immediately put on his biggest boots, assumed a sober, responsible manner, and surveyed his littleresponsibilities with a paternal air, drolly like his father's. Tillytied on her mother's bunch of keys, rolled up the sleeves of herhomespun gown, and began to order about the younger girls. They soonforgot poor Granny, and found it great fun to keep house all alone, forMother seldom left home, but ruled her family in the good old-fashionedway. There were no servants, for the little daughters were Mrs. Bassett's only maids, and the stout boys helped their father, allworking happily together with no wages but love; learning in the bestmanner the use of the heads and hands with which they were to make theirown way in the world. 

The few flakes that caused the farmer to predict bad weather soonincreased to a regular snow-storm, with gusts of wind, for up among thehills winter came early and lingered long. But the children were busy, gay, and warm in-doors, and never minded the rising gale nor thewhirling white storm outside. 

Tilly got them a good dinner, and when it was over the two elder girlswent to their spinning, for in the kitchen stood the big and littlewheels, and baskets of wool-rolls, ready to be twisted into yarn for thewinter's knitting, and each day brought its stint of work to thedaughters, who hoped to be as thrifty as their mother. 

Eph kept up a glorious fire, and superintended the small boys, whopopped corn and whittled boats on the hearth; while Roxy and Rhodydressed corn-cob dolls in the settle corner, and Bose, the brindledmastiff, lay on the braided mat, luxuriously warming his old legs. Thusemployed, they made a pretty picture, these rosy boys and girls, intheir homespun suits, with the rustic toys or tasks which most childrennowadays would find very poor or tiresome. 

Tilly and Prue sang, as they stepped to and fro, drawing outthe smoothly twisted threads to the musical hum of the greatspinning-wheels. The little girls chattered like magpies over theirdolls and the new bed-spread they were planning to make, all whitedimity stars on a blue calico ground, as a Christmas present to Ma. Theboys roared at Eph's jokes, and had rough and tumble games over Bose, who didn't mind them in the least; and so the afternoon wore pleasantlyaway. 

At sunset the boys went out to feed the cattle, bring in heaps of wood, and lock up for the night, as the lonely farm-house seldom had visitorsafter dark. The girls got the simple supper of brown bread and milk, baked apples, and a doughnut all 'round as a treat. Then they sat beforethe fire, the sisters knitting, the brothers with books or games, forEph loved reading, and Sol and Seth never failed to play a few games ofMorris with barley corns, on the little board they had made themselvesat one corner of the dresser. 

"Read out a piece, " said Tilly, from Mother's chair, where she sat instate, finishing off the sixth woolen sock she had knit that month. 

"It's the old history book, but here's a bit you may like, since it'sabout our folks, " answered Eph, turning the yellow page to look at apicture of two quaintly dressed children in some ancient castle. 

"Yes, read that. I always like to hear about the Lady Matildy I wasnamed for, and Lord Bassett, Pa's great-great-great-grandpa. He's only afarmer now, but it's nice to know that we were somebody two or threehundred years ago, " said Tilly, bridling and tossing her curly head asshe fancied the Lady Matilda might have done. 

"Don't read the queer words, 'cause we don't understand 'em. Tell it, "commanded Roxy, from the cradle, where she was drowsily cuddled withRhody. 

"Well, a long time ago, when Charles the First was in prison, LordBassett was a true friend to him, " began Eph, plunging into his storywithout delay. "The lord had some papers that would have hung a lot ofpeople if the king's enemies got hold of 'em, so when he heard one day, all of a sudden, that soldiers were at the castle-gate to carry himoff, he had just time to call his girl to him, and say: 'I may be goingto my death, but I won't betray my master. There is no time to burn thepapers, and I can not take them with me; they are hidden in the oldleathern chair where I sit. No one knows this but you, and you mustguard them till I come or send you a safe messenger to take them away. Promise me to be brave and silent, and I can go without fear. ' You see, he wasn't afraid to die, but he _was_ to seem a traitor. Lady Matildypromised solemnly, and the words were hardly out of her mouth when themen came in, and her father was carried away a prisoner and sent off tothe Tower. 

"But she didn't cry; she just called her brother, and sat down in thatchair, with her head leaning back on those papers, like a queen, andwaited while the soldiers hunted the house over for 'em: wasn't that asmart girl?" cried Tilly, beaming with pride, for she was named for thisancestress, and knew the story by heart. 

"I reckon she was scared, though, when the men came swearin' in andasked her if she knew anything about it. The boy did his part then, for_he_ didn't know, and fired up and stood before his sister; and he says, says he, as bold as a lion: 'If my lord had told us where the papers be, we would die before we would betray him. But we are children and knownothing, and it is cowardly of you to try to fright us with oaths anddrawn swords!'"

As Eph quoted from the book, Seth planted himself before Tilly, with thelong poker in his hand, saying, as he flourished it valiantly:

"Why didn't the boy take his father's sword and lay about him? I would, if any one was ha'sh to Tilly. "

"You bantam! He was only a bit of a boy, and couldn't do anything. Sitdown and hear the rest of it, " commanded Tilly, with a pat on the yellowhead, and a private resolve that Seth should have the largest piece ofpie at dinner next day, as reward for his chivalry. 

"Well, the men went off after turning the castle out of window, but theysaid they should come again; so faithful Matildy was full of trouble, and hardly dared to leave the room where the chair stood. All day shesat there, and at night her sleep was so full of fear about it, that sheoften got up and went to see that all was safe. The servants thought thefright had hurt her wits, and let her be, but Rupert, the boy, stood byher and never was afraid of her queer ways. She was 'a pious maid, ' thebook says, and often spent the long evenings reading the Bible, with herbrother by her, all alone in the great room, with no one to help herbear her secret, and no good news of her father. At last, word came thatthe king was dead and his friends banished out of England. Then thepoor children were in a sad plight, for they had no mother, and theservants all ran away, leaving only one faithful old man to help them. "

"But the father did come?" cried Roxy, eagerly. 

"You'll see, " continued Eph, half telling, half reading. 

"Matilda was sure he would, so she sat on in the big chair, guarding thepapers, and no one could get her away, till one day a man came with herfather's ring and told her to give up the secret. She knew the ring, butwould not tell until she had asked many questions, so as to be verysure, and while the man answered all about her father and the king, shelooked at him sharply. Then she stood up and said, in a tremble, forthere was something strange about the man: 'Sir, I doubt you in spite ofthe ring, and I will not answer till you pull off the false beard youwear, that I may see your face and know if you are my father's friend orfoe. ' Off came the disguise, and Matilda found it was my lord himself, come to take them with him out of England. He was very proud of thatfaithful girl, I guess, for the old chair still stands in the castle, and the name keeps in the family, Pa says, even over here, where some ofthe Bassetts came along with the Pilgrims. "

"Our Tilly would have been as brave, I know, and she looks like the oldpicter down to Grandma's, don't she, Eph?" cried Prue, who admired herbold, bright sister very much. 

"Well, I think you'd do the settin' part best, Prue, you are so patient. Till would fight like a wild cat, but she can't hold her tongue worth acent, " answered Eph; whereat Tilly pulled his hair, and the story endedwith a general frolic. 

When the moon-faced clock behind the door struck nine, Tilly tucked upthe children under the "extry comfortables, " and having kissed them allaround, as Mother did, crept into her own nest, never minding the littledrifts of snow that sifted in upon her coverlet between the shingles ofthe roof, nor the storm that raged without. 

As if he felt the need of unusual vigilance, old Bose lay down on themat before the door, and pussy had the warm hearth all to herself. Ifany late wanderer had looked in at midnight, he would have seen the fireblazing up again, and in the cheerful glow the old cat blinking heryellow eyes, as she sat bolt upright beside the spinning-wheel, likesome sort of household goblin, guarding the children while they slept. 

When they woke, like early birds, it still snowed, but up the littleBassetts jumped, broke the ice in their pitchers, and went down withcheeks glowing like winter apples, after a brisk scrub and scrambleinto their clothes. Eph was off to the barn, and Tilly soon had a greatkettle of mush ready, which, with milk warm from the cows, made awholesome breakfast for the seven hearty children. 

"Now about dinner, " said the young housekeeper, as the pewter spoonsstopped clattering, and the earthen bowls stood empty. 

"Ma said, have what we liked, but she didn't expect us to have a realThanksgiving dinner, because she won't be here to cook it, and we don'tknow how, " began Prue, doubtfully. 

"I can roast a turkey and make a pudding as well as anybody, I guess. The pies are all ready, and if we can't boil vegetables and so on, wedon't deserve any dinner, " cried Tilly, burning to distinguish herself, and bound to enjoy to the utmost her brief authority. 

"Yes, yes!" cried all the boys, "let's have a dinner anyway; Ma won'tcare, and the good victuals will spoil if they ain't eaten right up. "

"Pa is coming to-night, so we won't have dinner till late; that will bereal genteel and give us plenty of time, " added Tilly, suddenlyrealizing the novelty of the task she had undertaken. 

"Did you ever roast a turkey?" asked Roxy, with an air of deep interest. 

"Should you darst to try?" said Rhody, in an awe-stricken tone. 

"You will see what I can do. Ma said I was to use my jedgment aboutthings, and I'm going to. All you children have got to do is to keep outof the way, and let Prue and me work. Eph, I wish you'd put a fire inthe best room, so the little ones can play in there. We shall want thesettin'-room for the table, and I won't have 'em pickin' 'round when weget things fixed, " commanded Tilly, bound to make her short reign abrilliant one. 

"I don't know about that. Ma didn't tell us to, " began cautious Eph, whofelt that this invasion of the sacred best parlor was a daring step. 

"Don't we always do it Sundays and Thanksgivings? Wouldn't Ma wish thechildren kept safe and warm anyhow? Can I get up a nice dinner with fourrascals under my feet all the time? Come, now, if you want roast turkeyand onions, plum-puddin' and mince-pie, you'll have to do as I tell you, and be lively about it. "

Tilly spoke with such spirit, and her last suggestion was soirresistible, that Eph gave in, and, laughing good-naturedly, trampedaway to heat up the best room, devoutly hoping that nothing seriouswould happen to punish such audacity. 

The young folks delightedly trooped in to destroy the order of that primapartment with housekeeping under the black horse-hair sofa, "horsebackriders" on the arms of the best rocking-chair, and an Indian war-danceall over the well-waxed furniture. Eph, finding the society of thepeaceful sheep and cows more to his mind than that of two excitedsisters, lingered over his chores in the barn as long as possible, andleft the girls in peace. 

Now Tilly and Prue were in their glory, and as soon as the breakfastthings were out of the way, they prepared for a grand cooking-time. Theywere handy girls, though they had never heard of a cooking-school, nevertouched a piano, and knew nothing of embroidery beyond the samplerswhich hung framed in the parlor; one ornamented with a pink mournerunder a blue weeping-willow, the other with this pleasing verse, eachword being done in a different color, which gave the effect of adistracted rainbow:

 "This sampler neat was worked by me, In my twelfth year, Prudence B. "

Both rolled up their sleeves, put on their largest aprons, and got outall the spoons, dishes, pots, and pans they could find, "so as to haveeverything handy, " as Prue said. 

"Now, sister, we'll have dinner at five; Pa will be here by that time ifhe is coming to-night, and be so surprised to find us all ready, for hewon't have had any very nice victuals if Gran'ma is so sick, " said Tillyimportantly. "I shall give the children a piece at noon" (Tilly meantluncheon); "doughnuts and cheese, with apple-pie and cider will please'em. There's beans for Eph; he likes cold pork, so we won't stop to warmit up, for there's lots to do, and I don't mind saying to you I'mdreadful dubersome about the turkey. "

"It's all ready but the stuffing, and roasting is as easy as can be. Ican baste first rate. Ma always likes to have me, I'm so patient andstiddy, she says, " answered Prue, for the responsibility of this greatundertaking did not rest upon her, so she took a cheerful view ofthings. 

"I know, but it's the stuffin' that troubles me, " said Tilly, rubbingher round elbows as she eyed the immense fowl laid out on a platterbefore her. "I don't know how much I want, nor what sort of yarbs to putin, and he's so awful big, I'm kind of afraid of him. "

"I ain't! I fed him all summer, and he never gobbled at _me_. I feelreal mean to be thinking of gobbling him, poor old chap, " laughed Prue, patting her departed pet with an air of mingled affection and appetite. 

"Well, I'll get the puddin' off my mind fust, for it ought to bile allday. Put the big kettle on, and see that the spit is clean, while I getready. "

Prue obediently tugged away at the crane, with its black hooks, fromwhich hung the iron tea-kettle and three-legged pot; then she settledthe long spit in the grooves made for it in the tall andirons, and putthe dripping-pan underneath, for in those days meat was roasted as itshould be, not baked in ovens. 

Meantime Tilly attacked the plum-pudding. She felt pretty sure of comingout right, here, for she had seen her mother do it so many times, itlooked very easy. So in went suet and fruit; all sorts of spice, to besure she got the right ones, and brandy instead of wine. But she forgotboth sugar and salt, and tied it in the cloth so tightly that it had noroom to swell, so it would come out as heavy as lead and as hard as acannon-ball, if the bag did not burst and spoil it all. Happilyunconscious of these mistakes, Tilly popped it into the pot, and proudlywatched it bobbing about before she put the cover on and left it to itsfate. 

"I can't remember what flavorin' Ma puts in, " she said, when she had gother bread well soaked for the stuffing. "Sage and onions and apple-saucego with goose, but I can't feel sure of anything but pepper and salt fora turkey. "

"Ma puts in some kind of mint, I know, but I forget whether it isspearmint, peppermint, or penny-royal, " answered Prue, in a tone ofdoubt, but trying to show her knowledge of "yarbs, " or, at least, oftheir names. 

"Seems to me it's sweet marjoram or summer savory. I guess we'll putboth in, and then we are sure to be right. The best is up garret; yourun and get some, while I mash the bread, " commanded Tilly, diving intothe mess. 

Away trotted Prue, but in her haste she got catnip and wormwood, for thegarret was darkish, and Prue's little nose was so full of the smell ofthe onions she had been peeling, that everything smelt of them. Eager tobe of use, she pounded up the herbs and scattered the mixture with aliberal hand into the bowl. 

"It doesn't smell just right, but I suppose it will when it is cooked, "said Tilly, as she filled the empty stomach, that seemed aching forfood, and sewed it up with the blue yarn, which happened to be handy. She forgot to tie down his legs and wings, but she set him by till hishour came, well satisfied with her work. 

"Shall we roast the little pig, too? I think he'd look nice with anecklace of sausages, as Ma fixed one last Christmas, " asked Prue, elated with their success. 

"I couldn't do it. I loved that little pig, and cried when he waskilled. I should feel as if I was roasting the baby, " answered Tilly, glancing toward the buttery where piggy hung, looking so pink and prettyit certainly did seem cruel to eat him. 

It took a long time to get all the vegetables ready, for, as the cellarwas full, the girls thought they would have every sort. Eph helped, andby noon all was ready for cooking, and the cranberry-sauce, a good dealscorched, was cooling in the lean-to. 

Luncheon was a lively meal, and doughnuts and cheese vanished in suchquantities that Tilly feared no one would have an appetite for hersumptuous dinner. The boys assured her they would be starving by fiveo'clock, and Sol mourned bitterly over the little pig that was not to beserved up. 

"Now you all go and coast, while Prue and I set the table and get outthe best chiny, " said Tilly, bent on having her dinner look well, nomatter what its other failings might be. 

Out came the rough sleds, on went the round hoods, old hats, red cloaks, and moccasins, and away trudged the four younger Bassetts, to disportthemselves in the snow, and try the ice down by the old mill, where thegreat wheel turned and splashed so merrily in the summer-time. 

Eph took his fiddle and scraped away to his heart's content in theparlor, while the girls, after a short rest, set the table and made allready to dish up the dinner when that exciting moment came. It was notat all the sort of table we see now, but would look very plain andcountrified to us, with its green-handled knives and two-pronged steelforks; its red-and-white china, and pewter platters, scoured till theyshone, with mugs and spoons to match, and a brown jug for the cider. The cloth was coarse, but white as snow, and the little maids had seenthe blue-eyed flax grow, out of which their mother wove the linen theyhad watched and watered while it bleached in the green meadow. They hadno napkins and little silver; but the best tankard and Ma's few weddingspoons were set forth in state. Nuts and apples at the corners gave anair, and the place of honor was left in the middle for the oranges yetto come. 

"Don't it look beautiful?" said Prue, when they paused to admire thegeneral effect. 

"Pretty nice, I think. I wish Ma could see how well we can do it, " beganTilly, when a loud howling startled both girls, and sent them flying tothe window. The short afternoon had passed so quickly that twilight hadcome before they knew it, and now, as they looked out through thegathering dusk, they saw four small black figures tearing up the road, to come bursting in, all screaming at once: "The bear, the bear! Eph, get the gun! He's coming, he's coming!"

Eph had dropped his fiddle, and got down his gun before the girls couldcalm the children enough to tell their story, which they did in asomewhat incoherent manner. "Down in the holler, coastin', we heard agrowl, " began Sol, with his eyes as big as saucers. "I see him fustlookin' over the wall, " roared Seth, eager to get his share of honor. 

"Awful big and shaggy, " quavered Roxy, clinging to Tilly, while Rhodyhid in Prue's skirts, and piped out: "His great paws kept clawing at us, and I was so scared my legs would hardly go. "

"We ran away as fast as we could go, and he come growling after us. He'sawful hungry, and he'll eat every one of us if he gets in, " continuedSol, looking about him for a safe retreat. 

"Oh, Eph, don't let him eat us, " cried both little girls, flying upstairs to hide under their mother's bed, as their surest shelter. 

"No danger of that, you little geese. I'll shoot him as soon as hecomes. Get out of the way, boys, " and Eph raised the window to get goodaim. 

"There he is! Fire away, and don't miss!" cried Seth, hastily followingSol, who had climbed to the top of the dresser as a good perch fromwhich to view the approaching fray. 

Prue retired to the hearth as if bent on dying at her post rather thandesert the turkey, now "browning beautiful, " as she expressed it. ButTilly boldly stood at the open window, ready to lend a hand if the enemyproved too much for Eph. 

All had seen bears, but none had ever come so near before, and evenbrave Eph felt that the big brown beast slowly trotting up the door-yardwas an unusually formidable specimen. He was growling horribly, andstopped now and then as if to rest and shake himself. 

"Get the ax, Tilly, and if I should miss, stand ready to keep him offwhile I load again, " said Eph, anxious to kill his first bear in styleand alone; a girl's help didn't count. 

Tilly flew for the ax, and was at her brother's side by the time thebear was near enough to be dangerous. He stood on his hind legs, andseemed to sniff with relish the savory odors that poured out of thewindow. 

"Fire, Eph!" cried Tilly, firmly. 

"Wait till he rears again. I'll get a better shot, then, " answered theboy, while Prue covered her ears to shut out the bang, and the smallboys cheered from their dusty refuge up among the pumpkins. 

But a very singular thing happened next, and all who saw it stoodamazed, for suddenly Tilly threw down the ax, flung open the door, andran straight into the arms of the bear, who stood erect to receive her, while his growlings changed to a loud "Haw, haw!" that startled thechildren more than the report of a gun. 

"It's Gad Hopkins, tryin' to fool us!" cried Eph, much disgusted at theloss of his prey, for these hardy boys loved to hunt, and pridedthemselves on the number of wild animals and birds they could shoot in ayear. 

"Oh, Gad, how could you scare us so?" laughed Tilly, still held fast inone shaggy arm of the bear, while the other drew a dozen oranges fromsome deep pocket in the buffalo-skin coat, and fired them into thekitchen with such good aim that Eph ducked, Prue screamed, and Sol andSeth came down much quicker than they went up. 

"Wal, you see I got upsot over yonder, and the old horse went home whileI was floundering in a drift, so I tied on the buffalers to tote 'emeasy, and come along till I see the children playin' in the holler. Ijest meant to give 'em a little scare, but they run like partridges, andI kep' up the joke to see how Eph would like this sort of company, " andGad haw-hawed again. 

"You'd have had a warm welcome if we hadn't found you out. I'd have puta bullet through you in a jiffy, old chap, " said Eph, coming out toshake hands with the young giant, who was only a year or two older thanhimself. 

"Come in and set up to dinner with us. Prue and I have done it allourselves, and Pa will be along soon, I reckon, " cried Tilly, trying toescape. 

"Couldn't, no ways. My folks will think I'm dead ef I don't get alonghome, sence the horse and sleigh have gone ahead empty. I've done myarrant and had my joke; now I want my pay, Tilly, " and Gad took a heartykiss from the rosy cheeks of his "little sweetheart, " as he called her. His own cheeks tingled with the smart slap she gave him as she ranaway, calling out that she hated bears and would bring her ax next time. 

"I ain't afeared; your sharp eyes found me out; and ef you run into abear's arms you must expect a hug, " answered Gad, as he pushed back therobe and settled his fur cap more becomingly. 

"I should have known you in a minute if I hadn't been asleep when thegirls squalled. You did it well, though, and I advise you not to try itagain in a hurry, or you'll get shot, " said Eph, as they parted, herather crestfallen and Gad in high glee. 

"My sakes alive--the turkey is burnt one side, and the kettles havebiled over so the pies I put to warm are all ashes!" scolded Tilly, asthe flurry subsided and she remembered her dinner. 

"Well, I can't help it. I couldn't think of victuals when I expected tobe eaten alive myself, could I?" pleaded poor Prue, who had tumbled intothe cradle when the rain of oranges began. 

Tilly laughed, and all the rest joined in, so good humor was restored, and the spirits of the younger ones were revived by sucks from the oneorange which passed from hand to hand with great rapidity, while theolder girls dished up the dinner. They were just struggling to get thepudding out of the cloth when Roxy called out, "Here's Pa!"

"There's folks with him, " added Rhody. 

"Lots of 'em! I see two big sleighs chock full, " shouted Seth, peeringthrough the dusk. 

"It looks like a semintary. Guess Gramma's dead and come up to be buriedhere, " said Sol in a solemn tone. This startling suggestion made Tilly, Prue, and Eph hasten to look out, full of dismay at such an ending oftheir festival. 

"If that is a funeral, the mourners are uncommon jolly, " said Eph, drily, as merry voices and loud laughter broke the white silencewithout. 

"I see Aunt Cinthy, and Cousin Hetty--and there's Mose and Amos. I dodeclare, Pa's bringin' 'em all home to have some fun here, " cried Prue, as she recognized one familiar face after another. 

"Oh, my patience! Ain't I glad I got dinner, and don't I hope it willturn out good!" exclaimed Tilly, while the twins pranced with delight, and the small boys roared:

"Hooray for Pa! Hooray for Thanksgivin'!"

The cheer was answered heartily, and in came Father, Mother, Baby, auntsand cousins, all in great spirits, and all much surprised to find such afestive welcome awaiting them. 

"Ain't Gran'ma dead at all?" asked Sol, in the midst of the kissing andhand-shaking. 

"Bless your heart, no! It was all a mistake of old Mr. Chadwick's. He'sas deaf as an adder, and when Mrs. Brooks told him Mother was mendin'fast, and she wanted me to come down to-day, certain sure, he got themessage all wrong, and give it to the fust person passin' in such a wayas to scare me 'most to death, and send us down in a hurry. Mother wassittin' up as chirk as you please, and dreadful sorry you didn't allcome. "

"So, to keep the house quiet for her, and give you a taste of the fun, your Pa fetched us all up to spend the evenin', and we are goin' to havea jolly time on't, to jedge by the looks of things, " said Aunt Cinthy, briskly finishing the tale when Mrs. Bassett paused for want of breath. 

"What in the world put it into your head we was comin', and set you togettin' up such a supper?" asked Mr. Bassett, looking about him, wellpleased and much surprised at the plentiful table. 

Tilly modestly began to tell, but the others broke in and sang herpraises in a sort of chorus, in which bears, pigs, pies, and orangeswere oddly mixed. Great satisfaction was expressed by all, and Tilly andPrue were so elated by the commendation of Ma and the aunts, that theyset forth their dinner, sure everything was perfect. 

But when the eating began, which it did the moment wraps were off, thentheir pride got a fall; for the first person who tasted the stuffing (itwas big Cousin Mose, and that made it harder to bear) nearly choked overthe bitter morsel. 

"Tilly Bassett, whatever made you put wormwood and catnip in yourstuffin'?" demanded Ma, trying not to be severe, for all the rest werelaughing, and Tilly looked ready to cry. 

"I did it, " said Prue, nobly taking all the blame, which caused Pa tokiss her on the spot, and declare that it didn't do a might of harm, forthe turkey was all right. 

"I never see onions cooked better. All the vegetables is well done, andthe dinner a credit to you, my dears, " declared Aunt Cinthy, with hermouth full of the fragrant vegetable she praised. 

The pudding was an utter failure, in spite of the blazing brandy inwhich it lay--as hard and heavy as one of the stone balls on SquireDunkin's great gate. It was speedily whisked out of sight, and all fellupon the pies, which were perfect. But Tilly and Prue were muchdepressed, and didn't recover their spirits till the dinner was over andthe evening fun well under way. 

"Blind-man's buff, " "Hunt the slipper, " "Come, Philander, " and otherlively games soon set every one bubbling over with jollity, and when Ephstruck up "Money Musk" on his fiddle, old and young fell into theirplaces for a dance. All down the long kitchen they stood, Mr. And Mrs. Bassett at the top, the twins at the bottom, and then away they went, heeling and toeing, cutting pigeon-wings, and taking their steps in away that would convulse modern children with their new-fangled rompscalled dancing. Mose and Tilly covered themselves with glory by thevigor with which they kept it up, till fat Aunt Cinthy fell into achair, breathlessly declaring that a very little of such exercise wasenough for a woman of her "heft. "

Apples and cider, chat and singing, finished the evening, and after agrand kissing all round, the guests drove away in the clear moonlightwhich came just in time to cheer their long drive. 

When the jingle of the last bell had died away, Mr. Bassett saidsoberly, as they stood together on the hearth: "Children, we havespecial cause to be thankful that the sorrow we expected was changedinto joy, so we'll read a chapter 'fore we go to bed, and give thankswhere thanks is due. "

Then Tilly set out the light-stand with the big Bible on it, and acandle on each side, and all sat quietly in the fire-light, smiling asthey listened with happy hearts to the sweet old words that fit alltimes and seasons so beautifully. 

When the good-nights were over, and the children in bed, Prue put herarm around Tilly and whispered tenderly, for she felt her shake, and wassure she was crying:

"Don't mind about the old stuffin' and puddin', deary--nobody cared, andMa said we really did do surprisin' well for such young girls. "

The laughter Tilly was trying to smother broke out then, and was soinfectious, Prue could not help joining her, even before she knew thecause of the merriment. 

"I was mad about the mistakes, but don't care enough to cry. I'mlaughing to think how Gad fooled Eph and I found him out. I thought Moseand Amos would have died over it when I told them, it was so funny, "explained Tilly, when she got her breath. 

"I was so scared that when the first orange hit me, I thought it was abullet, and scrabbled into the cradle as fast as I could. It was realmean to frighten the little ones so, " laughed Prue, as Tilly gave agrowl. 

Here a smart rap on the wall of the next room caused a sudden lull inthe fun, and Mrs. Bassett's voice was heard, saying warningly, "Girls, go to sleep immediate, or you'll wake the baby. "

"Yes'm, " answered two meek voices, and after a few irrepressiblegiggles, silence reigned, broken only by an occasional snore from theboys, or the soft scurry of mice in the buttery, taking their part inthis old-fashioned Thanksgiving. 

II. 

HOW IT ALL HAPPENED. 

It was a small room, with nothing in it but a bed, two chairs, and a bigchest. A few little gowns hung on the wall, and the only picture was thewintry sky, sparkling with stars, framed by the uncurtained window. Butthe moon, pausing to peep, saw something pretty and heard somethingpleasant. Two heads in little round nightcaps lay on one pillow, twopairs of wide-awake blue eyes stared up at the light, and two tongueswere going like mill clappers. 

"I'm so glad we got our shirts done in time! It seemed as if we nevershould, and I don't think six cents is half enough for a great redflannel thing with four button-holes--do you?" said one little voice, rather wearily. 

"No; but then we each made four, and fifty cents is a good deal ofmoney. Are you sorry we didn't keep our quarters for ourselves?" askedthe other voice, with an under-tone of regret in it. 

"Yes, I am, till I think how pleased the children will be with our tree, for they don't expect anything, and will be so surprised. I wish we hadmore toys to put on it, for it looks so small and mean with only threeor four things. "

"It won't hold any more, so I wouldn't worry about it. The toys are veryred and yellow, and I guess the babies won't know how cheap they are, but like them as much as if they cost heaps of money. "

This was a cheery voice, and as it spoke the four blue eyes turnedtoward the chest under the window, and the kind moon did her best tolight up the tiny tree standing there. A very pitiful little tree itwas--only a branch of hemlock in an old flower-pot, propped up with bitsof coal, and hung with a few penny toys earned by the patient fingers ofthe elder sisters, that the little ones should not be disappointed. 

But in spite of the magical moonlight the broken branch, with its scantysupply of fruit, looked pathetically poor, and one pair of eyes filledslowly with tears, while the other pair lost their happy look, as if acloud had come over the sunshine. 

"Are you crying, Dolly?"

"Not much, Polly. "

"What makes you, dear?"

"I didn't know how poor we were till I saw the tree, and then I couldn'thelp it, " sobbed the elder sister, for at twelve she already knewsomething of the cares of poverty, and missed the happiness that seemedto vanish out of all their lives when father died. 

"It's dreadful! I never thought we'd have to earn our tree, and only beable to get a broken branch, after all, with nothing on it but threesticks of candy, two squeaking dogs, a red cow, and an ugly bird withone feather in its tail;" and overcome by a sudden sense of destitution, Polly sobbed even more despairingly than Dolly. 

"Hush, dear; we must cry softly, or mother will hear, and come up, andthen we shall have to tell. You know we said we wouldn't seem to mindnot having any Christmas, she felt so sorry about it. "

"I _must_ cry, but I'll be quiet. "

So the two heads went under the pillow for a few minutes, and not asound betrayed them as the little sisters cried softly in one another'sarms, lest mother should discover that they were no longer carelesschildren, but brave young creatures trying to bear their share of theburden cheerfully. 

When the shower was over, the faces came out shining like roses afterrain, and the voices went on again as before. 

"Don't you wish there really was a Santa Claus, who knew what we wanted, and would come and put two silver half-dollars in our stockings, so wecould go and see _Puss in Boots_ at the Museum to-morrow afternoon?"

"Yes, indeed; but we didn't hang up any stockings, you know, becausemother had nothing to put in them. It does seem as if rich people mightthink of poor people now and then. Such little bits of things wouldmake us happy, and it couldn't be much trouble to take two small girlsto the play, and give them candy now and then. "

"_I_ shall when I'm rich, like Mr. Chrome and Miss Kent. I shall goround every Christmas with a big basket of goodies, and give _all_ thepoor children some. "

"P'r'aps if we sew ever so many flannel shirts we may be rich by-and-by. I should give mother a new bonnet first of all, for I heard Miss Kentsay no lady would wear such a shabby one. Mrs. Smith said fine bonnetsdidn't make real ladies. I like her best, but I do want a locket likeMiss Kent's. "

"I should give mother some new rubbers, and then I should buy a whiteapron, with frills like Miss Kent's, and bring home nice bunches ofgrapes and good things to eat, as Mr. Chrome does. I often smell them, but he never gives _me_ any; he only says, 'Hullo, chick!' and I'drather have oranges any time. "

"It will take us a long while to get rich, I'm afraid. It makes me tiredto think of it. I guess we'd better go to sleep now, dear. "

"Good-night, Dolly. "

"Good-night, Polly. "

Two soft kisses were heard, a nestling sound followed, and presently thelittle sisters lay fast asleep cheek against cheek, on the pillow wetwith their tears, never dreaming what was going to happen to themto-morrow. 

Now Miss Kent's room was next to theirs, and as she sat sewing she couldhear the children's talk, for they soon forgot to whisper. At first shesmiled, then she looked sober, and when the prattle ceased she said toherself, as she glanced about her pleasant chamber:

"Poor little things! they think I'm rich, and envy me, when I'm only amilliner earning my living. I ought to have taken more notice of them, for their mother has a hard time, I fancy, but never complains. I'msorry they heard what I said, and if I knew how to do it withoutoffending her, I'd trim a nice bonnet for a Christmas gift, for she _is_a lady, in spite of her old clothes. I can give the children some of thethings they want anyhow, and I will. The idea of those mites making afortune out of shirts at six cents apiece!"

Miss Kent laughed at the innocent delusion, but sympathized with herlittle neighbors, for she knew all about hard times. She had good wagesnow, but spent them on herself, and liked to be fine rather than neat. Still, she was a good-hearted girl, and what she had overheard set herto thinking soberly, then to acting kindly, as we shall see. 

"If I hadn't spent all my money on my dress for the party to-morrownight, I'd give each of them a half-dollar. As I can not, I'll hunt upthe other things they wanted, for it's a shame they shouldn't have a bitof Christmas, when they tried so hard to please the little ones. "

As she spoke she stirred about her room, and soon had a white apron, anold carnelian heart on a fresh blue ribbon, and two papers of bonbonsready. As no stockings were hung up, she laid a clean towel on the floorbefore the door, and spread forth the small gifts to look their best. 

Miss Kent was so busy that she did not hear a step come quietly upstairs, and Mr. Chrome, the artist, peeped at her through the balusters, wondering what she was about. He soon saw, and watched her withpleasure, thinking that she never looked prettier than now. 

Presently she caught him at it, and hastened to explain, telling whatshe had heard, and how she was trying to atone for her past neglect ofthese young neighbors. Then she said good-night, and both went intotheir rooms, she to sleep happily, and he to smoke as usual. 

But his eye kept turning to some of the "nice little bundles" that layon his table, as if the story he had heard suggested how he might followMiss Kent's example. I rather think he would not have disturbed himselfif he had not heard the story told in such a soft voice, with a pair ofbright eyes full of pity looking into his, for little girls were notparticularly interesting to him, and he was usually too tired to noticethe industrious creatures toiling up and down stairs on various errands, or sewing at the long red seams. 

Now that he knew something of their small troubles, he felt as if itwould please Miss Kent, and be a good joke, to do his share of thepretty work she had begun. 

So presently he jumped up, and, opening his parcels, took out twooranges and two bunches of grapes, then he looked up two silverhalf-dollars, and stealing into the hall, laid the fruit upon the towel, and the money atop of the oranges. This addition improved the displayvery much, and Mr. Chrome was stealing back, well pleased, when his eyefell on Miss Kent's door, and he said to himself, "She too shall have alittle surprise, for she is a dear, kind-hearted soul. "

In his room was a prettily painted plate, and this he filled with greenand purple grapes, tucked a sentimental note underneath, and leaving iton her threshold, crept away as stealthily as a burglar. 

The house was very quiet when Mrs. Smith, the landlady, came up to turnoff the gas. "Well, upon my word, here's fine doings, to be sure!" shesaid, when she saw the state of the upper hall. "Now I wouldn't havethought it of Miss Kent, she is such a giddy girl, nor of Mr. Chrome, heis so busy with his own affairs. I meant to give those children each acake to-morrow, they are such good little things. I'll run down and getthem now, as my contribution to this fine set out. "

Away trotted Mrs. Smith to her pantry, and picked out a couple oftempting cakes, shaped like hearts and full of plums. There was a goodlyarray of pies on the shelves, and she took two of them, saying, as sheclimbed the stairs again, "They remembered the children, so I'llremember them, and have my share of the fun. "

So up went the pies, for Mrs. Smith had not much to give, and her spiritwas generous, though her pastry was not of the best. It looked verydroll to see pies sitting about on the thresholds of closed doors, butthe cakes were quite elegant, and filled up the corners of the towelhandsomely, for the apron lay in the middle, with the oranges right andleft, like two sentinels in yellow uniforms. 

It was very late when the flicker of a candle came up stairs, and a palelady, with a sweet sad face, appeared, bringing a pair of red and a pairof blue mittens for her Dolly and Polly. Poor Mrs. Blake did have a hardtime, for she stood all day in a great store that she might earn breadfor the poor children who staid at home and took care of one another. Her heart was very heavy that night, because it was the first Christmasshe had ever known without gifts and festivity of some sort. But Petkin, the youngest child, had been ill, times were very hard, the littlemouths gaped for food like the bills of hungry birds, and there was notender mate to help fill them. 

If any elves had been hovering about the dingy hall just then, theywould have seen the mother's tired face brighten beautifully when shediscovered the gifts, and found that her little girls had been so kindlyremembered. Something more brilliant than the mock diamonds in MissKent's best earrings fell and glittered on the dusty floor as Mrs. Blakeadded the mittens to the other things, and went to her lonely roomagain, smiling as she thought how she could thank them all in a sweetand simple way. 

Her windows were full of flowers, for the delicate tastes of the poorlady found great comfort in their beauty. "I have nothing else to give, and these will show how grateful I am, " she said, as she rejoiced thatthe scarlet geraniums were so full of gay clusters, the whitechrysanthemum stars were all out, and the pink roses at their loveliest. 

They slept now, dreaming of a sunny morrow as they sat safely shelteredfrom the bitter cold. But that night was their last, for a gentle handcut them all, and soon three pretty nosegays stood in a glass, waitingfor dawn, to be laid at three doors, with a few grateful words whichwould surprise and delight the receivers, for flowers were rare in thosehard-working lives, and kind deeds often come back to the givers infairer shapes than they go. 

Now one would think that there had been gifts enough, and no more couldpossibly arrive, since all had added his or her mite except Betsey, themaid, who was off on a holiday, and the babies fast asleep in theirtrundle-bed, with nothing to give but love and kisses. Nobody dreamedthat the old cat would take it into her head that her kittens were indanger, because Mrs. Smith had said she thought they were nearly oldenough to be given away. But she must have understood, for when all wasdark and still, the anxious mother went patting up stairs to thechildren's door, meaning to hide her babies under their bed, sure theywould save them from destruction. Mrs. Blake had shut the door, however, so poor Puss was disappointed; but finding a soft, clean spot among avariety of curious articles, she laid her kits there, and kept them warmall night, with her head pillowed on the blue mittens. 

In the cold morning Dolly and Polly got up and scrambled into theirclothes, not with joyful haste to see what their stockings held, forthey had none, but because they had the little ones to dress whilemother got the breakfast. 

Dolly opened the door, and started back with a cry of astonishment atthe lovely spectacle before her. The other people had taken in theirgifts, so nothing destroyed the magnificent effect of the treasures socuriously collected in the night. Puss had left her kits asleep, andgone down to get her own breakfast, and there, in the middle of theruffled apron, as if in a dainty cradle, lay the two Maltese darlings, with white bibs and boots on, and white tips to the tiny tails curledround their little noses in the sweetest way. 

Polly and Dolly could only clasp their hands and look in rapturoussilence for a minute; then they went down on their knees and revelled inthe unexpected richness before them. 

"I do believe there _is_ a Santa Claus, and that he heard us, for hereis everything we wanted, " said Dolly, holding the carnelian heart in onehand and the plummy one in the other. 

"It must have been some kind of a fairy, for we didn't mention kittens, but we wanted one, and here are two darlings, " cried Polly, almostpurring with delight as the downy bunches unrolled and gaped till theirbits of pink tongues were visible. 

"Mrs. Smith was one fairy, I guess, and Miss Kent was another, for thatis her apron. I shouldn't wonder if Mr. Chrome gave us the oranges andthe money: men always have lots, and his name is on this bit of paper, "said Dolly. 

"Oh, I'm _so_ glad! Now we shall have a Christmas like other people, andI'll never say again that rich folks don't remember poor folks. Come andshow all our treasures to mother and the babies; they must have some, "answered Polly, feeling that the world was all right, and life not halfas hard as she thought it last night. 

Shrieks of delight greeted the sisters, and all that morning there wasjoy and feasting in Mrs. Blake's room, and in the afternoon Dolly andPolly went to the Museum, and actually saw _Puss in Boots_; for theirmother insisted on their going, having discovered how the hard-earnedquarters had been spent. This was such unhoped-for bliss that they couldhardly believe it, and kept smiling at one another so brightly thatpeople wondered who the happy little girls in shabby cloaks could be whoclapped their new mittens so heartily, and laughed till it was betterthan music to hear them. 

This was a very remarkable Christmas-day, and they long remembered it;for while they were absorbed in the fortunes of the Marquis of Carabasand the funny cat, who tucked his tail in his belt, washed his face soawkwardly, and didn't know how to purr, strange things were happening athome, and more surprises were in store for our little friends. You see, when people once begin to do kindnesses, it is so easy and pleasant theyfind it hard to leave off; and sometimes it beautifies them so thatthey find they love one another very much--as Mr. Chrome and Miss Kentdid, though we have nothing to do with that except to tell how they madethe poor little tree grow and blossom. 

They were very jolly at dinner, and talked a good deal about the Blakes, who ate in their own rooms. Miss Kent told what the children said, andit touched the soft spot in all their hearts to hear about the redshirts, though they laughed at Polly's lament over the bird with onlyone feather in its tail. 

"I'd give them a better tree if I had any place to put it, and knew howto trim it up, " said Mr. Chrome, with a sudden burst of generosity, which so pleased Miss Kent that her eyes shone like Christmas candles. 

"Put it in the back parlor. All the Browns are away for a week, andwe'll help you trim it--won't we, my dear?" cried Mrs. Smith, warmly;for she saw that he was in a sociable mood, and thought it a pity thatthe Blakes should not profit by it. 

"Yes, indeed; I should like it of all things, and it needn't cost much, for I have some skill in trimmings, as you know. " And Miss Kent lookedso gay and pretty as she spoke that Mr. Chrome made up his mind thatmillinery must be a delightful occupation. 

"Come on then, ladies, and we'll have a little frolic. I'm a lonely oldbachelor, with nowhere to go to-day, and I'd like some fun. "

They had it, I assure you; for they all fell to work as busy as bees, flying and buzzing about with much laughter as they worked theirpleasant miracle. Mr. Chrome acted more like the father of a largefamily than a crusty bachelor, Miss Kent's skillful fingers flew as theynever did before, and Mrs. Smith trotted up and down as briskly as ifshe were sixteen instead of being a stout old woman of sixty. 

The children were so full of the play, and telling all about it, thatthey forgot their tree till after supper; but when they went to look forit they found it gone, and in its place a great paper hand with onefinger pointing down stairs, and on it these mysterious words in redink:

"Look in the Browns' back parlor!"

At the door of that interesting apartment they found their mother withWill and Petkin, for another hand had suddenly appeared to them pointingup. The door flew open quite as if it were a fairy play, and they wentin to find a pretty tree planted in a red box on the centre table, lighted with candles, hung with gilded nuts, red apples, gay bonbons, and a gift for each. 

Mr. Chrome was hidden behind one folding-door, and fat Mrs. Smithsqueezed behind the other, and they both thought it a great improvementupon the old-fashioned Santa Claus to have Miss Kent, in the whitedress she made for the party, with Mrs. Blake's roses in her hair, stepforward as the children gazed in silent rapture, and with a few sweetwords welcome them to the little surprise their friends had made. 

There were many Christmas trees in the city that night, but none whichgave such hearty pleasure as the one which so magically took the placeof the broken branch and its few poor toys. They were all there, however, and Dolly and Polly were immensely pleased to see that of allher gifts Petkin chose the forlorn bird to carry to bed with her, theone yellow feather being just to her taste. 

Mrs. Blake put on her neat bonnet, and was so gratified that Miss Kentthought it the most successful one she ever trimmed. She was well paidfor it by the thanks of one neighbor and the admiration of another; forwhen she went to her party Mr. Chrome went with her, and said somethingon the way which made her heart dance more lightly than her feet thatnight. 

Good Mrs. Smith felt that her house had covered itself with glory bythis event, and Dolly and Polly declared that it was the most perfectand delightful surprise party ever seen. 

It was all over by nine o'clock, and with good-night kisses for everyone the little girls climbed up to bed laden with treasures and toohappy for many words. But as they tied their round caps Dolly said, thoughtfully:

"On the whole, I think it's rather nice to be poor when people are kindto you. "

"Well, I'd _rather_ be rich; but if I can't be, it is very good fun tohave Christmas trees like this one, " answered truthful Polly, neverguessing that they had planted the seed from which the little pine-treegrew so quickly and beautifully. 

When the moon came to look in at the window on her nightly round, twosmiling faces lay on the pillow, which was no longer wet with tears, butrather knobby with the mine of riches hidden underneath, --first fruitsof the neighborly friendship which flourished in that house untilanother and a merrier Christmas came. 

III. 

THE DOLLS' JOURNEY FROM MINNESOTA TO MAINE. 

Mr. Plum lived in St. Paul, Minnesota, U. S. A. 

There were six little Plums, all girls, varying in ages from fourteen toseven, and named Kate, Lucy, Susy, Lizzy, Marjory and Maggie. There wasno mamma, but Mrs. Gibbs, the housekeeper, was a kind old soul, and papadid everything he could to make the small daughters good and happy. 

One stormy Saturday afternoon the children were all together in theschool-room, and papa busy at his desk in the library, with the dooropen because he liked to hear the pleasant voices and catch glimpses ofthe droll plays that went on there. 

Kate lay on the sofa reading "The Daisy Chain" for the fourth time. Susy, Lucy and Lizzie were having a select tea party in their ownrecess, the entrance to which was barricaded with chairs to keep out the"babies, " as they called the little ones, who were much offended atbeing excluded and sat up in the cushioned window-seat pensivelywatching the rain. 

"If it had only waited till to-morrow we should have had time for ourjourney; now we can't go till next Saturday. Flora is so disappointedshe would cry if I had not taught her to behave, " said Maggie with asigh, as she surveyed the doll on her knee in its new summer suit. 

"So is Dora. Just see how sweet she looks with her hat and cape on andher travelling-bag all ready. Couldn't we play travel in the house? Itis such a pity to wait when the children are in such a hurry to go, "answered Marjory, settling the tiny bag that held Dora's nightcap andgown as well as the morsels of cake that were to serve for her lunch. 

"No, " said Maggie decidedly, "we can't do it, because there is no roomfor carriages, and boats, and railroads, and hotels, and accidents. Itis a long journey from Minnesota to Maine, and we couldn't get it allinto one room I'm sure. "

"I don't think papa would mind our coming into the library, if we didn'tring the car bells very loud or scream much when the accidents happen, "said Marjory, who hated to give up the plan they had been cherishing allthe week. 

"What is it, little ones? Come and tell me what is the matter, " calledMr. Plum, hearing his name and the magic word "railroad, " for he was thepresident of one and had his hands full just then. 

Down jumped the little girls and ran to perch on either arm of hischair, pouring out their small tribulations as freely as if he had beenthe most sympathizing of mothers. 

"We planned to take a long, long journey round the garden with our dollsto-day, and play go to Maine and see Aunt Maria. You know she asked us, and we looked out the way on the map and got all ready, and now it rainsand we are dreadfully disappointed, " said Maggie, while Marjory sighedas she looked at the red D. Worked on the inch square travelling-bag. 

"As you can't go, why not send the dolls to make aunty a visit, and shewill send them back when they get homesick, " proposed Mr. Plum, smiling, as if a sudden idea had popped into his head. 

"Really?" cried Maggie. 

"How could we?" asked Marjory. 

"They could go and come by mail, and tell you all about their adventureswhen they got back, " said papa. 

Both children were speechless for a moment, then as the full splendor ofthis proposition dawned upon them they clapped their hands, cryingeagerly:

"We will! we will! Let's do it at once. "

"What? where? who?" asked Susy, Lucy and Lizzie, forgetting their teaparty to run and see what was going on. 

They were told, and in their turn exclaimed so loudly that Kate came tojoin in the fun. 

After a great deal of talking and laughing, the dolls were prepared forthe long journey. They were common wooden-headed dollies, a hand long, with stuffed bodies and stout legs ornamented with very small feet inred and blue boots. Dora was a blonde and Flora a brunette, otherwisethey were just alike and nearly new. Usually when people go travellingthey put on their hats and cloaks, but these pilgrims, by papa's advice, left all encumbrances behind them, for they were to travel in a peculiarway, and blue gingham dresses were chosen for the expedition. 

"It is possible that they may never come back. Accidents will happen youknow. Are you prepared for that?" asked Mr. Plum, pausing with the brownpaper spread out before him. 

"I am, " answered Maggie firmly, as she laid Flora on the table, herblack eyes staring as if rather alarmed at this sudden start. 

Marjory hesitated a moment, clasping Dora to her bosom with a face fullof maternal anxiety. But Susy, Lucy and Lizzie cried: "Let her go, dolet her go, and if she is lost papa will give you a new doll. "

"Good-by, my darling dear. Have a splendid time, and be sure you comeback to me, " whispered Marjory, with a tender farewell kiss as she gaveup her child. 

All stood watching silently while papa tied the dolls back to back withthe ribbon Kate pulled from her neck, then folded them carefully instrong brown paper, leaving their heads out that they might see theworld as they went along. Being carefully fastened up with several turnsof cord, Mr. Plum directed the precious parcel to "Miss Maria Plum, Portland, Maine. With care. " Then it was weighed, stamped, andpronounced ready for the post. 

"I shall write and tell aunty they are coming, because she will want tobe prepared for such distinguished visitors, " said papa, taking up hispen with a glance at the six excited little faces round him. 

Silence reigned while the letter was written, and as he sealed it up Mr. Plum said solemnly, with his hand on the parcel:

"For the last time, shall they go?"

"Yes!" answered the Spartan mothers with one voice, while the othersisters danced round them, and Kate patted the curly heads approvingly. 

"Going, going, gone!" answered papa as he whisked on his coat and hat, and slammed the door behind him. 

The children clustered at the window to see him set out on thismomentous errand, and he often looked back waving his umbrella at them, till he vanished round the corner, with a reassuring pat on the pocketout of which dear Do and Flo popped their heads for a last look at theirsweet home. 

"Now let us take out poor old Lucinda and Rose Augusta to play with. Iknow their feelings were hurt at our leaving them for the new dolls, "said Maggie, rummaging in the baby-house, whither Margery soon followedher to reinstate the old darlings in the place of the departed new ones. 

"Safely off, " reported Mr. Plum, when he came into tea, "and we mayexpect to hear from them in a week or two. Parcels go more slowly thanletters, and this is Aunty's busy season, so wait patiently and see whatwill happen. "

"We will, " said the little girls; and they did, but week after week wentby and nothing was heard of the wanderers. 

We, however, can follow them and learn much that their anxious mothersnever knew. 

As soon as Flora and Dora recovered from the bewilderment occasioned bythe confusion of the post office, they found themselves in one of themany leathern mail bags rumbling Eastward. As it was perfectly dark theycould not see their companions, so listened to the whispering andrustling that went on about them. The newspapers all talked politics, and some of them used such bad language that the dolls would havecovered their ears, if their hands had not been tied down. The letterswere better behaved and more interesting, for they told one another thenews they carried, because nothing is private in America, and evengummed envelopes cannot keep gossip from leaking out. 

"It is very interesting, but I should enjoy it more if I was notgrinding my nose against the rough side of this leather bag, " whisperedDora, who lay undermost just then. 

"So should I, if a heavy book was not pinching my toes. I've tried tokick it away, but it won't stir, and keeps droning on about reports andtariffs and such dull things, " answered Flora, with a groan. 

"Do you like travelling?" asked Dora, presently, when the letters andpapers fell asleep, lulled by the motion of the cars. 

"Not yet, but I shall when I can look about me. This bundle near by saysthe mails are often sorted in the cars, and in that way we shall seesomething of the world, I hope, " answered Flora, cheering up, for, likeher mamma, she was of an enquiring turn. 

The dolls took a nap of some hours, and were roused by a generaltumbling out on a long shelf, where many other parcels lay, and livelymen sent letters and papers flying here and there as if a whirlwind wasblowing. A long box lay beside the dolls who stood nearly erect leaningagainst a pile of papers. Several holes were cut in the lid, and out ofone of them was thrust a little black nose, as if trying to get air. 

"Dear me! what can be in it?" said Flora, who was nearest. 

"I'm a poor little alligator, going to a boy in Chicago, if you please, and I want my mother, " sobbed a voice from the box, and there was a rapon the lid as of an agitated tail. 

"Mercy on us! I hope we shall not have to travel with the monster, "whispered Dora, trying to see over her shoulder. 

"I'm not afraid. He can't be very dreadful, for the box is not anylonger than we are. Natural history is very useful; I've heard mamma sayso, and I shall talk with him while we rest here, " answered Flo, noddingtoward the eye which now took the place of the nose. 

So the little alligator told her something of his home on the banks of agreat river, where he was just learning to play happily with hisbrothers and sisters, when he was caught and sent away to pine incaptivity. 

The dolls comforted him as well as they could, and a pair of baby'sshoes travelling in an envelope sympathized with him, while a shabbybundle directed to "Michael Dolan, at Mrs. Judy Quin's, next door to Mr. Pat Murphy, Boston, North street, " told them to "Whisht and slape quitetill they came forninst the place. "

"Such low people!" whispered Do to Flo, and both stood primly silenttill they were tumbled into another mail bag, and went rattling on againwith a new set of companions. 

"I hope that poor baby will go safely and the boy be good to him, " saidFlora, for the little alligator went with the live stock in some otherway. 

"Thank goodness he didn't go with us! I shall dream about that blacknose and winking eye, I'm sure. The dangers of travelling are great, butwe are safe and comfortable now, I think, " and Dora settled down in acozy corner of the bag, wondering when they should reach Chicago. 

"I like adventures and hope we shall have some, " answered Flora, briskly, little dreaming how soon her wish was to be granted. 

A few hours later there come a bump, a crash, a cry, and then all themail bags rolled one over the other with the car down an embankment intoa river. 

"Now we are dead!" shrieked the poor dolls, clinging together as theyheard the splash of water, the shouting of men, the splintering of wood, and the hiss of steam. 

"Don't be frightened, ladies, mail bags are always looked after, " said alarge envelope with an official seal and the name of a Senator on it. 

"Any bones broken, dear madam?" asked a jaunty pink letter, with a scentof musk about it, evidently a love-letter. 

"I think one foot is hurt, and my clothes are dripping, " sighed Dora, faintly. 

"Water won't hurt calico, " called out a magazine full of fashion plates, adding dolefully, as its gay colors began to run, "I shall be in a nicemess if I ever get out of this. People will wear odd fashions if theyfollow me this time. "

"Hope they will telegraph news of this accident in time for the eveningpapers, " said a dingy sheet called the "Barahoo Thunderbolt, " as it layatop of the heap in its yellow wrapper. 

"Be calm, my friends, and wait with fortitude for death or deliverance, as I do. " With which philosophic remark "The St. Louis Cosmos" foldedthe pages which for the first time since the paper was started, were notdry. 

Here the water rose over the topmost letter and a moist silenceprevailed till a sudden jerk fished up the bag, and before the dollscould recover their wits they were spread out on the floor of a mail carto dry, while several busy men sorted and saved such papers and lettersas still held together. 

"Now we shall see something, " said Flora, feeling the warm air blow overher as they spun along, for a slight accident like this did not delaythe energetic Westerners a moment longer than absolutely necessary. 

"I can't see you, dear, but I hope you look better than I do, for theyellow of my hair has washed into my eyes and the red of my cheeks isquite gone, I'm sure, " answered Dora, as her wet dress flopped in thebreeze and the broken foot sticking up showed her that her blue bootswere ruined. 

"I don't care a bit how I look. It's great fun now we are safe. Pop upyour head and see the wide prairie flying past. I do hope that poor babygot away and swam home to his mother. The upset into the river was quiteto his taste, I fancy, " said Flora, who was much excited by heradventure and eager for more. 

Presently one of the men set the dolls up in the corner of a window todry, and there they stood viewing the fine landscape with one eye whilethe other watched the scene of devastation within. Everything was ingreat confusion after the accident, so it is not strange that the dollswere not missed when they slowly slid lower and lower till a suddenlurch of the car sent them out of the window to roll into a green fieldwhere cows were feeding and children picking strawberries. 

"This is the end of us! Here we shall lie and mould forgotten byeverybody, " said Dora, who always took a tragical view of things. 

"Not a bit of it! I see cows eating toward us and they may give us alift. I've heard of their tossing people up, though I don't know justhow it's done. If they don't, we are in the path and some of thosechildren are sure to find us, " answered Flora cheerfully, though shestood on her head with a bunch of burrs pricking her nose. 

She was right. A bright-eyed little German girl presently came trottingalong the path with a great basket full of berries on her head arrangedin pretty pottles ready for the market. Seeing the red cow sniffing at abrown paper parcel she drove her away, picked it up and peeped in at theopen end. 

The sight of two dolls in such a place made her feel as if fairies haddropped them there for her. She could not read the direction and hurriedhome to show her treasure to her brothers and sisters of whom there wereeight. 

"What will become of us now!" exclaimed Dora, as eager hands slippedthem out of the wrapper and smoothed their damp skirts in a room thatseemed swarming with boys and girls of all sizes. 

"Don't worry, we shall get on nicely, I'm sure, and learn German ofthese young persons. It is a great relief to be able to stretch one'slimbs and stand up, isn't it?" answered Flora, undismayed by anythingthat had happened as yet. 

"Yes, dear, I love you but I _am_ tired of being tied to you all day. Ihope we shall live through this noise and get a little rest, but I giveup the idea of ever seeing Portland, " answered Dora, staring with allher blue eyes at the display of musical instruments about the room, andlonging to stop her ears, for several of the children were playing onthe violin, flute, horn or harp. They were street musicians, and eventhe baby seemed to be getting ready to take part in the concert, for hesat on the floor beside an immense bass horn taller than himself, withhis rosy lips at the mouth piece and his cheeks puffed out in vainattempts to make a "boom! boom!" as brother Fritz did. 

Flora was delighted, and gave skips on her red boots in time to thelively tooting of the boys, while the girls gazed at the lovely dollsand jabbered away with their yellow braids quivering with excitement. 

The wrapper was laid aside till a neighbor who read English came in totranslate it. Meantime they enjoyed the new toys immensely, and evendespondent Dora was cheered up by the admiration she received; whilethey in their turn were deeply interested in the pretty dolls' furnituresome of the children made. 

Beds, tables and chairs covered the long bench, and round it sat theneat-handed little maidens gluing, tacking and trimming, while they sangand chatted at their work as busy and happy as a hive of bees. 

All day the boys went about the streets playing, and in the eveningtrooped off to the beer gardens to play again, for they lived inChicago, and the dolls had got so far on their way to Aunt Maria, asthey soon discovered. 

For nearly two months they lived happily with Minna, Gretchen andNanerl, then they set out on their travels again, and this was the wayit happened. A little girl came to order a set of furniture for her newbaby-house, and seeing two shabby dolls reposing in a fine bed she askedabout them. Her mamma spoke German so Minna told how they were found, and showed the old wrapper, saying that they always meant to send thedolls on their way but grew so fond of them they kept putting it off. 

"I am going as far as New York very soon and will take them along if youlike, for I think little Miss Maria Plum must have been expecting herdolls all this time. Shall I?" asked the mamma, as she read the addressand saw the dash under "With care, " as if the dollies were of greatimportance to some one. 

"Ja, ja, " answered Minna, glad to oblige a lady who bought two wholesets of their best furniture and paid for it at once. 

So again the dolls were put in their brown paper cover and sent awaywith farewell kisses. 

"This now is genteel and just suits me, " said Dora, as they drove alongwith little Clara to the handsome house where she was staying. 

"I have a feeling that she is a spoilt child, and we shall not be ashappy with her as with the dear Poppleheimers. We shall see, " answeredFlora, wisely, for Clara had soon tossed the dolls into a corner and wasfretting because mamma would not buy her the big horn to blow on. 

The party started for New York in a day or two, and to the delight ofFlo and Do they were left out of the trunks for Clara to play with onthe way, her own waxen Blanche Marie Annabel being too delicate to beused. 

"Oh my patience, this is worse than tumbling about in a mail-bag, "groaned Dora, after hours of great suffering, for Clara treated the poordolls as if they had no feeling. 

She amused herself with knocking their heads together, shutting them inthe window with their poor legs hanging out, swinging them by one arm, and drawing lines with a pencil all over their faces till they looked asif tattooed by savages. Even brave Flora was worn out and longed forrest, finding her only comfort in saying, "I told you so, " when Clarabanged them about, or dropped them on the dusty floor to be trampled onby passing feet. 

There they were left, and would have been swept away if a little dog hadnot found them as the passengers were leaving the car and carried themafter his master, trotting soberly along with the bundle in his mouth, for fortunately Clara had put them into the paper before she left them, so they were still together in the trials of the journey. 

"Hullo, Jip, what have you got?" asked the young man as the little dogjumped up on the carriage seat and laid his load on his master's knee, panting and wagging his tail as if he had done something to be praisedfor. 

"Dolls, I declare! What can a bachelor do with the poor things? Wonderwho Maria Plum is? Midge will like a look at them before we send themalong;" and into the young man's pocket they went, trembling with fearof the dog, but very grateful for being rescued from destruction. 

Jip kept his eye on them, and gave an occasional poke with his cold noseto be sure they were there as they drove through the bustling streets ofNew York to a great house with an inscription over the door. 

"I do hope Midge will be a nicer girl than Clara. Children ought to betaught to be kind to dumb dolls as well as dumb animals, " said Dora, asthe young man ran up the steps and hurried along a wide hall. 

"I almost wish we were at home with our own kind little mothers, " beganFlo, for even her spirits were depressed by bad treatment, but just thena door opened and she cried out in amazement, "Bless my heart, this manhas more children than even Mr. Poppleheimer!"

She might well think so, for all down both sides of the long room stoodlittle white beds with a small pale face on every pillow. All the eyesthat were open brightened when Jip and his master came in, and severalthin hands were outstretched to meet them. 

"I've been good, Doctor, let me pat him first, " cried one childishvoice. 

"Did you bring me a flower, please?" asked another feeble one. 

"I know he's got something nice for us, I see a bundle in his pocket, "and a little fellow who sat up among his pillows gave a joyful cough ashe could not shout. 

"Two dollies for Midge to play with. Jip found them, but I think thelittle girl they are going to will lend them for a few days. We shallnot need them longer I'm afraid, " added the young man to a rosy facednurse who came along with a bottle in her hand. 

"Dear no, the poor child is very low to-day. But she will love to lookat the babies if she isn't strong enough to hold 'em, " said the woman, leading the way to a corner where the palest of all the pale faces laysmiling on the pillow, and the thinnest of the thin hands were feeblyput up to greet the Doctor. 

"So nice!" she whispered when the dolls were laid beside her, while Jipproudly beat his tail on the floor to let her know that she owed thewelcome gift to him. 

For an hour Flo and Do lay on the arm of poor Midge who never movedexcept to touch them now and then with a tender little finger, or tokiss them softly, saying, "Dear babies, it is very nice not to be allalone. Are you comfy, darlings?" till she fell asleep still smiling. 

"Sister, do you think this can be the Heaven we hear people talk about?It is so still and white, and may be these children are angels, "whispered Dora, looking at the sweet face turned toward her with thelong lashes lying on the colorless cheek, and the arms outstretched likewings. 

"No, dear, it is a hospital, I heard that man say so, and those are sickchildren come to be cured. It is a sweet place, I think, and this childmuch nicer than that horrid Clara, " answered Flo, who was quicker tohear, see and understand what went on than Dora. 

"I love to lie here safe and warm, but there doesn't seem to be muchbreath to rock me, " said Do, who lay nearest the little bosom that veryslowly rose and fell with the feeble flutter of the heart below. 

"Hush, we may disturb her, " and lively Flo controlled her curiosity, contenting herself with looking at the other children and listening totheir quiet voices, for pain seemed to have hushed them all. 

For a week the dolls lay in Midge's bed, and though their breasts werefull of saw-dust and their heads were only wood, the sweet patience ofthe little creature seemed to waken something like a heart in them, andset them thinking, for dolls don't live in vain, I am firmly persuaded. 

All day she tended them till the small hands could no longer hold them, and through the weary nights she tried to murmur bits of lullabies lestthe dollies would not be able to sleep because of the crying or themoans some of the poor babies could not repress. She often sent one orthe other to cheer up some little neighbor, and in this way Do and Flobecame small sisters of charity, welcomed eagerly, reluctantly returned, and loved by all, although they never uttered a word and their dingyfaces could not express the emotion that stirred their saw-dust bosoms. 

When Saturday night came they were laid in their usual place on Midge'sarm. She was too weak to kiss them now, and nurse laid their batteredcheeks against the lips that whispered faintly, "Be sure you send 'em tothe little girl, and tell her--tell her--all about it. " Then she turnedher cheek to the pillow with a little sigh and lay so still the dollsthought she had gone to sleep. 

She had, but the sweet eyes did not open in the morning, and there wasno breath in the little breast to rock the dolls any more. 

"I knew she was an angel, and now she has flown away, " said Dora softly, as they watched the white image carried out in the weeping nurse'sarms, with the early sunshine turning all the pretty hair to gold. 

"I think that is what they call dying, sister. It is a much lovelier wayto end than as we do in the dust bin or rag-bag. I wonder if there is alittle Heaven anywhere for good dolls?" answered Flora, with what lookedlike a tear on her cheek; but it was only a drop from the violets sentby the kind Doctor last night. 

"I hope so, for I think the souls of little children might miss us ifthey loved us as dear Midge did, " whispered Dora, trying to kiss theblue flower in her hand, for the child had shared her last gift withthese friends. 

"Why didn't you let her take them along, poor motherless baby?" askedthe doctor when he saw the dolls lying as she had left them. 

"I promised her they should go to the girl they were sent to, andplease, I'd like to keep my word to the little darling, " answered Nursewith a sob. 

"You shall, " said the Doctor, and put them in his breast pocket with thefaded violets, for everybody loved the pauper child sent to die in ahospital, because Christian charity makes every man and woman father andmother to these little ones. 

All day the dolls went about in the busy Doctor's pocket, and I thinkthe violets did them good, for the soft perfume clung to them longafterward like the memory of a lovely life, as short and sweet as thatof the flowers. 

In the evening they were folded up in a fresh paper and re-directedcarefully. The Doctor wrote a little note telling why he had kept them, and was just about to put on some stamps when a friend came in who wasgoing to Boston in the morning. 

"Anything to take along, Fred?" asked the newcomer. 

"This parcel, if you will. I have a feeling that I'd rather not have itknock about in a mail-bag, " and the Doctor told him why. 

It was pleasant to see how carefully the traveller put away the parcelafter that, and to hear him say that he was going through Boston to themountains for his holiday, and would deliver it in Portland to Miss Plumherself. 

"Now there is some chance of our getting there, " said Flora, as they setoff next day in a new Russia leather bag. 

On the way they overheard a long chat between some New York and Bostonladies which impressed them very much. Flora liked to hear thefashionable gossip about clothes and people and art and theatres, butDora preferred the learned conversation of the young Boston ladies, whoseemed to know a little of everything, or think they did. 

"I hope Mamma will give me an entirely new wardrobe when I get home; andwe will have dolls' weddings and balls, and a play, and be as fine andfashionable as those ladies down there, " said Flora, after listening awhile. 

"You have got your head full of dressy ideas and high life, sister. Idon't care for such things, but mean to cultivate my mind as fast as Ican. That girl says she is in college, and named over more studies thanI can count. I do wish we were to stop and see a little of the refinedsociety of Boston, " answered Dora, primly. 

"Pooh!" said Flo, "don't you try to be intellectual, for you are only awooden-headed doll. I mean to be a real Westerner, and just enjoy myselfas I please, without caring what other folks do or think. Boston is nobetter than the rest of the world, I guess. "

Groans from every article in the bag greeted this disrespectful speech, and an avalanche of Boston papers fell upon the audacious doll. But Flowas undaunted, and shouted from underneath the pile: "I don't care!Minnesota forever!" till her breath gave out. 

Dora was so mortified that she never said a word till they were let outin a room at the Parker House. Here she admired everything, and read allthe evening in a volume of Emerson's Poems from the bag, for Mr. Mt. Vernon Beacon was a Boston man, and never went anywhere without a wisebook or two in his pocket. 

Flo turned up her nose at all she saw, and devoted herself to a longchat with the smart bag which came from New York and was full of gossip. 

The next afternoon they really got to Portland, and as soon as Mr. Beacon had made his toilet he set out to find little Miss Plum. When theparlor door opened to admit her he was much embarrassed, for, advancingwith a paternal smile and the dolls extended to the expected child, hefound himself face to face with a pretty young lady, who looked as ifshe thought him a little mad. 

A few words explained the errand, however, and when she read the noteAunt Maria's bright eyes were full of tears as she said, hugging thedilapidated dolls:

"I'll write the story of their travels, and send the dear old thingsback to the children as soon as possible. "

And so she did with Mr. Beacon's help, for he decided to try the air ofPortland, and spent his vacation there. The dolls were re-painted andre-dressed till they were more beautiful than ever, and their clothesfine enough to suit even Flo. 

They were a good while doing this, and when all was ready, Aunt Mariatook it into her head to run out to St. Paul and surprise the children. By a singular coincidence Mr. Beacon had railroad business in thatdirection, so they set off together, with two splendid dolls done up ina gay box. 

All that was ever known about that journey was that these travellersstopped at the hospital in New York, and went on better friends thanbefore after hearing from the good Doctor all the pathetic story oflittle Midge. 

The young Plums had long ago given up the hope of ever seeing Do and Floagain, for they started in June and it was early in September when AuntMaria appeared before them without the least warning, accompanied by apleasant gentleman from Boston. 

Six kisses had hardly resounded from Aunty's blooming cheeks when a mostattractive box was produced from the Russia leather bag, and thewandering dolls restored to the arms of their enraptured mammas. 

A small volume neatly written and adorned with a few pictures of themost exciting incidents of the trip also appeared. 

"Every one writes or prints a book in Boston, you know, so we did both, "said Aunt Maria, laughing, as she handed over the remarkable historywhich she had composed and Mr. Beacon illustrated. 

It was read with intense interest, and was as true as most stories arenowadays. 

"Nothing more delightful can happen now!" exclaimed the children, asthey laid by the precious work and enthroned the travelled dolls in theplace of honor on the roof of the baby-house. 

But something much more delightful did happen; for at Thanksgiving timethere was a wedding at the Plums'. Not a doll's wedding, as Flo hadplanned, but a real one, for the gentleman from Boston actually marriedAunt Maria. 

There were six bridesmaids, all in blue, and Flora and Dora, in theloveliest of new pink gowns, were set aloft among the roses on thewedding-cake, their proper place as everyone said, for there never wouldhave been any marriage at all but for this Doll's Journey From Minnesotato Maine. 

VI. 

MORNING-GLORIES. 

"What's that?"--and Daisy sat up in her little bed to listen; for shehad never heard a sound like it before. 

It was very early, and the house was still. The sun was just rising, andthe morning-glories at the window were turning their blue and purplecups to catch the welcome light. The sky was full of rosy clouds; dewshone like diamonds on the waving grass, and the birds were singing asthey only sing at dawn. But softer, sweeter than any bird-voice was thedelicate music which Daisy heard. So airy and gay was the sound, itseemed impossible to lie still with that fairy dancing-tune echoingthrough the room. Out of bed scrambled Daisy, her sleepy eyes openingwider and wider with surprise and pleasure as she listened and wondered. 

"Where is it?" she said, popping her head out of the window. Themorning-glories only danced lightly on their stems, the robins chirpedshrilly in the garden below, and the wind gave Daisy a kiss; but none ofthem answered her, and still the lovely music sounded close beside her. 

"It's a new kind of bird, perhaps; or maybe it's a fairy hiddensomewhere. Oh, if it _is_ how splendid it will be!" cried Daisy; and shebegan to look carefully in all the colored cups, under the leaves of thewoodbine, and in the wren's nest close by. There was neither fairy norbird to be seen; and Daisy stood wondering, when a voice cried out frombelow:

"Why, little nightcap, what brings you out of your bed so early?"

"O Aunt Wee! do you hear it--that pretty music playing somewhere near! Ican't find it; but I think it's a fairy, don't you?" said Daisy, lookingdown at the young lady standing in the garden with her hands full ofroses. 

Aunt Wee listened, smiled, and shook her head. 

"Don't you remember you said last night that you thought the world avery stupid, grown-up place, because there were no giants and fairies init now? Well, perhaps there _are_ fairies, and they are going to showthemselves to you, if you watch well. "

Daisy clapped her hands, and danced about on her little bare feet; for, of all things in the world, she most wanted to see a fairy. 

"What must I do to find them, Aunt Wee?" she cried, popping out her headagain with her cap half off, and her curly hair blowing in the wind. 

"Why, you see, they frolic all night, and go to sleep at dawn; so wemust get up very early, if we want to catch the elves awake. They aresuch delicate, fly-away little things, and we are so big and clumsy, weshall have to look carefully, and perhaps hunt a long time before wefind even one, " replied Aunt Wee, very gravely. 

"Mamma says I'm quick at finding things; and you know all about fairies, so I guess we'll catch one. Can't we begin now? It's very early, andthis music has waked me up; so I don't want to sleep any more. Will youbegin to hunt now?"

"But you don't like to get up early, or to walk in the fields; and, ifwe mean to catch a fairy, we must be up and out by sunrise every fairmorning till we get one. Can you do this, lazy Daisy?" And Aunt Weesmiled to herself as if something pleased her very much. 

"Oh! I will, truly, get up, and not fret a bit, if you'll only help melook. Please come now to dress me, and see if you can find what makesthe music. "

Daisy was very much in earnest, and in such a hurry to be off that shecould hardly stand still to have her hair brushed, and thought therewere a great many unnecessary buttons and strings on her clothes thatday. Usually she lay late, got up slowly and fretted at every thing aslittle girls are apt to do when they have had too much sleep. She wasn'ta rosy, stout Daisy; but had been ill, and had fallen into a way ofthinking she couldn't do anything but lie about, reading fairy-tales, and being petted by every one. Mamma and papa had tried all sorts ofthings to amuse and do her good; for she was their only little daughter, and they loved her very dearly. But nothing pleased her long; and shelounged about, pale and fretful, till Aunt Laura came. Daisy called her"Wee" when she was a baby, and couldn't talk plainly; and she still usedthe name because it suited the cheery little aunt so well. 

"I don't see anything, and the music has stopped. I think some elf justcame to wake you up, and then flew away; so we won't waste any more timein looking here, " said Wee, as she finished dressing Daisy, who flewabout like a Will-o'-the-wisp all the while. 

"Do you think it will come again to-morrow?" asked Daisy anxiously. 

"I dare say you'll hear it, if you wake in time. Now get your hat, andwe will see what we can find down by the brook. I saw a great manyfireflies there last night, and fancy there was a ball; so we may findsome drowsy elf among the buttercups and clover. "

Away rushed Daisy for her hat, and soon was walking gayly down the greenlane, looking about her as if she had never been there before; for everything seemed wonderfully fresh and lovely. 

"How pink the clouds are, and how the dew twinkles in the grass! I neversaw it so before, " she said. 

"Because by the time you are up the pretty pink clouds are gone, and thethirsty grass has drank the dew, or the sun has drawn it up to fallagain at night for the flowers' evening bath, " replied Wee, watching thesoft color that began to touch Daisy's pale cheeks. 

"I think we'd better look under that cobweb spread like a tent over thewhite clovers. A fairy would be very likely to creep in there andsleep. "

Daisy knelt down and peeped carefully; but all she saw was a littlebrown spider, who looked very much surprised to see visitors so early. 

"I don't like spiders, " said Daisy, much disappointed. 

"There are things about spiders as interesting to hear as fairy tales, "said Wee. "This is Mrs. Epeira Diadema; and she is a respectable, industrious little neighbor. She spreads her tent, but sits under a leafnear by, waiting for her breakfast. She wraps her eggs in a soft silkenbag, and hides them in some safe chink, where they lie till spring. Theeggs are prettily carved and ornamented, and so hard that the babyspiders have to force their way out by biting the shell open and pokingtheir little heads through. The mother dies as soon as her eggs aresafely placed, and the spiderlings have to take care of themselves. "

"How do you know about it, Aunt Wee? You talk as if Mrs. Eppyra--orwhatever her name is--had told you herself. Did she?" asked Daisy, feeling more interested in the brown spider. 

"No; I read it in a book, and saw pictures of the eggs, web, and family. I had a live one in a bottle; and she spun silken ladders all up anddown, and a little room to sleep in. She ate worms and bugs, and wasvery amiable and interesting till she fell ill and died. "

"I should like to see the book; and have a spider-bottle, so I couldtake care of the poor little orphans when they are born. Good-by, ma'am. I shall call again; for you are 'most as good as a fairy there in yourpretty tent, with a white clover for your bed. "

Daisy walked on a few steps, and then stopped to say:

"What does that bird mean by calling 'Hurry up, hurry up?' He keepsflying before us, and looking back as if he wanted to show mesomething. "

"Let me hear what he says. I may be able to understand him, or thebob-o-link that swings on the alder by the brook. "

Wee listened a moment, while the birds twittered and chirped with alltheir hearts. Presently Wee sang in a tone very like the bob-o-link's:

 "Daisy and Wee, Come here, and see What a dainty feast is spread: Down in the grass Where fairies pass, Here are berries ripe and red. 

 "All wet with dew, They wait for you: Come hither, and eat your fill, While I gayly sing, In my airy swing, And the sun climbs up the hill. "

"Did he really say that?" cried Daisy, watching the bob-o-link, who satswaying up and down on the green bough, and nodding his white-cappedhead at her in the most friendly manner. 

"Perhaps I didn't translate it rightly; for it is very hard to putbird-notes into our language, because we haven't words soft and sweetenough. But I really think there are berries over there, and we will seeif what he says is true, " said Wee. 

Over the wall they went, and there, on a sunny bank, found a bed of thereddest, ripest berries ever seen. 

"Thank you, thank you, for telling me to hurry up, and showing me such asplendid feast, " said Daisy, with her mouth full, as she nodded back atthe birds. "These are so much sweeter than those we buy. I'd carry somehome to mamma, if I only had a basket. "

"You can pick this great leaf full, while I make you a basket, " saidWee. 

Daisy soon filled the leaf, and then sat watching her aunt plait apretty basket of rushes. While she waited she looked about, and keptfinding something curious or pleasant to interest and amuse her. Firstshe saw a tiny rainbow in a dewdrop that hung on a blade of grass; thenshe watched a frisky calf come down to drink on the other side of thebrook, and laughed to see him scamper away with his tail in the air. Close by grew a pitcher-plant; and a yellow butterfly sat on the edge, bathing its feet, Daisy said. Presently she discovered a little groundbird sitting on her nest, and peeping anxiously, as if undecided whetherto fly away or trust her. 

"I won't hurt you, little mother. Don't be afraid, " whispered the child;and, as if it understood, the bird settled down on her nest with acomfortable chirp, while its mate hopped up to give her a nice plumpworm for breakfast. 

"I love birds. Tell me something about them, Aunt Wee. You must knowmany things; for they like you, and come when you call. "

"Once upon a time, " began Wee, while her fingers flew and the prettybasket grew, "there was a great snow-storm, and all the country wascovered with a thick white quilt. It froze a little, so one could walkover it, and I went out for a run. Oh, so cold it was, with a sharpwind, and no sun or any thing green to make it pleasant! I went far awayover the fields, and sat down to rest. While I sat there, a little birdcame by, and stopped to rest also. 

"'How do you do?' said I. 

"'Chick-a-dee-dee, ' said he. 

"'A cold day, ' said I. 

"'Chick-a-dee-dee, ' said he. 

"'Aren't you afraid of starving, now the ground is covered and the treesare bare?'

"'Chick-a-dee-dee, ma'am, chick-a-dee-dee!'" answered the bird in thesame cheerful tone. And it sounded as if he said, 'I shall be cared for. I'm not afraid. '

"'What will you eat? There's nothing here or for miles round. I reallythink you'll starve, birdie, ' said I. 

"Then he laughed, and gave me a merry look as he lit on a tall, dry weednear by. He shook it hard with his little bill; when down fell a showerof seeds, and there was dinner all ready on a snow-white cloth. All thewhile he ate he kept looking up at me with his quick, bright eyes; and, when he had done, he said, as plainly as a bird could say it:

 "'Cold winds may blow, And snows may fall, But well we know God cares for all. '"

"I like that little story, and shall always think of it when I hear thechick-a-dee-dee. " Daisy sat a moment with a thoughtful look in her eyes;then she said slowly, as if sorry for the words:

"It isn't a stupid, grown-up world. It's a very pleasant, young world;and I like it a great deal better this morning than I did last night. "

"I'm glad of that; and, even if we don't find our fairy to-day, you willhave found some sunshine, Daisy, and that is almost as good. Now put inthe berries, and we'll go on. "

How they hunted! They climbed trees to peep into squirrel-holes andbirds'-nests; they chased bees and butterflies to ask for news of theelves; they waded in the brook, hoping to catch a water-sprite; they ranafter thistle-down, fancying a fairy might be astride; they searched theflowers and ferns, questioned sun and wind, listened to robin andthrush; but no one could tell them any thing of the little people, though all had gay and charming bits of news about themselves. And Daisythought the world got younger and happier every minute. 

When they came in to breakfast, papa and mamma looked at Daisy, and thennodded with a smile at Aunt Wee; for, though Daisy's frock was soiled, her boots wet, and her hair tumbled, her cheeks were rosy, eyes bright, and voice so cheerful that they thought it better music than any in thesummer world without. 

"Hunting fairies is a pleasant play, isn't it, Daisy?" said papa, as hetasted the berries, and admired the green basket. 

"Oh, yes! and we are going again to-morrow. Aunt Wee says we must tryseven days at least. I like it, and mean to keep on till I really findmy fairy. "

"I think you will find something better than 'little vanishers, ' dear, "said mamma, filling up the bowl of bread and milk which Daisy was fastemptying; for she certainly _had_ found an appetite. 

"There it is again!" cried Daisy, flying out of bed the next morningstill earlier than the day before. Yes, there it was, the fairy music, as blithe and sweet as ever; and the morning-glories rung their delicatebells as if keeping time. Daisy felt rather sleepy, but remembered herpromise to Aunt Wee, and splashed into her tub, singing the bob-o-link'ssong as she bathed. 

"Where shall we go to-day?" she asked, as they went out into the garden. 

"I think we'd better try a new place; so we'll go to the farmyard; and, while we feed the hens, I'll listen to their chat, and perhaps can learnsomething from it, " replied Wee soberly. 

"Do hens know about fairies? I thought they were very dull things, anddidn't care for any thing but eating corn and laying eggs, " said Daisy, surprised. 

"Oh, dear, no! they are very sensible creatures, and see a deal of theworld in their daily walks. Hunting for insects gives them an excellentchance to see fairies, if there are any. Here is some corn for thebiddies; and, after we have fed them, we will look for eggs, and so mayfind a brownie or two. "

Such a clatter as there was when they came to the barnyard; for everything was just awake, and in the best spirits. Ducks were paddling offto the pond; geese to the meadow; and meek gray guinea-hens trippingaway to hunt bugs in the garden. A splendid cock stood on the wall, andcrowed so loud and clear that all the neighboring chanticleers replied. The motherly hens clucked and scratched with their busy broods aboutthem, or sat and scolded in the coops because the chicks would gadabroad. Doves cooed on the sunny roof, and smoothed their gleamingfeathers. Daisy's donkey nibbled a thistle by the wall, and a statelypeacock marched before the door with all his plumage spread. It madeDaisy laugh to see the airs the fowls put on as she scattered corn, andthrew meal and water to the chicks. Some pushed and gobbled; some stoodmeekly outside the crowd, and got what they could; others seized amouthful, and ran away to eat it in a corner. The chicks got into thepan entirely, and tumbled one over the other in their hurry to eat; butthe mammas saw that none went hungry. And the polite cock waited uponthem in the most gentlemanly manner, making queer little clucks andgurgles as if he said:

"Allow me, madam, to offer you this kernel;" or, "Here, my dear, trythat bit. " And sometimes he pecked a little, with a loud quaver, evidently saying, "Come, come, children, behave yourselves, and don'teat like pigs. "

"What is she saying?" asked Daisy, pointing to an old gray hen in ablack turban, who was walking about alone, muttering to herself, as hensoften do in their promenades. 

"She says a cat has made a nest, and hatched three kits up on the loft, near her own nest; and she doesn't like it, because their mewing annoysher, " said Wee, after listening a minute. 

"How nice! let's go and find them. But do you learn anything about thefairies from the hen's chat?"

"No: they have been so busy setting, they have had no time for picnicsyet. But they will let us know, if they discover any. "

In the barn, the cows were being milked; and Daisy had a mugful of it, warm and sweet, out of the foaming pail. 

"We'll take some to Mrs. Purr; for, I dare say, she doesn't like toleave the kits long, and will enjoy a sip of something comfortable, "said Wee, as Daisy climbed the ladder, and went rustling over the hayto a corner, whence came a joyful "Mew!" What a charming sight it was, to be sure! a snow-white cat lying in a cosy nest, and, by her, threesnow-white kits, wagging three very small gray tails. 

"There never was any thing so lovely!" cried Daisy, as she sat with thethree downy balls in her lap, while the mamma gratefully lapped the newmilk from Aunt Wee's cup. 

"Are they better than fairies?"

"Almost: for I know about pussies, and can cuddle them; but I couldn't afairy, you know, and they might be afraid of me. These dears are notafraid, and I shall have such fun with them as they grow up. What_shall_ we name them, auntie?"

"Snowball, Patpaw, and Wagtail would do, I think, " said Wee, strokingthe cat, who rubbed against her, purring very loud. 

"Yes: I like those names for my pets. But what is Mrs. Purr saying, withher mouth up to your ear?" asked Daisy, who firmly believed that AuntWee knew every thing. 

"She tells me that when she went on a grasshopper hunt the other day, asshe ran through the meadow, she saw some lovely creatures all in blue, with gauze wings, flying about over the river, and sitting in thewater-lilies. She thinks they may be fairies, and advises us to go andlook. "

"So we will to-morrow, " said Daisy. "Ask her, please, if I may take thekits into the house, if I'll be very careful and give them a nice bigbed to sleep in. "

"She says you may; but she must go too, else the kits will cry, " saidWee, after listening to Pussy's purr a minute. 

Much pleased with her new pets, Daisy took them in her apron, and, followed by their confiding mamma, marched to the house, and establishedthem in the old cradle which used to be hers. Pussy got in also; and, when they were settled on a soft cushion, Daisy rocked them gently toand fro. At first Mrs. Purr opened her yellow eyes, and looked ratheranxious: but, as nothing uncomfortable happened, she composed herself, and soon quite liked the motion; for she fell asleep, and made a prettypicture as she lay with her downy white babies on her downy whitebreast. 

When the sun rose next morning, he saw Daisy and Wee floating down theriver in their boat. "Bless me! here's company, " said the sun, and beganat once to make them welcome in his most charming manner. He set thewaves to sparkling with a sudden shimmer; he shot long rays of lightthrough the dark hemlocks, till they looked like fairy trees; he touchedDaisy's hair and it turned to gold; he chased away the shadows thatlurked among the hills; he drew up the misty curtain that hovered overthe river; and, with the warmth of his kisses, waked the sleepinglilies. 

"Look, look, Aunt Wee! how they open, one by one, as the light shines onthem! We shan't have to wait any longer; for they get up with the sun, as you do. " As she spoke, Daisy caught a half-open lily, and drew it up, fragrant and dripping, fresh from its sleep. 

"They look like a fleet of fairy ships, anchored in this quiet harbor, with sails half furled, and crews asleep. See the little sailors, intheir yellow jackets, lifting up their heads as the wind blows itswhistle, like a boatswain, to 'pipe all hands. '"

Daisy laughed at Aunt Wee's fancy, and stirred up the crew of theWater-sprite, as she called her flower, till the white sails were allset, and it was ready for a summer voyage. 

"It is time we saw the fairies in blue, unless old Madam Purr deceivedus. I hope we _shall_ find one; for, though I enjoy every thing we see, I do want my elf too. "

"What is that?" cried Wee; and Daisy flew up so quickly that the boatrocked like a cradle. A slender creature, in a blue dress, with gauzywings, darted by, and vanished among the rushes that nodded by the bank. 

"Go nearer, --softly! softly!--and maybe it will fly out again. I reallythink it was a fairy; for I never saw any thing like it before, "whispered Daisy, much excited. 

Wee rowed in among the green rushes and purple water-weeds, and out flewhalf-a-dozen of the blue-bodied creatures. They didn't seem afraid, butskimmed about the boat, as if curious to see what it was; and Daisy sat, and stared with all her might. Presently one of the lovely things lit onthe lily in her hand, and she held her breath to watch it. A littleshadow of disappointment passed over her face as she looked; but it wasgone at once, and her voice was full of delight as she said softly:

"It's not a fairy, Aunt Wee; but it is very beautiful, with its slenderblue body, its lacy wings, and bright eyes. What name does it have?"

"We call it a dragon-fly; and it could tell you a pretty little storyabout itself, could you understand it. In May the tiny eggs are droppedon the water, and sink to the bottom, where little creatures areborn, --ugly, brown things, with six legs and no wings. They feed onwater-insects, and for a long time swim about in this state. When ready, they climb up the stem of some plant, and sit in the sun till the uglybrown shells drop away, and the lovely winged creatures appear. Theygrow in an hour to be perfect dragon-flies, and float away to lead happylives in the sunshine by the river. "

As if only waiting till the story was done, the dragon-fly flew off witha whirr, and darted to and fro, hunting for its breakfast, glitteringsplendidly as it flashed among the leaves or darted close above thewater. Daisy forgot her disappointment in a minute, and went fishing forlilies; while the turtles came up to sun themselves on the rocks, themerry little tadpoles wiggled in the shallow places, and a wild duckpaddled by with a brood of ducklings following in her wake. 

"Oh, dear! it rains; and we can't go fairy-hunting at all, " said Daisynext morning, as the patter on the window-pane woke her up, and Aunt Weecame in to dress her. 

"Yes, we can, dear; jump up, and see what a funny place I'll take youto. "

Daisy thought the rain would be a capital excuse for lying in bed; forshe still liked to cuddle and drowse in her cosey, warm nest. But shewas curious to know where the curious place was; so she got up andfollowed. 

"Why, Aunt Wee, this is the garret; and there isn't any thing nice orfunny here, " she said, as they climbed the stairs, and came into the bigattic, filled with all manner of old things. 

"Isn't there? We'll soon see. " And so they did: for Aunt Wee began toplay; and presently Daisy was shouting with fun as she sat on an oldsaddle, with a hair-covered trunk for a horse, a big old-fashionedbonnet on her head, and a red silk petticoat for a habit. Then they wentto sea in a great chest, and got wrecked on a desert island, where theybuilt a fort with boxes and bags, hunted bears with rusty guns, and hadto eat dried berries, herbs and nuts; for no other food could be found. Aunt Wee got an old fiddle, and had a dancing-school, where Daisycapered till she was tired. So they rummaged out some dusty books, andlooked at pictures so quietly that a little mouse came out of a drawerand peeped about, thinking no one was there. 

"Let's find the nest, since we don't find any fairy, " said Wee; and, opening the drawer, she turned over the things till she came to a pairof old velvet shoes; and there in the toe of one, nicely cuddled under abit of flannel, lay four pink mites, which woke up, and stretched theirtiny legs, and squeaked such small squeaks one could hardly hear them. 

"How cunning they are! I wish they would let me put them with the kits, and have a nursery full of babies. Wouldn't it be nice to see them allgrow up?" said Daisy. 

"I'm afraid they wouldn't grow up, if Mrs. Purr lived with them, " beganWee, but got no further; for just then the cat bounced into the drawer, and ate up the mouselings in four mouthfuls. Daisy screamed; themother-mouse gave a doleful squeak, and ran into a hole; and Aunt Weetried to save the little ones. But it was too late: Purr had got herbreakfast, and sat washing her face after it, as if she had enjoyed it. 

"Never mind, Daisy: she would have caught them by and by, and it's aswell to have them taken care of before they do any harm. There is thebell: don't cry, but come and tell papa what a fine romp we've had. "

"It doesn't rain, but it's dreadfully wet; so we'll go to the dairy, andsee if any sprites are hiding there, " said Wee next day; and to thedairy they went. 

A pleasant place it was, --so clean and cool, and as full of sweet odorsas if the ghosts of buttercups and clover still haunted the milk whichthey had helped to make. Dolly was churning, and Polly was making upbutter in nice little pats. Both were very kind, and let Daisy peepeverywhere. All round on white shelves stood the shining pans, full ofmilk; the stone floor was wet; and a stream of water ran along a narrowbed through the room, and in it stood jars of butter, pots of cream, andcans of milk. The window was open, and hop-vines shook their green bellsbefore it. The birds sang outside, and maids sang inside, as the churnand the wooden spatters kept time:

 "Brindle and Bess, White-star and Jess-- Come, butter, come! Eat cowslips fine, Red columbine-- Come, butter, come! Grasses green and tall, Clover, best of all, -- Come, butter, come! And give every night Milk sweet and white-- Come, butter, come! Make the churn go, See the lumps grow!-- Come, butter, come!"

Daisy sang also, and turned the handle till she was tired; then shehelped Polly with the butter, and made four little pats, --one stampedwith a star for papa, one with a rose for mamma, a strawberry for AuntWee, and a cow for herself. She skimmed a pitcher of cream with ashallow shell, and liked the work so much she asked to have a little panof milk put by for her to take care of every day. Dolly promised, andgave her a small shell and a low shelf all to herself. When she went in, she carried her pretty pats in one hand, the cream-pot in the other, andentered the breakfast room looking as brisk and rosy as a littlemilkmaid. 

It was a lovely morning when Daisy was next roused by the fairy music, and the ponies were standing at the door. "Are we going far?" sheasked, as Wee put on her riding-skirt, and tied back her hair. 

"Up to the mountain-top: it's only a mile; and we shall have time, if weride fast, " answered Wee. 

Away they went, through the green lane, over the bridge, and up thesteep hillside where the sheep fed and colts frisked as they passed by. Higher and higher climbed Dandy and Prance, the ponies; and gayer andgayer grew Daisy and Wee, as the fresh air blew over them, and themorning-red glowed on their faces. When they reached the top, they saton a tall stone, and looked down into the valley on either side. 

"This seems like a place to find giants, not fairies, it is so high andbig and splendid up here, " said Daisy, as her eye roamed over river, forest, town, and hill. 

"There are giants here; and I brought you up to see them, " answered Wee. 

"Mercy, me! where are they?" cried Daisy, looking very curious andrather frightened. 

"There is one of them. " And Wee pointed to the waterfall that wentdashing and foaming down into the valley. "That giant turns the wheelsof all the mills you see. Some of them grind grain for our bread, somehelp to spin cloth for our clothes, some make paper, and others sawtrees into boards. That is a beautiful and busy giant, Daisy. "

"So it is, and some day we'll go and see it work. Show me the others: Ilike your giants 'most as well as those in the fairy-books. "

"On this side you'll see another, called Steam. He is a very strongfellow; for, with the help of gunpowder, he will break the granitemountain in pieces, and carry it away. He works in the other mills, andtakes heavy loads of stone, cloth, paper, and wood all over the country. Then, on the right of us is a third giant, called Electricity. He runsalong those wires, and carries messages from one end of the world to theother. He goes under the sea and through the air; he brings news toevery one; runs day and night, yet never tires; and often helps sickpeople with his lively magic. "

"I like him best, I think; for he is more like a real, wonderful giant. Is there any on that side of us?" asked Daisy, turning round to lookbehind her. 

"Yes: the best and most powerful of all lives in that big house with thebell on the roof, " said Wee, smiling. 

"Why, that's only the schoolhouse. "

"Education is a long word, dear; but you know what it means, and, as yougrow older, you will see what wonders it can work. It is a noble giant;for in this country rich and poor are helped by it, and no one needsuffer for it unless they choose. It works more wonders than any other:it changes little children into wise, good men and women, who rule theworld, and make happy homes everywhere; it helps write books, singsongs, paint pictures, do good deeds, and beautify the world. Love andrespect it, my little Daisy, and be glad that you live now when suchgiants lend a hand to dwarfs like us. "

Daisy sat still a long time, looking all about her on the mountain-top;and, when she rode away, she carried a new thought in her mind, whichshe never forgot. 

"This is the last day of the seven, and no fairies have been found. Doyou think I _ever_ shall see one?" said Daisy, on the Sunday morningthat ended her week's hunt. 

"Not the kind you think of, for there are none such, Daisy; but you havefound two better and more beautiful ones than any fanciful sprites, "said Wee. 

"Have I? Where are they? What are their names?"

Aunt Wee drew her to the glass, and said, as she pointed to Daisy'sface:

"Here they are, and their names are Health and Happiness. There are manyways of losing them, and they are hard to catch when once lost. I wantedyou to keep both, and tried to show you how. A happy, healthful hour inthe morning sweetens and brightens the whole day; and there is nofairy-book half so wonderful as the lovely world all about us, if weonly know how to read it. "

"Then all these mornings we were hunting after health and happiness, instead of fairies, were we?"

"Yes: haven't you enjoyed it, and don't you think you have caught myfairies?"

Daisy looked from a little picture of herself, which Wee had drawn sometime ago, to her image in the glass. One was dull and sad, pale andcross; the other, rosy, gay, and smiling, --the likeness of a happy, hearty little girl, wide-awake and in good tune. She understood the kindjoke; and, turning, kissed Aunt Wee, as she said, gratefully:

"I think I have caught your elves, and I'll try to keep them all mylife. But tell me one thing: was the music that woke me all a joke too?"

"No, dear: here it is, and now it is your own; for you have learned towake and listen to it. "

Daisy looked, and saw Aunt Wee lean from the window, and take out of ahollow nook, in the old tree close by, a little box. She set it on thetable, touched a spring, and the airy music sounded more beautiful thanever. 

"Is it mine, all mine?" cried Daisy. 

"Yes: I hid it while I tried my little plan, and now you shall have itfor your own. See, here is the best elf I can give you, and she willdance whenever you call her. "

Wee pushed a golden pin, and up sprang a tiny figure, all crimson andgold, with shining wings, and a garland on its dainty head. Softlyplayed the hidden music, and airily danced the little sylph till thesilvery chime died away; then, folding her delicate arms, she sank fromsight, leaving Daisy breathless with delight. 

V. 

SHADOW-CHILDREN. 

Ned, Polly, and Will sat on the steps one sun-shiny morning, doingnothing, except wish they had something pleasant to do. 

"Something new, something never heard of before, --wouldn't that bejolly?" said Ned, with a great yawn. 

"It must be an amusing play, and one that we don't get tired of verysoon, " added Polly gravely. 

"And something that didn't be wrong, else mamma wouldn't like it, " saidlittle Will, who was very good for a small boy. 

As no one could suggest any thing to suit, they all sat silent a fewminutes. Suddenly Ned said, rather crossly, "I wish my shadow wouldn'tmock me. Every time I stretch or gape it does the same, and I don't likeit. "

"Poor thing, it can't help that: it has to do just what you do, and beyour slave all day. I'm glad I ain't a shadow, " said Polly. 

"I try to run away from mine sometimes, but I can't ever. It will comeafter me; and in the night it scares me, if it gets big and black, " saidWill, looking behind him. 

"Wouldn't it be fun to see shadows going about alone, and doing thingslike people?" asked Polly. 

"I just wish they would. I'd like to see ours cut capers; that would bea jolly new game, wouldn't it?" said Ned. 

No one had time to speak; for suddenly the three little shadows on thesunny wall behind them stood up straight, and began to bow. 

"Mercy, me!" cried Polly, staring at them. 

"By Jove, that's odd!" said Ned, looking queer. 

"Are they alive?" asked Will, a little frightened. 

"Don't be alarmed: they won't hurt you, " said a soft voice. "To-day ismidsummer-day, and whoever wishes a wish can have it till midnight. Youwant to see your shadows by themselves; and you can, if you promise tofollow them as they have followed you so long. They will not get youinto harm; so you may safely try it, if you like. Do you agree for theday to do as they do, and so have your wish?"

"Yes, we promise, " answered the children. 

"Tell no one till night, and be faithful shadows to the shadows. "

The voice was silent, but with more funny little bows the shadows beganto move off in different directions. The children knew their own: forNed's was the tallest, and had its hands in its pockets; Polly's had afrock on, and two bows where its hair was tied up; while Will's was aplump little shadow in a blouse, with a curly head and a pug nose. Eachchild went after its shadow, laughing, and enjoying the fun. 

Ned's master went straight to the shed, took down a basket, and marchedaway to the garden, where it began to move its hands as if busilypicking peas. Ned stopped laughing when he saw that, and looked ratherashamed; for he remembered that his mother had asked him to do thatlittle job for her, and he had answered, --

"Oh, bother the old peas! I'm busy, and I can't. "

"Who told you about this?" he asked, beginning to work. 

The shadow shook its head, and pointed first to Ned's new jacket, thento a set of nice garden tools near by, and then seemed to blow a kissfrom its shadowy fingers towards mamma, who was just passing the opengate. 

"Oh! you mean that she does lots for me; so I ought to do what I can forher, and love her dearly, " said Ned, getting a pleasanter face everyminute. 

The shadow nodded, and worked away as busily as the bees, tumbling heelsover head in the great yellow squash blossoms, and getting as dusty aslittle millers. Somehow Ned rather liked the work, with such an oddcomrade near by; for, though the shadow didn't really help a bit, itseemed to try, and set an excellent example. When the basket was full, the shadow took one handle, and Ned the other; and they carried it in. 

"Thank you, dear. I was afraid we should have to give up our peasto-day: I'm so busy, I can't stop, " said mamma, looking surprised andpleased. 

Ned couldn't stop to talk; for the shadow ran away to the woodpile, andbegan to chop with all its might. 

"Well, I suppose I must; but I never saw such a fellow for work as thisshadow is. He isn't a bit like me, though he's been with me so long, "said Ned, swinging the real hatchet in time with the shadowy one. 

Polly's new mistress went to the dining-room, and fell to washing up thebreakfast cups. Polly hated that work, and sulkily began to rattle thespoons and knock the things about. But the shadow wouldn't allow that;and Polly had to do just what it did, though she grumbled all the while. 

"She doesn't splash a bit, or make any clatter; so I guess she's a tidycreature, " said Polly. "How long she does rub each spoon and glass. Wenever shall get done. What a fuss she makes with the napkins, layingthem all even in the drawer. And now she's at the salt-cellars, doingthem just as mamma likes. I wish she'd live here, and do my work forme. Why, what's that?" And Polly stopped fretting to listen; for sheseemed to hear the sound of singing, --so sweet, and yet so very faintshe could catch no words, and only make out a cheerful little tune. 

"Do you hear any one singing, mamma?" she asked. 

"No: I wish I did. " And mamma sighed; for baby was poorly, piles ofsewing lay waiting for her, Biddy was turning things topsy-turvy in thekitchen for want of a word from the mistress, and Polly was lookingsullen. 

The little girl didn't say any more, but worked quietly and watched theshadow, feeling sure the faint song came from it. Presently she began tohum the tune she caught by snatches; and, before she knew it, she wassinging away like a blackbird. Baby stopped crying, and mamma said, smiling:

"Now I hear somebody singing, and it's the music I like best in theworld. "

That pleased Polly; but, a minute after, she stopped smiling, for theshadow went and took baby, or seemed to, and Polly really did. Now, babywas heavy, and cross with its teeth; and Polly didn't feel like tendingit one bit. Mamma hurried away to the kitchen; and Polly walked up anddown the room with poor baby hanging over her arm, crying dismally, witha pin in its back, a wet bib under its chin, and nothing cold and hardto bite with its hot, aching gums, where the little teeth were trying tocome through. 

"Do stop, you naughty, fretty baby. I'm tired of your screaming, andit's high time you went to sleep. Bless me! what's Miss Shadow doingwith _her_ baby?" said Polly. 

Miss Shadow took out the big pin and laid it away, put on a dry bib, andgave _her_ baby a nice ivory ring to bite; then began to dance up anddown the room, till the shadowy baby clapped its hands and kickeddelightedly. Polly laughed, and did the same, feeling sorry she had beenso pettish. Presently both babies grew quiet, went to sleep, and werelaid in the cradle. 

"Now, I hope we shall rest a little, " said Polly, stretching her arms. 

But, no: down sat the shadow, and began to sew, making her needle flylike a real little seamstress. 

"Oh, dear!" groaned Polly. "I promised to hem those handkerchiefs forNed, and so I must; but I do think handkerchiefs are the most pokeythings in the world to sew. I dare say you think you can sew faster thanI can. Just wait a bit, and see what I can do, miss, " she said to theshadow. 

It took some time to find her thimble and needles and spools, for Pollywasn't a very neat little girl; but she got settled at last, andstitched away as if bent on beating her dumb friend. 

Little Will's shadow went up to the nursery, and stopped before a basinof water. "Oh! ah! ain't this drefful?" cried Will, with a shiver; forhe knew he'd got to have his face washed, because he wouldn't have itdone properly when he got up, but ran away. Now, Will was a good child;but this one thing was his great trouble, and sometimes he couldn't bearit. Jane was so rough. She let soap get in his eyes, and water run downhis neck, and she pinched his nose when she wiped him, and brushed hishair so hard that really it _was_ dreadful; and even a bigger boy wouldhave found it hard to bear. He shivered and sighed: but Jane came in;and, when he saw that the shadow stood still and took the scrubbing likea little hero, he tried to do the same, and succeeded so well that Janeactually patted his head and called him "a deary;" which was somethingnew, for old Nurse Jane was always very busy and rather cross. 

Feeling that nothing worse could possibly happen to him, Will ran afterhis shadow, as it flitted away into the barn, and began to feed thechickens. 

"There, now! I forgetted all about my chickeys, and the shadow 'membered'em; and I'm glad of it, " said Will, scattering dabs of meal and waterto the chirping, downy little creatures who pecked and fluttered at hisfeet. Little shadow hunted for eggs, drove the turkeys out of thegarden, and picked a basket of chips: then it went to play with Sammy, a neighbor's child; for, being a small shadow, it hadn't many jobs todo, and plenty of active play was good for it. 

Sammy was a rough little boy and rather selfish: so, when they playedball, he wanted to throw all the time; and, when Will objected, he grewangry and struck him. The blow didn't hurt Will's cheek much, but it didhis little feelings; and he lifted his hand to strike back, when he sawhis shadow go and kiss Sammy's shadow. All his anger was gone in aminute, and he just put his arm round Sammy's neck and kissed him. Thiskiss for a blow made him so ashamed that he began to cry, and couldn'tbe comforted till he had given Will his best marble and a ride on hispony. 

About an hour before dinner, the three shadows and the children met inthe garden, and had a grand game of play, after they had told each otherwhat they had been doing since they parted. Now, the shadows didn'tforget baby even then, but got out the wagon, and Miss Baby, all freshfrom her nap, sat among her pillows like a queen, while Ned was horse, Polly footman, and Will driver; and in this way she travelled all roundthe garden and barn, up the lane and down to the brook, where she wasmuch delighted with the water sparkling along and the fine splash of thestones they threw in. 

When the dinner-bell rang, mamma saw four clean, rosy faces and foursmooth heads at the table; for the shadow-children made themselves neat, without being told. Every one was merry and hungry and good-natured. Even poor baby forgot her teeth, and played a regular rub-a-dub with herspoon on her mug, and tried to tell about the fine things she saw on herdrive. The children said nothing about the new play, and no one observedthe queer actions of their shadows but themselves. They saw that therewas no gobbling, or stretching over, or spilling of things, among theshadows; but that they waited to be helped, served others first, and atetidily, which was a great improvement upon the usual state of things. 

It was Saturday afternoon: the day was fine, and mamma told them theycould go for a holiday frolic in the woods. "Don't go to the pond, andbe home early, " she said. 

"Yes, mamma; we'll remember, " they answered, as they scampered away toget ready. 

"We shall go through the village, and Mary King will be looking out; soI shall wear my best hat. Mamma won't see me, if I slip down the backway; and I do so want Mary to know that my hat is prettier than hers, "said Polly, up in her little room. 

Now Polly was rather vain, and liked to prink; so she got out the newhat, and spent some time in smoothing her braids and putting on herblue ribbons. But when all was ready, and the boys getting impatient, she found her shadow, with a sun-bonnet on, standing by the door, as ifto prevent her going out. 

"You tiresome thing! do you mean that I mustn't wear my hat, but thatold bonnet?" asked Polly. 

The shadow nodded and beckoned, and patted its head, as if it was allright. 

"I wish I hadn't promised to do as you do; then I could do as I like, and not make a fright of myself, " said Polly, rather sulkily, as she putaway the hat, and tied on the old bonnet with a jerk. 

Once out in the lovely sunshine, she soon forgot the littledisappointment; and, as they didn't go through the village, but by agreen lane, where she found some big blackberries, she was quitecontented. Polly had a basket to hold fruit or flowers, Ned hisjackknife, and Will a long stick on which he rode, fancying that thissort of horse would help his short legs along; so they picked, whittled, and trotted their way to the wood, finding all manner of interestingthings on the road. 

The wood was full of pleasant sights and sounds; for wild roses bloomedall along the path, ferns and scarlet berries filled the little dells, squirrels chattered, birds sang, and pines whispered musicallyoverhead. 

"I'm going to stop here and rest, and make a wreath of these pretty wildroses for baby: it's her birthday, and it will please mamma, " saidPolly, sitting down on a mound of moss, with a lapful of flowers. 

"I'm going to cut a fishing-pole, and will be back in a minute. " And Nedwent crashing into the thickest part of the wood. 

"I shall see where that rabbit went to, and maybe I'll find someberries, " said Will, trotting down the path the wild rabbit had gone. 

The sound of the boys' steps died away, and Polly was wondering how itwould seem to live all alone in the wood, when a little girl cametrudging by, with a great pail of berries on her arm. She was a poorchild: her feet were bare, her gown was ragged, she wore an old shawlover her head, and walked as if lame. Polly sat behind the ferns, andthe child did not see her till Polly called out. The sudden soundstartled her; and she dropped her pail, spilling the berries all overthe path. The little girl began to cry, and Polly to laugh, saying, in ascornful tone:

"How silly to cry for a few berries!"

"I've been all day picking 'em, " said the girl; "and I'm so tired andhungry; 'cause I didn't dare to go home till my pail was full, --motherscolds if I do, --and now they're all spoilt. Oh, dear! dear me!" Andshe cried so hard that great tears fell on the moss. 

Polly was sorry now, and sat looking at her till she saw her shadow downon its knees, picking up the berries; then it seemed to fold its littlehandkerchief round the girl's bruised foot, and give her something fromits pocket. Polly jumped up and imitated the kind shadow, even to givingthe great piece of gingerbread she had brought for fear she should behungry. 

"Take this, " she said gently. "I'm sorry I frightened you. Here are theberries all picked up, and none the worse for falling in the grass. Ifyou'll take them to the white house on the hill, my mamma will buy them, and then your mother won't scold you. "

"Oh, thank you, miss! It's ever so good. I'll take the berries to yourmother, and bring her more whenever she likes, " said the childgratefully, as she walked away munching the gingerbread, and smilingtill there were little rainbows in her tears. 

Meanwhile Ned had poked about in the bushes, looking for a good pole. Presently he saw a willow down by the pond, and thought that would givehim a nice, smooth pole. He forgot his promise, and down he went to thepond; where he cut his stick, and was whittling the end, when he saw aboat by the shore. It was untied, and oars lay in it, as if waiting forsome one to come and row out. 

"I'll just take a little pull across, and get those cardinal-flowers forPolly, " he said; and went to the boat. 

He got in, and was about to push off, when he saw his shadow standing onthe shore. 

"Don't be a fool; get in, and come along, " he said to it, rememberinghis promise now, but deciding to break it, and ask pardon afterwards. 

But the shadow shook its head; pointed to the swift stream that ranbetween the banks, the rocks and mud on the opposite side, and the leakyboat itself. 

"I ain't afraid: mamma won't mind, if I tell her I'm sorry; and it willbe such fun to row alone. Be a good fellow, and let me go, " said Ned, beckoning. 

But the shadow would not stir, and Ned was obliged to mind. He did sovery reluctantly, and scolded the shadow well as he went back to Polly;though all the time he felt he was doing right, and knew he should beglad afterwards. 

Will trotted after the rabbit, but didn't find it; he found abird's-nest instead with four little birds in it. He had an empty cageat home, and longed for something to put in it; for kittens didn't likeit, and caterpillars and beetlebugs got away. He chose the biggest bird, and, holding him carefully, walked away to find Polly. The poormother-bird chirped and fluttered in great distress; but Will kept ontill his little shadow came before him, and tried to make him turnback. 

"No, no, I want him, " said Will. "I won't hurt him, and his mother hasthree left: she won't mind if I take one. "

Here the mother-bird chirped so loud it was impossible to help seeingthat she _did_ care very much; and the shadow stamped its foot and wavedits hand, as if ordering the young robber to carry back the baby-bird. Will stood still, and thought a minute; but his little heart was a verykind one, and he soon turned about, saying pleasantly:

"Yes, it _is_ naughty, and I won't do it. I'll ask mamma to get me acanary, and will let this birdie stay with his brothers. "

The shadow patted him on the shoulder, and seemed to be delighted asWill put the bird in the nest and walked on, feeling much happier thanif he had kept it. A bush of purple berries grew by the path, and Willstopped to pick some. He didn't know what they were, and mamma had oftentold him never to eat strange things. But they smelt so good, and lookedso nice, he couldn't resist, and lifted one to his mouth, when littleshadow motioned for him to stop. 

"Oh, dear! you don't let me do any thing I want to, " sighed Will. "Ishall ask Polly if I tarn't eat these; and, if she says I may, I shall, so now. "

He ran off to ask Polly; but she said they were poisonous, and beggedhim to throw them away. 

"Good little shadow, to keep me safe!" cried Will. "I like you; and I'llmind better next time, 'cause you are always right. "

The shadow seemed to like this, and bobbed about so comically it madeWill laugh till his eyes were full of tears. Ned came back, and theywent on, having grand times in the wood. They found plenty of berries tofill the basket; they swung down on slender birches, and got rolls ofwhite bark for canoes; they saw all sorts of wild-wood insects andbirds; and frolicked till they were tired. As they crossed a field, acow suddenly put down her head and ran at them, as if she was afraidthey meant to hurt her calf. All turned, and ran as fast as they couldtoward the wall; but poor Will in his fright tumbled down, and layscreaming. Ned and Polly had reached the wall, and, looking back, sawthat their shadows had not followed. Ned's stood before Will, brandishing his pole; and Polly's was flapping a shadowy sun-bonnet withall its might. As soon as they saw that, back they went, --Ned tothreaten till he broke his pole, and Polly to flap till the strings cameoff. As if anxious to do its part, the bonnet flew up in the air, andcoming down lit on the cross cow's head; which so astonished her thatshe ran away as hard as she could pelt. 

"Wasn't that funny?" said Will, when they had tumbled over the wall, andlay laughing in the grass on the safe side. 

"I'm glad I wore the old bonnet; for I suppose my best hat would havegone just the same, " said Polly thankfully. 

"The calf doesn't know its own mother with that thing on, " laughed Ned. 

"How brave and kind you were to come back and save me! I'd have beendeaded if you hadn't, " said Will, looking at his brother and sister withhis little face full of grateful admiration. 

They turned towards home after this flurry, feeling quite like heroes. When they came to the corner where two roads met, Ned proposed theyshould take the river-road; for, though the longest, it was much thepleasantest. 

"We shan't be home at supper-time, " said Polly. "You won't be able to doyour jobs, Ned, nor I mine, and Will's chickens will have to go to bedhungry. "

"Never mind: it's a holiday, so let's enjoy it, and not bother, "answered Ned. 

"We promised mamma we'd come home early, " said Will. 

They stood looking at the two roads, --one sandy, hot, and hilly; theother green and cool and level, along the river-side. They all chose thepleasant path, and walked on till Ned cried out, "Why, where are ourshadows?"

They looked behind, before, and on either side; but nowhere could theysee them. 

"They were with us at the corner, " said Will. 

"Let's run back, and try to find them, " said Polly. 

"No, let 'em go: I'm tired of minding mine, and don't care if I neversee it again, " said Ned. 

"Don't say so; for I remember hearing about a man who sold his shadow, and then got into lots of trouble because he had none. We promised tofollow them, and we must, " said Polly. 

"I wish, " began Ned in a pet; but Polly clapped her hand over his mouth, saying:

"Pray, don't wish now; for it may come to pass as the man's wish in thefairy tale did, and the black pudding flew up and stuck tight to hiswife's nose. "

This made Ned laugh, and they all turned back to the corner. Looking upthe hilly road, they saw the three shadows trudging along, as if bent ongetting home in good time. Without saying a word, the children followed;and, when they got to the garden gate, they all said at once:

"Aren't you glad you came?"

Under the elm-tree stood a pretty tea-table, covered with bread andbutter, custards, and berries, and in the middle a fine cake withsugar-roses on the top; and mamma and baby, all nicely dressed, werewaiting to welcome them to the birthday feast. Polly crowned the littlequeen, Ned gave her a willow whistle he had made, and Will some pretty, bright pebbles he had found; and Miss Baby was as happy as a bird, withher treasures. 

A pleasant supper-time; then the small duties for each one; and then thego-to-bed frolic. The nursery was a big room, and in the evening abright wood fire always burned there for baby. Mamma sat before it, softly rubbing baby's little rosy limbs before she went to bed, singingand telling stories meanwhile to the three children who pranced about intheir long nightgowns. This evening they had a gay time; for the shadowsamused them by all sorts of antics, and kept them laughing till theywere tired. As they sat resting on the big sofa, they heard a soft, sweet voice singing. It wasn't mamma; for she was only talking to baby, and this voice sang a real song. Presently they saw mamma's shadow onthe wall, and found it was the shadow-mother singing to theshadow-children. They listened intently, and this is what they heard:

 "Little shadows, little shadows, Dancing on the chamber wall, While I sit beside the hearthstone Where the red flames rise and fall. Caps and nightgowns, caps and nightgowns, My three antic shadows wear; And no sound they make in playing, For the six small feet are bare. 

 "Dancing gayly, dancing gayly, To and fro all together, Like a family of daisies Blown about in windy weather; Nimble fairies, nimble fairies, Playing pranks in the warm glow, While I sing the nursery ditties Childish phantoms love and know. 

 "Now what happens, now what happens? One small shadow's tumbled down: I can see it on the carpet, Softly rubbing its hurt crown. No one whimpers, no one whimpers; A brave-hearted sprite is this: See! the others offer comfort In a silent, shadowy kiss. 

 "Hush! they're creeping; hush! they're creeping, Up about my rocking-chair: I can feel their loving fingers Clasp my neck and touch my hair. Little shadows, little shadows, Take me captive, hold me tight, As they climb and cling and whisper, 'Mother dear, good night! good night!'"

As the song ended, the real children, as well as the shadows, lovinglykissed mamma, and said "Good-night;" then went away into their rooms, said their prayers, and nestled down into their beds. Ned slept alone inthe room next that which Polly and Will had; and, after lying quiet alittle while, he called out softly:

"I say, Polly, are you asleep?"

"No: I'm thinking what a queer day we've had, " answered Polly. 

"It's been a good day, and I'm glad we tried our wish; for the shadowsshowed us, as well as they could, what we ought to do and be. I shan'tforget it, shall you?" said Ned. 

"No: I'm much obliged for the lesson. "

"So is I, " called out Will, in a very earnest, but rather a sleepy, little voice. 

"I wonder what mamma will say, when we tell her about it, " said Ned. 

"And I wonder if our shadows will come back to us at midnight, andfollow us as they used to do, " added Polly. 

"I shall be very careful where I lead my shadow; 'cause he's a goodlittle one, and set me a righter zarmple than ever I did him, " saidWill, and then dropped asleep. 

The others agreed with him, and resolved that their shadows should notbe ashamed of them. All were fast asleep; and no one but the moon sawthe shadows come stealing back at midnight, and, having danced about thelittle beds, vanish as the clock struck twelve. 

VI. 

POPPY'S PRANKS. 

She wasn't a wilfully naughty child, this harum-scarum Poppy, but verythoughtless and very curious. She wanted to see every thing, do everything, and go every where: she feared nothing, and so was continuallygetting into scrapes. 

Her pranks began early; for, when she was about four, her mamma one daygave her a pair of green shoes with bright buttons. Poppy thought therenever was any thing so splendid, and immediately wanted to go to walk. But mamma was busy, and Poppy couldn't go alone any farther than thegarden. She showed her shoes to the servants, the cat, the doves, andthe flowers; and then opened the gate that the people in the streetmight see the trim little feet she was so proud of. Now Poppy had beenforbidden to go out; but, when she saw Kitty Allen, her neighbor, playing ball down the street, she forgot every thing but the desire toshow her new shoes; and away she went marching primly along as vain as alittle peacock, as she watched the bright buttons twinkle, and heard thecharming creak. Kitty saw her coming; and, being an ill-natured littlegirl, took no notice, but called out to her brother Jack:

"Ain't some folks grand? If I couldn't have red shoes for my best, Iwouldn't have any, would you?"

They both laughed, and this hurt Poppy's feelings dreadfully. She tossedher head, and tried to turn up her nose; but, it was so very small, itcouldn't be very scornful. She said nothing, but walked gravely by, asif she was going on an errand, and hadn't heard a word. Round the cornershe went, thinking she would wait till Kitty was gone; as she didn'tlike to pass again, fearing Jack might say something equally trying. Anorgan-man with a monkey was playing near by; and Poppy was soon so busylistening to the music, and watching the sad-looking monkey, that sheforgot home, shoes, and Kitty altogether. 

She followed the man a long way; and, when she turned to go back, shetook the wrong street, and found herself by the park. Being fond ofdandelions, Poppy went in, and gathered her hands full, enjoying herselfimmensely; for Betsy, the maid, never let her play in the pond, or rolldown the hill, or make dirt-pies, and now she did all these things, besides playing with strange children and talking with any one shepleased. If she had not had her luncheon just before she started, shewould have been very hungry; for dinner-time came, without her knowingit. 

By three o'clock, she began to think it was time to go home, and boldlystarted off to find it. But poor little Poppy didn't know the way, andwent all wrong. She was very tired now, and hot and hungry, and wantedto see mamma, and wondered why she didn't come to the brown house withthe white garden-gate. On and on she went, up streets and down, amusingherself with looking in the shop-windows, and sitting to rest ondoorsteps. Once she asked a pleasant-faced little girl to show her theway home; but, as she didn't know in what street it was, and said herfather's name was "papa, " the girl couldn't help her: so she gave her abun and went away. Poppy ate her bun, and began to wonder what wouldbecome of her; for night was coming on, and there didn't seem to be anyprospect of finding mamma or home or bed. Her courage was all gone now;and, coming to a quiet place, she sat down on some high steps, and criedtill her little "hankchif, " as she called it, was all wet. 

Nobody minded her: and she felt very forlorn till a big black dog cameby, and seemed to understand the matter entirely; for he smelt of herface, licked her hands, and then lay down by her with such a friendlylook in his brown eyes that Poppy was quite comforted. She told him herstory, patted his big head; and then, being fairly tired out, laid herwet cheek on his soft back, and fell fast asleep. 

It was quite dark when she woke; but a lamp was lighted near by, andstanding under it was a man ringing a great bell. Poppy sat up, andwondered if anybody's supper was ready. The man had a paper; and, whenpeople stopped at the sound of the bell, he read in a loud voice:

"Lost! a little girl, four years old; curly brown hair, blue eyes; hadon a white frock and green shoes; calls herself Poppy. "

He got no farther; for a little voice cried out of the dark, in a toneof surprise:

"Why, dats me!"

The people all turned to look; and the big man put his bell in hispocket, took her up very kindly, and said he'd carry her home. 

"Is it far away?" asked Poppy, with a little sob. 

"Yes, my dear; but I am going to give you some supper fust, along of mylittle girl. I live close by; and, when we've had a bite, we'll go findyour ma. "

Poppy was so tired and hungry, she was glad to find herself taken careof, and let the man do as he liked. He took her to a funny little house, and his wife gave her bread and molasses on a new tin plate with lettersall round the edge. Poppy thought it very fine, and enjoyed her supper, though the man's little girl stared at her all the time with eyes asblue as her mug. 

While she ate, the man sent word to her father that she was found; and, when both papa and mamma came hurrying in all out of breath with joy, there sat Miss Poppy talking merrily, with her face well daubed withmolasses, her gown torn, her hands very dirty, and her shoes--ah, thepretty new shoes!--all spoiled with mud and dust, scratched, and halfworn out, the buttons dull, and the color quite gone. No one cared forit that night; for little runaway was kissed and petted, and taken hometo her own cosey bed as tenderly as if she had done nothing naughty, andnever frightened her parents out of their wits in her life. 

But the next day, --dear me! what a sad time it was, to be sure! WhenPoppy woke up, there hung the spoilt shoes over the mantle-piece; and, as soon as she was dressed, papa came in with a long cord, one end ofwhich he tied round Poppy's waist, and the other to the arm of the sofa. 

"I'm very sorry to have to tie you up, like a little dog; but I must, oryou will forget, and run away again, and make mamma ill. "

Then he went away without his morning kiss, and Poppy was so veryunhappy she could hardly eat her breakfast. She felt better by and by, and tried to play; but the cord kept pulling her back. She couldn't getto the window; and, when she heard mamma passing the door, she tried torun and meet her, but had to stop halfway, for the cord jerked her over. Cousin Fanny came up, but Poppy was so ashamed to be tied that shecrept under the sofa and hid. All day she was a prisoner, and was a verymiserable little girl; but at night she was untied, and, when mamma tookher in her lap for the first time that day, Poppy held her fast, andsobbed very penitently--

"O mamma! I drefful sorry I runned away. Fordive me one time more, and Inever will adain;" and she never did. 

Two or three years after this, Poppy went to live in the country, andtried some new pranks. One day she went with her sister Nelly to see aman plough, for that sort of thing was new to her. While the man worked, she saw him take out a piece of something brown, and bite off a bit. 

"What's that?" asked Poppy. 

"Tobaccer, " said the man. 

"Is it nice?" asked Poppy. 

"Prime, " said the man. 

"Could you let me taste it?" asked curious Poppy. 

"It will make you sick, " said the man, laughing. 

"It doesn't make _you_ sick. I'd like to try, " said Poppy, nothingdaunted. 

He gave her a piece; and Poppy ate it, though it didn't taste good atall. She did it because Cy, her favorite playfellow, told her she'd dieif she did, and tried to frighten her. 

"You darsn't eat any more, " he said. 

"Yes, I dare. See if I don't. " And Poppy took another piece, just toshow how brave she was. Silly little Poppy!

"I ain't sick, and I shan't die, so now. "

And Poppy pranced about as briskly as ever. But the man shook his head, Nelly watched her anxiously, and Cy kept saying:

"Ain't you sick yet, say?"

For a little while Poppy felt all right; but presently she grew ratherpale, and began to look rather pensive. She stopped running, and walkedslower and slower, while her eyes got dizzy, and her hands and feet verycold. 

"Ain't you sick now, say?" repeated Cy; and Poppy tried to answer, "Oh, dear! no;" but a dreadful feeling came over her, and she could onlyshake her head, and hold on to Nelly. 

"Better lay down a spell, " said the man, looking a little troubled. 

"I don't wish to dirty my clean frock, " said Poppy faintly, as sheglanced over the wide-ploughed field, and longed for a bit of grass todrop on. She kept on bravely for another turn; but suddenly stopped, and, quite regardless of the clean pink gown, dropped down in a furrow, looking so white and queer that Nelly began to cry. Poppy lay a minute, then turned to Cy, and said very solemnly:

"Cy, run home, and tell my mother I'm dying. "

Away rushed Cy in a great fright, and burst upon Poppy's mamma, exclaiming breathlessly:

"O ma'am! Poppy's been and ate a lot of tobacco; and she's sick, layin'in the field; and she says 'Come quick, 'cause she's dyin. '"

"Mercy on us! what will happen to that child next?" cried poor mamma, who was used to Poppy's mishaps. Papa was away, and there was nocarriage to bring Poppy home in; so mamma took the little wheelbarrow, and trundled away to get the suffering Poppy. 

She couldn't speak when they got to her; and, only stopping to give theman a lecture, mamma picked up her silly little girl, and the processionmoved off. First came Cy, as grave as a sexton; then the wheelbarrowwith Poppy, white and limp and speechless, all in a bunch; then mamma, looking amused, anxious and angry; then Nelly, weeping as if her tenderheart was entirely broken; while the man watched them, with a grin, saying to himself:

"Twarn't my fault. The child was a reg'lar fool to swaller it. "

Poppy was dreadfully sick all night, but next day was ready for moreadventures and experiments. She swung on the garret stairs, and tumbleddown, nearly breaking her neck. She rubbed her eyes with red peppers, tosee if it _really_ would make them smart, as Cy said; and was led homequite blind and roaring with pain. She got into the pigsty to catch ayoung piggy, and was taken out in a sad state of dirt. She slipped intothe brook, and was half drowned; broke a window and her own head, swinging a little flat-iron on a string; dropped baby in the coal-hod;buried her doll, and spoilt her; cut off a bit of her finger, choppingwood; and broke a tooth, trying to turn heels over head on a haycock. These are only a few of her pranks, but one was nearly her last. 

She wanted to go bare-footed, as the little country boys and girls did;but mamma wasn't willing, and Poppy was much afflicted. 

"It doesn't hurt Cy, and it won't hurt me, just for a little while, " shesaid. 

"Say no more, Poppy. I never wish to see you barefooted, " replied mamma. 

"Well, you needn't: I'll go and do it in the barn, " muttered Poppy, asshe walked away. 

Into the barn she went, and played country girl to her heart's content, in spite of Nelly's warnings. Nelly never got into scrapes, being ahighly virtuous young lady; but she enjoyed Poppy's pranks, and weptover her misfortunes with sisterly fidelity. 

"Now I'll be a bear, and jump at you as you go by, " said Poppy, whenthey were tired of playing steam-engine with the old winnowing machine. So she got up on a beam; and Nelly, with a peck measure on her head fora hat, and a stick for a gun, went bear-hunting, and banged away at theswallows, the barrels, and the hencoops, till the bear was ready to eather. Presently, with a loud roar, the bear leaped; but Nelly wasn'teaten that time, for Poppy cried out with pain:

"Oh! I jumped on a pitchfork, and it's in my foot! Take it out! take itout!"

Poor little foot! There was a deep purple hole in the sole, and theblood came, and Poppy fainted away, and Nelly screamed, and mamma ran, and the neighbors rushed in, and there was _such_ a flurry. Poppy wassoon herself again, and lay on the sofa, with Nelly and Cy to amuse her. 

"What did the doctor say to mamma in the other room about me?" whisperedPoppy, feeling very important at having such a bustle made on heraccount. Nelly sniffed, but said nothing; Cy, however, spoke up briskly:

"He says you might have lockjaw. "

"Is that bad?" asked Poppy gravely. 

"Oh, ain't it, though! Your mouth shuts up, and you can't open it; andyou have fits and die. "

"Always?" said Poppy, looking scared, and feeling of her mouth. 

"'Most always, I guess. That's why your ma cried, and Nelly keepskissin' you. "

Cy felt sorry, but rather enjoyed the excitement, and was sure, that, ifany one ever _could_ escape dying, it would be Poppy, for she always"came alive" again after her worst mishaps. She looked very solemn for afew minutes, and kept opening and shutting her mouth to see if it wasn'tstiff. Presently she said, in a serious tone and with a pensive air:

"Nelly, I'll give you my bead-ring: I shan't want it any more. And Cymay have the little horse: he lost his tail; but I put on the lamb'stail, and he is as good as ever. I wish to give away my things 'fore Idie; and, Nelly, won't you bring me the scissors?"

"What for?" said Nelly, sniffing more than ever. 

"To cut off my hair for mamma. She'll want it, and I like to cutthings. "

Nelly got the scissors; and Poppy cut away all she could reach, givingdirections about her property while she snipped. 

"I wish papa to have my pictures and my piece of poetry I made. Givebaby my dolly and the quacking duck. Tell Billy, if he wants mycollection of bright buttons, he can have 'em; and give Hattie theyellow plaster dog, with my love. "

Here mamma came in with a poultice, and couldn't help laughing, thoughtears stood in her eyes, as she saw Poppy's cropped head and heard herlast wishes. 

"I don't think I shall lose my little girl yet, so we won't talk of it. But Poppy must keep quiet, and let Nelly wait on her for a few days. "

"Are fits bad, mamma? and does it hurt much to die?" asked Poppythoughtfully. 

"If people are good while they live, it is not hard to die, dear, " saidmamma, with a kiss; and Poppy hugged her, saying softly:

"Then I'll be very good; so I won't mind, if the jawlock does come. "

And Poppy _was_ good, --oh, dreadfully good! for a week. Quite an angelwas Poppy; so meek and gentle, so generous and obedient, you reallywouldn't have known her. She loved everybody, forgave her playmates alltheir sins against her, let Nelly take such of her precious treasures asshe liked, and pensively hoped baby would remember her when she wasgone. She hopped about with a crutch, and felt as if she was an objectof public interest; for all the old ladies sent to know how she was, thechildren looked at her with respectful awe as one set apart and doomedto fits, and Cy continually begged to know if her mouth was stiff. 

Poppy didn't die, though she got all ready for it; and felt ratherdisappointed when the foot healed, the jaws remained as active as ever, and the fits didn't come. I think it did her good; for she never forgotthat week, and, though she was near dying several times after, she neverwas so fit to go as she was then. 

"Burney's making jelly: let's go and get our scrapings, " said Poppy toNellie once, when mamma was away. 

But Burney was busy and cross, and cooks are not as patient as mothers;so when the children appeared, each armed with a spoon, and demandedtheir usual feast, she wouldn't hear of it, and ordered them off. 

"But we only want the scrapings of the pan, Burney: mamma always lets ushave them, when we help her make jelly; don't she, Nelly?" said Poppy, trying to explain the case. 

"Yes; and makes us our little potful too, " added Nelly, persuasively. 

"I don't want your help; so be off. Your ma can fuss with your pot, ifshe chooses. I've no time. "

"_I_ think Burney's the crossest woman in the world. It's mean to eatall the scrapings herself; isn't it Nelly?" said Poppy, very loud, asthe cook shut the door in their faces. "Never mind: I know how to payher, " she added, in a whisper, as they sat on the stairs bewailing theirwrongs. "She'll put her old jelly in the big closet, and lock the door;but we can climb the plum tree, and get in at the window, when she takesher nap. "

"Should we dare to eat any?" asked Nelly, timid, but longing for theforbidden fruit. 

"_I_ should; just as much as ever I like. It's mamma's jelly, and shewon't mind. I don't care for old cross Burney, " said Poppy, sliding downthe banisters by way of soothing her ruffled spirit. 

So when Burney went to her room after dinner, the two rogues climbed inat the window; and, each taking a jar, sat on the shelf, dipping intheir fingers and revelling rapturously. But Burney wasn't asleep, and, hearing a noise below, crept down to see what mischief was going on. Pausing in the entry to listen, she heard whispering, clattering ofglasses, and smacking of lips in the big closet; and in a moment knewthat her jelly was lost. She tried the door with her key; but sly Poppyhad bolted it on the inside, and, feeling quite safe, defied Burney fromamong the jelly-pots, entirely reckless of consequences. Short-sightedPoppy! she forgot Cy; but Burney didn't, and sent him to climb in at thewindow, and undo the door. Feeling hurt that the young ladies hadn'tasked him to the feast, Cy hardened his heart against them, anddelivered them up to the enemy, regardless of Poppy's threats andNelly's prayers. 

"Poppy proposed it, she broke the jar, and I didn't eat _much_. OBurney! don't hurt her, please, but let me 'splain it to mamma when shecomes, " sobbed Nelly, as Burney seized Poppy, and gave her a goodshaking. 

"You go wash your face, Miss Nelly, and leave this naughty, naughtychild to me, " said Burney; and took Poppy, kicking and screaming, intothe little library, where she--oh, dreadful to relate!--gave her a goodspanking, and locked her up. 

Mamma never whipped, and Poppy was in a great rage at such an indignity. The minute she was left alone, she looked about to see how she could berevenged. A solar lamp stood on the table; and Poppy coolly tipped itover, with a fine smash, calling out to Burney that she'd have to payfor it, that mamma would be very angry, and that she, Poppy, was goingto spoil every thing in the room. But Burney was gone, and no one camenear her. She kicked the paint off the door, rattled the latch, calledBurney a "pig, " and Cy "a badder boy than the man who smothered thelittle princes in the Tower. " Poppy was very fond of that story, andoften played it with Nelly and the dolls. Having relieved her feelingsin this way, Poppy rested, and then set about amusing herself. Observingthat the spilt oil made the table shine, she took her handkerchief andpolished up the furniture, as she had seen the maids do. 

"Now, that looks nice; and I know mamma will be pleased 'cause I'm sotidy, " she said, surveying her work with pride, when she had thoroughlygreased every table, chair, picture-frame, book-back, and ornament inthe room. Plenty of oil still remained; and Poppy finished off byoiling her hair, till it shone finely, and smelt--dear me, how it didsmell! If she had been a young whale, it couldn't have been worse. Poppywasn't particular about smells; but she got some in her mouth, anddidn't like the taste. There was no water to wash in; and her hands, face, and pinafore were in a high state of grease. She was rather lonelytoo; for, though mamma had got home, she didn't come to let Poppy out:so the young rebel thought it was about time to surrender. She couldwrite pretty well, and was fond of sending penitent notes to mamma, after being naughty: for mamma always answered them so kindly, and wasso forgiving, that Poppy's naughtiest mood was conquered by them soonerthan by any punishment; and Poppy kept the notes carefully in a littlecover, even after she was grown up. There was pen, ink, and paper in theroom; so, after various trials, Poppy wrote her note:--

 "dear Mamma. 

 "i am sorry i Took bernys gelli. I have braked The lamP. The oyl maks A bad smel. I tHink i wil Bee sik iF i stay HeRe anny More. I LoVe yoU--your Trying To Bee GooD

 popy. "

When she had finished, she lowered her note by a string, and bobbed itup and down before the parlor window till Nelly saw and took it in. Every one laughed over it; for, besides the bad spelling and the funnyperiods, it was covered with oil-spots, blots, and tear marks; for Poppygot tender-hearted toward the end, and cried a few very repentant tearswhen she said, "I love you; your trying-to-be-good Poppy. "

Mamma went up at once, and ordered no further punishment, but a thoroughscrubbing; which Poppy underwent very meekly, though Betsey put soap inher eyes, pulled her hair, and scolded all the time. They were notallowed any jelly for a long while; and Cy teased Poppy about herhair-oil till the joke was quite worn out, and even cross Burney wassatisfied with the atonement. 

When Poppy was eight, she got so very wild that no one could manage herbut mamma, and she was ill; so Poppy was sent away to grandpa's for avisit. Now, grandpa was a very stately old gentleman, and every onetreated him with great respect; but Poppy wasn't at all afraid, andasked all manner of impolite questions. 

"Grandpa, why don't you have any hair on the top of your head?"--"Ograndpa! you _do_ snore _so_ loud when you take naps!"--"What makes youturn out your feet so, when you walk?" and such things. 

If grandpa hadn't been the best-natured old gentleman in the world, hewouldn't have liked this: but he only laughed at Poppy, especially whenshe spoke of his legs; for he was rather proud of them, and always worelong black silk stockings, and told every one that the legs were sohandsome an artist put them in a picture of General Washington; whichwas quite true, as any one may see when they look at the famous picturein Boston. 

Well, Poppy behaved herself respectably for a day or two; but the housewas rather dull, she missed Nelly, wanted to run in the street, andlonged to see mamma. She amused herself as well as she could withpicture-books, patchwork, and the old cat; but, not being a quiet, proper, little Rosamond sort of a child, she got tired of hemming neatpocket-handkerchiefs, and putting her needle carefully away when she haddone. She wanted to romp and shout, and slide down the banisters, andriot about; so, when she couldn't be quiet another minute, she went upinto a great empty room at the top of the house, and cut up all sorts ofcapers. Her great delight was to lean out of the window as far as shecould, and look at the people in the street, with her head upside down. It was very dangerous, for a fall would have killed her; but the dangerwas the fun, and Poppy hung out till her hands touched the ledge below, and her face was as red as any real poppy's. 

She was enjoying herself in this way one day, when an old gentleman, who lived near, came home to dinner, and saw her. 

"What in the world is that hanging out of the colonel's upper window?"said he, putting on his spectacles. "Bless my soul! that child will killherself. Hallo, there! little girl; get in this minute!" he called toPoppy, flourishing his hat to make her see him. 

"What for?" answered Poppy, staring at him without moving an inch. 

"You'll fall, and break your neck!" screamed the old gentleman. 

"Oh, no, I shan't!" returned Poppy, much flattered by his interest, andhanging out still further. 

"Stop that, instantly, or I'll go in and inform the colonel!" roared theold gentleman, getting angry. 

"I don't care, " shouted Poppy; and she didn't, for she knew grandpawasn't at home. 

"Little gipsy! I'll settle her, " muttered the old man, bustling up tothe steps, and ringing the bell, as if the house was on fire. 

No one was in but the servants; and, when he'd told old Emily what thematter was, she went up to "settle" Poppy. But Poppy was alreadysettled, demurely playing with her doll, and looking quite innocent. Emily scolded; and Poppy promised never to do it again, if she mightstay and play in the big room. Being busy about dinner, Emily was gladto be rid of her, and left her, to go and tell the old gentleman it wasall right. 

"Ain't they crosspatches?" said Poppy to her doll. "Never mind, dear:_you_ shall hang out, if I can't. I guess the old man won't order youin, any way. "

Full of this idea, Poppy took her long-suffering dolly, and, tying astring to her neck, danced her out of the window. Now this dolly hadbeen through a great deal. Her head had been cut off (and put on again);she had been washed, buried, burnt, torn, soiled, and banged about tillshe was a mournful object. Poppy loved her very much; for she was twofeet tall, and had once been very handsome: so her trials only endearedher to her little mamma. Away she went, skipping and prancing likemad, --a funny sight, for Poppy had taken off her clothes, and she hadn'ta hair on her head. 

Poppy went to another window of the room for this performance, becausein the opposite house lived five or six children, and she thought theywould enjoy the fun. 

So they did, and so did the other people; for it was a boarding-house, and all the people were at home for dinner. They came to the windows, and looked and laughed at dolly's capers, and Poppy was in high featherat the success of her entertainment. 

All of a sudden she saw grandpa coming down the street, hands behindhis back, feet turned out, gold-headed cane under his arm, and thehandsome legs in the black silk stockings marching along in the moststately manner. Poppy whisked dolly in before grandpa saw her, anddodged down as he went by. This made the people laugh again, and grandpawondered what the joke was. The minute he went in out flew dolly, dancing more frantically than ever; and the children shouted so loudthat grandpa went to see what the matter was. The street was empty; yetthere stood the people, staring out and laughing. Yes; they wereactually looking and laughing at _his_ house; and he didn't see whatthere was to laugh at in that highly respectable mansion. 

He didn't like it; and, clapping on his hat, he went out to learn whatthe matter was. He looked over at the house, up at the sky, down at theground, and through the street; but nothing funny appeared, for Poppyand dolly were hidden again, and the old gentleman was puzzled. He wentin and sat down to watch, feeling rather disturbed. Presently the funbegan again: the children clapped their hands, the people laughed, andevery one looked over at the house, in what he thought a veryimpertinent way. This made him angry; and out he rushed a second time, saying, as he marched across the street:

"If those saucy young fellows are making game of me, I'll soon stopit. "

Up to the door he went, gave a great pull at the bell, and, when theservant came, he demanded why every one was laughing at his house. Oneof the young men came and told him, and asked him to come in and see thefun. Poppy didn't see grandpa go in, for she hid, and when she lookedout he was gone: so she boldly began the dancing; but, in the midst of alively caper, dolly went bounce into the garden below, for the stringfell from Poppy's hand when she suddenly saw grandpa at the windowopposite, laughing as heartily as any one at her prank. 

She stared at him in a great fright, and looked so amazed that every oneenjoyed that joke better than the other; and poor Poppy didn't hear thelast of it for a long time. 

Her next performance was to fall into the pond on the Common. She wasdriving hoop down the hill, and went so fast she couldn't stop herself;so splashed into the water, hoop and all. How dreadful it was to feelthe cold waves go over her head, shutting out the sun and air! Theground was gone, and she could find no place for her feet, and couldonly struggle and choke, and go down, down, with a loud roaring sound inher ears. That would have been the end of Poppy, if a little black boyhadn't jumped in and pulled her out. She was sick and dizzy, and lookedlike a drowned kitten; but a kind lady took her home in a carriage. After that mishap grandpa thought he wouldn't keep her any longer, forfear she should come to some worse harm. So Miss Poppy was sent home, much to her delight and much to mamma's also; for no matter where shewent, or how naughty she was, mamma was always glad to see the littlewanderer back, and to forgive and forget all Poppy's pranks. 

VII. 

WHAT THE SWALLOWS DID. 

A man lay on a pile of new-made hay, in a great barn, looking up at theswallows who darted and twittered above him. He envied the cheerfullittle creatures; for he wasn't a happy man, though he had many friends, much money, and the beautiful gift of writing songs that everybody lovedto sing. He had lost his wife and little child, and would not becomforted; but lived alone, and went about with such a gloomy face thatno one liked to speak to him. He took no notice of friends andneighbors; neither used his money for himself nor others; found nobeauty in the world, no happiness anywhere; and wrote such sad songs itmade one's heart ache to sing them. 

As he lay alone on the sweet-smelling hay, with the afternoon sunshinestreaming in, and the busy birds chirping overhead, he said sadly tohimself:

"Happy swallows, I wish I were one of you; for you have no pains norsorrows, and your cares are very light. All summer you live gaylytogether; and, when winter comes, you fly away to the lovely South, unseparated still. "

"Neighbors, do you hear what that lazy creature down there is saying?"cried a swallow, peeping over the edge of her nest, and addressingseveral others who sat on a beam near by. 

"We hear, Mrs. Skim; and quite agree with you that he knows very littleabout us and our affairs, " answered one of the swallows with a shrillchirp, like a scornful laugh. "We work harder than he does any day. Didhe build his own house, I should like to know? Does he get his dailybread for himself? How many of his neighbors does he help? How much ofthe world does he see, and who is the happier for his being alive?"

"Cares indeed!" cried another; "I wish he'd undertake to feed and teachmy brood. Much he knows about the anxieties of a parent. " And the littlemother bustled away to get supper for the young ones, whose bills werealways gaping wide. 

"Sorrows we have, too, " softly said the fourth swallow. "He would notenvy _me_, if he knew how my nest fell, and all my children were killed;how my dear husband was shot, and my old mother died of fatigue on ourspring journey from the South. "

"Dear neighbor Dart, he _would_ envy you, if he knew how patiently youbear your troubles; how tenderly you help us with our little ones; howcheerfully you serve your friends; how faithfully you love your lostmate; and how trustfully you wait to meet him again in a loveliercountry than the South. "

As Skim spoke, she leaned down from her nest to kiss her neighbor; and, as the little beaks met, the other birds gave a grateful and approvingmurmur, for Neighbor Dart was much beloved by all the inhabitants ofTwittertown. 

"I, for my part, don't envy _him_, " said Gossip Wing, who was fond ofspeaking her mind. "Men and women call themselves superior beings; but, upon my word, I think they are vastly inferior to us. Now, look at thatman, and see how he wastes his life. There never was any one with abetter chance for doing good, and being happy; and yet he mopes anddawdles his time away most shamefully. "

"Ah! he has had a great sorrow, and it is hard to be gay with a heavyheart, an empty home; so don't be too severe, Sister Wing. " And thewhite tie of the little widow's cap was stirred by a long sigh as Mrs. Dart glanced up at the nook where her nest once stood. 

"No, my dear, I won't; but really I do get out of patience when I see somuch real misery which that man might help, if he'd only forget himselfa little. It's my opinion he'd be much happier than he now is, wanderingabout with a dismal face and a sour temper. "

"I quite agree with you; and I dare say he'd thank any one for tellinghim how he may find comfort. Poor soul! I wish he could understand me;for I sympathize with him, and would gladly help him if I could. "

And, as she spoke, kind-hearted Widow Dart skimmed by him with afriendly chirp, which did comfort him; for, being a poet, he _could_understand them, and lay listening, well pleased while the littlegossips chattered on together. 

"I am so tied at home just now, that I know nothing of what is going on, except the bits of news Skim brings me; so I enjoy your chat immensely. I'm interested in your views on this subject, and beg you'll tell mewhat you'd have that man do to better himself, " said Mrs. Skim, settlingherself on her eggs with an attentive air. 

"Well, my dear, I'll tell you; for I've seen a deal of the world, andany one is welcome to my experience, " replied Mrs. Wing, in an importantmanner; for she was proud of her "views, " and very fond of talking. "Inmy daily flights about the place, I see a great deal of poverty andtrouble, and often wish I could lend a hand. Now, this man has plenty ofmoney and time; and he might do more good than I can tell, if he'd onlyset about it. Because he is what they call a poet is no reason he shouldgo moaning up and down, as if he had nothing to do but make songs. Wesing, but we work also; and are wise enough to see the necessity ofboth, thank goodness!"

"Yes, indeed, we do, " cried all the birds in a chorus; for several morehad stopped to hear what was going on. 

"Now, what I say is this, " continued Mrs. Wing impressively. "If I werethat man, I'd make myself useful at once. There is poor little Willgetting more and more lame every day, because his mother can't send himwhere he can be cured. A trifle of that man's money would do it, and heought to give it. Old Father Winter is half starved, alone there in hismiserable hovel; and no one thinks of the good old man. Why don't thatlazy creature take him home, and care for him, the little while he hasto live? Pretty Nell is working day and night, to support her father, and is too proud to ask help, though her health and courage are goingfast. The man might make hers the gayest heart alive, by a little help. There in a lonely garret lives a young man studying his life away, longing for books and a teacher. The man has a library full, and mightkeep the poor boy from despair by a little help and a friendly word. Hemourns for his own lost baby: I advise him to adopt the orphan whomnobody will own, and who lies wailing all day untended on the poor-housefloor. Yes: if he wants to forget sorrow and find peace, let him fillhis empty heart and home with such as these, and life won't seem dark tohim any more. "

"Dear me! how well you express yourself, Mrs. Wing; it's quite apleasure to hear you; and I heartily wish some persons could hear you, it would do 'em a deal of good, " said Mrs. Skim; while her husband gavean approving nod as he dived off the beam, and vanished through the opendoors. 

"I know it would comfort that man to do these things; for I have triedthe same cure in my small way, and found great satisfaction in it, "began little Madame Dart, in her soft voice; but Mrs. Wing broke in, saying with a pious expression of countenance:

"I flew into church one day, and sat on the organ enjoying the music;for every one was singing, and I joined in, though I didn't know theair. Opposite me were two great tablets with golden letters on them. Ican read a little, thanks to my friend, the learned raven; and so Ispelt out some of the words. One was, 'Love thy neighbor;' and as I satthere, looking down on the people, I wondered how they could see thosewords week after week, and yet pay so little heed to them. Goodnessknows, _I_ don't consider myself a perfect bird; far from it; for I knowI am a poor, erring fowl; but I believe I may say I _do_ love myneighbor, though I _am_ 'an inferior creature. '" And Mrs. Wing bridledup, as if she resented the phrase immensely. 

"Indeed you do, gossip, " cried Dart and Skim; for Wing was an excellentbird, in spite of the good opinion she had of herself. 

"Thank you: well, then, such being the known fact, I may give advice onthe subject as one having authority; and, if it were possible, I'd givethat man a bit of my mind. "

"You have, madam, you have; and I shall not forget it. Thank you, neighbors, and good night, " said the man, as he left the barn, with thefirst smile on his face which it had worn for many days. 

"Mercy on us! I do believe the creature heard every thing we said, "cried Mrs. Wing, nearly tumbling off the beam, in her surprise. 

"He certainly did; so I'm glad I was guarded in my remarks, " repliedMrs. Skim, laughing at her neighbor's dismay. 

"Dear me! dear me! what did I say?" cried Mrs. Wing, in a great twitter. 

"You spoke with more than your usual bluntness, and some of yourexpressions were rather strong, I must confess; but I don't think anyharm will come of it. We are of too little consequence for ourcriticisms or opinions to annoy him, " said Mrs. Dart consolingly. 

"I don't know that, ma'am, " returned Mrs. Wing, sharply: for she wasmuch ruffled and out of temper. "A cat may look at a king; and a birdmay teach a man, if the bird is the wisest. He may destroy my nest, andtake my life; but I feel that I have done my duty, and shall meetaffliction with a firmness which will be an example to that indolent, ungrateful man. "

In spite of her boasted firmness, Mrs. Wing dropped her voice, andpeeped over the beam, to be sure the man was gone before she called himnames; and then flew away, to discover what he meant to do about it. 

For several days, there was much excitement in Twittertown; for news ofwhat had happened flew from nest to nest, and every bird was anxious toknow what revenge the man would take for the impertinent remarks whichhad been made about him. 

Mrs. Wing was in a dreadful state of mind, expecting an assault, and thedestruction of her entire family. Every one blamed her. Her husbandlectured; the young birds chirped, "Chatterbox, chatterbox, " as shepassed; and her best friends were a little cool. All this made her verymeek for a time; and she scarcely opened her bill, except to eat. 

A guard was set day and night, to see if any danger approached; and arow of swallows might be seen on the ridgepole at all hours. If any oneentered the barn, dozens of little black heads peeped cautiously overthe edges of the nests, and there was much flying to and fro withreports and rumors; for all the birds in the town soon knew thatsomething had happened. 

The day after the imprudent conversation, a chimney-swallow came to callon Mrs. Wing; and, the moment she was seated on the beam, she began:

"My dear creature, I feel for you in your trying position, --indeed I do, and came over at once to warn you of your danger. "

"Mercy on us! what is coming?" cried Mrs. Wing, covering her brood withtrembling wings, and looking quite wild with alarm. 

"Be calm, my friend, and bear with firmness the consequences of yourfolly, " replied Mrs. Sooty-back, who didn't like Mrs. Wing, becauseshe prided herself on her family, and rather looked down onchimney-swallows. "You know, ma'am, I live at the great house, and am inthe way of seeing and hearing all that goes on there. No fire is lightedin the study now; but my landlord still sits on the hearth, and I canoverhear every word he says. Last evening, after my darlings wereasleep, and my husband gone out, I went down and sat on the andiron, asI often do; for the fireplace is full of oak boughs, and I can peep outunseen. My landlord sat there, looking a trifle more cheerful thanusual, and I heard him say, in a very decided tone:

"'I'll catch them, one and all, and keep them here; that is better thanpulling the place down, as I planned at first. Those swallows littleknow what they have done; but I'll show them I don't forget. '"

On hearing this a general wail arose, and Mrs. Wing fainted entirelyaway. Madam Sooty-back was quite satisfied with the effect she hadproduced, and departed, saying loftily:

"I'm sorry for you, Mrs. Wing, and forgive your rude speech about mybeing related to chimney-sweeps. One can't expect good manners frompersons brought up in mud houses, and entirely shut out from goodsociety. If I hear any thing more, I'll let you know. "

Away she flew; and poor Mrs. Wing would have had another fit, if theyhadn't tickled her with a feather, and fanned her so violently that shewas nearly blown off her nest by the breeze they raised. 

"What shall we do?" she cried. 

"Nothing, but wait. I dare say, Mrs. Sooty-back is mistaken; at anyrate, we can't get away without leaving our children, for they can't flyyet. Let us wait, and see what happens. If the worst comes, we shallhave done our duty, and will all die together. "

As no one could suggest any thing better, Mrs. Dart's advice was taken, and they waited. On the afternoon of the same day, Dr. Banks, asand-swallow, who lived in a subterranean village over by the greatsand-bank, looked in to see Mrs. Wing, and cheered her by the followingbit of news:

"The man was down at the poor-house to-day, and took away little Nan, the orphan baby. I saw him carry her to Will's mother, and heard him askher to take care of it for a time. He paid her well, and she seemed gladto do it; for Will needs help, and now he can have it. An excellentarrangement, I think. Bless me, ma'am! what's the matter? Your pulse isaltogether too fast, and you look feverish. "

No wonder the doctor looked surprised; for Mrs. Wing suddenly gave askip, and flapped her wings, with a shrill chirp, exclaiming, as shelooked about her triumphantly:

"Now, who was right? Who has done good, not harm, by what you call'gossip'? Who has been a martyr, and patiently borne all kinds of blame, injustice, and disrespect? Yes, indeed! the man saw the sense of mywords; he took my advice; he will show his gratitude by some good turnyet; and, if half a dozen poor souls are helped, it will be my doing, and mine alone. "

Here she had to stop for breath; and her neighbors all looked at oneanother, feeling undecided whether to own they were wrong, or to putMrs. Wing down. Every one twittered and chirped, and made a great noise;but no one would give up, and all went to roost in a great state ofuncertainty. But, the next day, it became evident that Mrs. Wing wasright; for Major Bumble-bee came buzzing in to tell them that old DaddyWinter's hut was empty, and his white head had been seen in the sunnyporch of the great house. 

After this the swallows gave in; and, as no harm came to them, they hada jubilee in honor of the occasion. Mrs. Wing was president, andreceived a vote of thanks for the good she had done, and the credit shehad bestowed upon the town by her wisdom and courage. She was muchelated by all this; but her fright had been of service, and she bore herhonors more meekly than one would have supposed. To be sure, she cutMrs. Sooty-back when they met; assumed an injured air, when some of herneighbors passed her; and said, "I told you so, " a dozen times a day toher husband, who got so many curtain lectures that he took to sleepingon the highest rafter, pretending that the children's noise disturbedhim. 

All sorts of charming things happened after that, and such a fine summernever was known before; for not only did the birds rejoice, but peoplealso. A good spirit seemed to haunt the town, leaving help and happinesswherever it passed. Some unseen hand scattered crumbs over the barnfloor, and left food at many doors. No dog or boy or gun marred thetranquillity of the birds, insects, and flowers who lived on the greatestate. No want, care, or suffering, that love or money could prevent, befell the poor folk whose cottages stood near the old house. Sunshineand peace seemed to reign there; for its gloomy master was a changed mannow, and the happiness he earned for himself, by giving it to others, flowed out in beautiful, blithe songs, and went singing away into theworld, making him friends, and bringing him honor in high places as wellas low. 

He did not forget the wife and little child whom he had loved so well;but he mourned no longer, for cheerful daisies grew above their graves, and he knew that he should meet them in the lovely land where death cannever come. So, while he waited for that happy time to come, he made hislife a cheery song, --as every one may do, if they will; and went aboutdropping kind words and deeds as silently and sweetly as the sky dropssunshine and dew. Every one was his friend, but his favorites were theswallows. Every day he went to see them, carrying grain and crumbs, hearing their chat, sharing their joys and sorrows, and never tiring oftheir small friendship; for to them, he thought, he owed all the contentnow his. 

When autumn leaves were red, and autumn winds blew cold, the inhabitantsof Twittertown prepared for their journey to the South. They lingeredlonger than usual this year, feeling sorry to leave their friend. Butthe fields were bare, the frosts began to pinch, and the young oneslonged to see the world; so they must go. The day they started, thewhole flock flew to the great house, to say good-by. Some dived anddarted round and round it, some hopped to and fro on the sere lawn, someperched on the chimney-tops, and some clung to the window ledges; alltwittering a loving farewell. 

Chirp, Dart, and Wing peeped everywhere, and everywhere found somethingto rejoice over. In a cosey room, by a bright fire, sat Daddy Winter andNell's old father, telling stories of their youth, and basking in thecomfortable warmth. In the study, surrounded by the books he loved, wasthe poor young man, happy as a king now, and learning many things whichno book could teach him; for he had found a friend. Then, down below wasWill's mother, working like a bee; for she was housekeeper, and enjoyedher tasks as much as any mother-bird enjoys filling the little mouths ofher brood. Close by was pretty Nell, prettier than ever now; for herheavy care was gone, and she sung as she sewed, thinking of the oldfather, whom nothing could trouble any more. 

But the pleasantest sight the three gossips saw was the man with BabyNan on his arm and Will at his side, playing in the once dreary nursery. How they laughed and danced! for Will was up from his bed at last, andhopped nimbly on his crutches, knowing that soon even they would beunneeded. Little Nan was as plump and rosy as a baby should be, andbabbled like a brook, as the man went to and fro, cradling her in hisstrong arms, feeling as if his own little daughter had come back when heheard the baby voice call him father. 

"Ah, how sweet it is!" cried Mrs. Dart, glad to see that he had foundcomfort for his grief. 

"Yes; indeed: it does one's heart good to see such a happy family, "added Mrs. Skim, who was a very motherly bird. 

"I don't wish to boast; but I _will_ say that I am satisfied with mysummer's work, and go South feeling that I leave an enviable reputationbehind me. " And Mrs. Wing plumed herself with an air of immenseimportance, as she nodded and bridled from her perch on the window-sill. 

The man saw the three, and hastened to feed them for the last time, knowing that they were about to go. Gratefully they ate, and chirpedtheir thanks; and then, as they flew away, the little gossips heardtheir friend singing his good-by:

 "Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow, Starting on your autumn flight, Pause a moment at my window, Twitter softly your good-night; For the summer days are over, All your duties are well done, And the happy homes you builded Have grown empty, one by one. 

 "Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow, Are you ready for your flight? Are all the feather cloaks completed? Are the little caps all right? Are the young wings strong and steady For the journey through the sky? Come again in early spring-time; And till then, good-by, good-by!"

VIII. 

LITTLE GULLIVER. 

Up in the light-house tower lived Davy, with Old Dan the keeper. Mostlittle boys would have found it very lonely; but Davy had three friends, and was as happy as the day was long. One of Davy's friends was thegreat lamp, which was lighted at sunset, and burnt all night, to guidethe ships into the harbor. To Dan it was only a lamp; but to the boy itseemed a living thing, and he loved and tended it faithfully. Every dayhe helped Dan clear the big wick, polish the brass work, and wash theglass lantern which protected the flame. Every evening he went up to seeit lighted, and always fell asleep, thinking, "No matter how dark orwild the night, my good Shine will save the ships that pass, and burntill morning. "

Davy's second friend was Nep, the Newfoundland, who was washed ashorefrom a wreck, and had never left the island since. Nep was rough andbig, but had such a loyal and loving heart that no one could look in hissoft brown eyes and not trust him. He followed Davy's steps all day, slept at his feet all night, and more than once had saved his life whenDavy fell among the rocks, or got caught by the rising tide. 

But the dearest friend of all was a sea-gull. Davy found him, with abroken wing, and nursed him carefully till he was well; then let him go, though he was very fond of "Little Gulliver, " as he called him in fun. But the bird never forgot the boy, and came daily to talk with him, telling all manner of wild stories about his wanderings by land and sea, and whiling away many an hour that otherwise would have been verylonely. 

Old Dan was Davy's uncle, --a grim, gray man, who said little, did hiswork faithfully, and was both father and mother to Davy, who had noparents, and no friends beyond the island. That was his world; and heled a quiet life among his playfellows, --the winds and waves. He seldomwent to the main land, three miles away; for he was happier at home. Hewatched the sea-anemones open below the water, looking likefairy-plants, brilliant and strange. He found curious and pretty shells, and sometimes more valuable treasures, washed up from some wreck. He sawlittle yellow crabs, ugly lobsters, and queer horse-shoes with theirstiff tails. Sometimes a whale or a shark swam by, and often sleek blackseals came up to bask on the warm rocks. He gathered lovely sea-weeds ofall kinds, from tiny red cobwebs to great scalloped leaves of kelp, longer than himself. He heard the waves dash and roar unceasingly; thewinds howl or sigh over the island; and the gulls scream shrilly as theydipped and dived, or sailed away to follow the ships that came and wentfrom all parts of the world. 

With Nep and Gulliver he roamed about his small kingdom, never tired ofits wonders; or, if storms raged, he sat up in the tower, safe and dry, watching the tumult of sea and sky. Often in long winter nights he layawake, listening to the wind and rain, that made the tower rock withtheir violence; but he never was afraid, for Nep nestled at his feet, Dan sat close by, and overhead the great lamp shone far out into thenight, to cheer and guide all wanderers on the sea. 

Close by the tower hung the fog-bell, which, being wound up, would ringall night, warningly. One day Dan found that something among the chainswas broken; and, having vainly tried to mend it, he decided to go to thetown, and get what was needed. He went once a week, usually, and leftDavy behind; for in the daytime there was nothing to do, and the boy wasnot afraid to stay. 

"A heavy fog is blowing up: we shall want the bell to-night, and I mustbe off at once. I shall be back before dark, of course; so take care ofyourself, boy, " said Dan. 

Away went the little boat; and the fog shut down over it, as if a mistywall had parted Davy from his uncle. As it was dull weather, he sat andread for an hour or two; then fell asleep, and forgot everything tillNep's cold nose on his hand waked him up. It was nearly dark; and, hoping to find Dan had come, he ran down to the landing-place. But noboat was there, and the fog was thicker than ever. 

Dan never had been gone so long before, and Davy was afraid somethinghad happened to him. For a few minutes he was in great trouble; then hecheered up, and took courage. 

"It is sunset by the clock; so I'll light the lamp, and, if Dan is lostin the fog, it will guide him home, " said Davy. 

Up he went, and soon the great star shone out above the black-toppedlight-house, glimmering through the fog, as if eager to be seen. Davyhad his supper, but no Dan came. He waited hour after hour, and waitedall in vain. The fog thickened, till the lamp was hardly seen; and nobell rung to warn the ships of the dangerous rocks. Poor Davy could notsleep, but all night long wandered from the tower to the door, watching, calling, and wondering; but Dan did not come. 

At sunrise he put out the light, and, having trimmed it for the nextnight, ate a little breakfast, and roved about the island hoping to seesome sign of Dan. The sun drew up the fog at last; and he could see theblue bay, the distant town, and a few fishing-boats going out to sea. But nowhere was the island-boat with gray Old Dan in it; and Davy'sheart grew heavier and heavier, as the day passed, and still no onecame. In the afternoon Gulliver appeared: to him Davy told his trouble, and the three friends took counsel together. 

"There is no other boat; and I couldn't row so far, if there was: so Ican't go to find Dan, " said David sorrowfully. 

"I'd gladly swim to town, if I could; but it's impossible to do it, withwind and tide against me. I've howled all day, hoping some one wouldhear me; but no one does, and I'm discouraged, " said Nep, with ananxious expression. 

"I can do something for you; and I will, with all my heart. I'll fly totown, if I don't see him in the bay, and try to learn what has become ofDan. Then I'll come and tell you, and we will see what is to be donenext. Cheer up, Davy dear: I'll bring you tidings, if any can be had. "With these cheerful words, away sailed Gulliver, leaving Nep and hismaster to watch and wait again. 

The wind blew hard, and the broken wing was not quite well yet, elseGulliver would have been able to steer clear of a boat that came swiftlyby. A sudden gust drove the gull so violently against the sail that hedropped breathless into the boat; and a little girl caught him, beforehe could recover himself. 

"Oh, what a lovely bird! See his black cap, his white breast, dove-colored wings, red legs and bill, and soft, bright eyes. I wanted agull; and I'll keep this one, for I don't think he is much hurt. "

Poor Gulliver struggled, pecked and screamed; but little Dora held himfast, and shut him in a basket till they reached the shore. Then she puthim in a lobster pot, --a large wooden thing, something like a cage, --andleft him on the lawn, where he could catch glimpses of the sea, andwatch the light-house tower, as he sat alone in this dreadful prison. IfDora had known the truth, she would have let him go, and done her bestto help him; but she could not understand his speech, as Davy did, forvery few people have the power of talking with birds, beasts, insects, and plants. To her, his prayers and cries were only harsh screams; and, when he sat silent, with drooping head and ruffled feathers, she thoughthe was sleepy: but he was mourning for Davy, and wondering what hislittle friend would do. 

For three long days and nights he was a prisoner, and suffered much. Thehouse was full of happy people, but no one took pity upon him. Ladiesand gentlemen talked learnedly about him; boys poked and pulled him;little girls admired him, and begged his wings for their hats, if hedied. Cats prowled about his cage; dogs barked at him; hens cackled overhim; and a shrill canary jeered at him from the pretty pagoda in whichit hung, high above danger. In the evening there was music; and the poorbird's heart ached as the sweet sounds came to him, reminding him of theairier melodies he loved. Through the stillness of the night, he heardthe waves break on the shore; the wind came singing up from the sea; themoon shone kindly on him, and he saw the water-fairies dancing on thesand. But for three days no one spoke a friendly word to him, and hepined away with a broken heart. 

On the fourth night, when all was quiet, little Gulliver saw a blackshadow steal across the lawn, and heard a soft voice say to him:

"Poor bird, you'll die, if yer stays here; so I'se gwine to let yer go. Specs little missy'll scold dreffle; but Moppet'll take de scoldin foryer. Hi, dere! you is peart nuff now, kase you's in a hurry to go; butjes wait till I gits de knots out of de string dat ties de door, and denaway you flies. "

"But, dear, kind Moppet, won't you be hurt for doing this? Why do youcare so much for me? I can only thank you, and fly away. "

As Gulliver spoke, he looked up at the little black face bent over him, and saw tears in the child's sad eyes; but she smiled at him, and shookher fuzzy head, as she whispered kindly:

"I don't want no tanks, birdie: I loves to let you go, kase you's aslave, like I was once; and it's a dreffle hard ting, I knows. I gotaway, and I means you shall. I'se watched you, deary, all dese days; andI tried to come 'fore, but dey didn't give me no chance. "

"Do you live here? I never see you playing with the other children, "said the gull, as Moppet's nimble fingers picked away at the knots. 

"Yes: I lives here, and helps de cook. You didn't see me, kase I neverplays; de chilen don't like me. "

"Why not?" asked Gulliver, wondering. 

"I'se black, " said Moppet, with a sob. 

"But that's silly in them, " cried the bird, who had never heard of sucha thing. "Color makes no difference; the peeps are gray, the sealsblack, and the crabs yellow; but we don't care, and are all friends. Itis very unkind to treat you so. Haven't you any friends to love you, dear?"

"Nobody in de world keres fer me. Dey sold me way from my mammy when Iwas a baby, and I'se knocked roun eber since. De oder chilen has folksto lub an kere fer em, but Moppet's got no friends;" and here the blackeyes grew so dim with tears that the poor child couldn't see that thelast knot was out. 

Gulliver saw it, and, pushing up the door, flew from his prison with aglad cry; and, hopping into Moppet's hand, looked into the little darkface with such grateful confidence that it cleared at once, and thebrightest smile it had worn for months broke over it as the bird nestledits soft head against her cheek, saying gently:

"I'm your friend, dear; I love you, and I never shall forget what youhave done for me to-night. How can I thank you before I go?"

For a minute, Moppet could only hug the bird, and cry; for these werethe first kind words she had heard for a long time, and they wentstraight to her lonely little heart. 

"O my deary! I'se paid by dem words, and I don't want no tanks. Jes lubme, and come sometimes to see me ef you can, it's so hard livin' in disyere place. I don't tink I'll bar it long. I wish I was a bird to flyaway, or a oyster safe in de mud, and free to do as I's a mind. "

"I wish you could go and live with Davy on the island; he is so kind, sohappy, and as free as the wind. Can't you get away, Moppet?" whisperedGulliver, longing to help this poor, friendless little soul. He told herall his story; and they agreed that he should fly at once to the island, and see if Dan was there; if not, he was to come back, and Moppet wouldtry to get some one to help find him. When this was done, Davy and Danwere to take Moppet, if they could, and make her happy on the island. Full of hope and joy, Gulliver said good-by, and spread his wings; but, alas for the poor bird! he was too weak to fly. For three days he hadhardly eaten any thing, had found no salt water to bathe in, and had satmoping in the cage till his strength was all gone. 

"What shall I do? what shall I do?" he cried, fluttering his feeblewings, and running to and fro in despair. 

"Hush, birdie, I'll take kere ob you till you's fit to fly. I knows anice, quiet little cove down yonder, where no one goes; and dare you kinstay till you's better. I'll come and feed you, and you kin paddle, andrest, and try your wings, safe and free, honey. "

As Moppet spoke, she took Gulliver in her arms, and stole away in thedim light, over the hill, down to the lonely spot where nothing went butthe winds and waves, the gulls, and little Moppet, when hard words andblows made heart and body ache. Here she left the bird, and, with aloving "Good-night, " crept home to her bed in the garret, feeling asrich as a queen, and much happier; for she had done a kind thing, andmade a friend. 

Next day, a great storm came: the wind blew a hurricane, the rainpoured, and the sea thundered on the coast. If he had been well, Gulliver wouldn't have minded at all; but, being sick and sad, he spentan anxious day, sitting in a cranny of the rock, thinking of Davy andMoppet. It was so rough, even in the cove, that he could neither swimnor fly, so feeble was he; and could find no food but such trifles as hecould pick up among the rocks. At nightfall the storm raged fiercer thanever, and he gave up seeing Moppet; for he was sure she wouldn't comethrough the pelting rain just to feed him. So he put his head under hiswing, and tried to sleep; but he was so wet and weak, so hungry andanxious, no sleep came. 

"What has happened to Davy alone on the island all this while? He willfall ill with loneliness and trouble; the lamp won't be lighted, theships will be wrecked, and many people will suffer. O Dan, Dan, if wecould only find you, how happy we should be!"

As Gulliver spoke, a voice cried through the darkness:

"Is you dere, honey?" and Moppet came climbing over the rocks, with abasket full of such bits as she could get. "Poor birdie, is youstarvin'? Here, jes go at dis, and joy yourself. Dere's fish and tings Itink you'd like. How is you now, dear?"

"Better, Moppet; but, it's so stormy, I can't get to Davy; and I worryabout him, " began Gulliver, pecking away at his supper: but he stoppedsuddenly, for a faint sound came up from below, as if some one called, "Help, help!"

"Hi! what's dat?" said Moppet, listening. 

"Davy, Davy!" called the voice. 

"It's Dan. Hurrah, we've found him!" and Gulliver dived off the rock soreckless that he went splash into the water. But that didn't matter tohim; and he paddled away, like a little steamer with all the engines infull blast. Down by the sea-side, between two stones, lay Dan, sobruised and hurt he couldn't move, and so faint with hunger and pain hecould hardly speak. As soon as Gulliver called, Moppet scrambled down, and fed the poor man with her scraps, brought him rain-water from acrevice near by, and bound up his wounded head with her little apron. Then Dan told them how his boat had been run down by a ship in the fog;how he was hurt, and cast ashore in the lonely cove; how he had lainthere half dead, for no one heard his shouts, and he couldn't move; howthe storm brought him back to life, when he was almost gone, and thesound of Moppet's voice told him help was near. 

How glad they all were then! Moppet danced for joy; Gulliver screamedand flapped his wings; and Dan smiled, in spite of pain, to think heshould see Davy again. He couldn't understand Gulliver; but Moppet toldhim all the story, and, when he heard it, he was more troubled for theboy than for himself. 

"What will he do? He may get killed or scared, or try to come ashore. Isthe lamp alight?" he cried, trying to move, and falling back with a moanof pain. 

Gulliver flew up to the highest rock, and looked out across the darksea. Yes, there it was, --the steady star shining through the storm, andsaying plainly, "All is well. "

"Thank heaven! if the lamp is burning, Davy is alive. Now, how shall Iget to him?" said Dan. 

"Never you fret, massa: Moppet'll see to dat. You jes lay still till Icomes. Dere's folks in de house as'll tend to you, ef I tells em who andwhere you is. "

Off she ran, and soon came back with help. Dan was taken to the house, and carefully tended; Moppet wasn't scolded for being out so late; and, in the flurry, no one thought of the gull. Next morning, the cage wasfound blown over, and every one fancied the bird had flown away. Dorawas already tired of him; so he was soon forgotten by all but Moppet. 

In the morning it was clear; and Gulliver flew gladly to the tower whereDavy still watched and waited, with a pale face and heavy heart, for thethree days had been very hard to bear, and, but for Nep and Shine, hewould have lost his courage entirely. Gulliver flew straight into hisbosom, and, sitting there, told his adventures; while Davy laughed andcried, and Nep stood by, wagging his tail for joy, while his eyes werefull of sympathy. The three had a very happy hour together, and thencame a boat to carry Davy ashore, while another keeper took charge ofthe light till Dan was well. 

Nobody ever knew the best part of the story but Moppet, Davy, andGulliver. Other people didn't dream that the boy's pet gull had anything to do with the finding of the man, or the good fortune that cameto Moppet. While Dan lay sick, she tended him, like a loving littledaughter; and, when he was well, he took her for his own. He did notmind the black skin: he only saw the loneliness of the child, the tenderheart, the innocent, white soul; and he was as glad to be a friend toher as if she had been as blithe and pretty as Dora. 

It was a happy day when Dan and Davy, Moppet, Gulliver, and Nep sailedaway to the island; for that was still to be their home, with stoutyoung Ben to help. 

The sun was setting; and they floated through waves as rosy as the rosysky. A fresh wind filled the sail, and ruffled Gulliver's white breastas he sat on the mast-head crooning a cheery song to himself. Dan heldthe tiller, and Davy lay at his feet, with Nep bolt upright beside him;but the happiest face of all was Moppet's. Kneeling at the bow, sheleaned forward, with her lips apart, her fuzzy hair blown back, and hereyes fixed on the island which was to be her home. Like a little blackfigure-head of Hope, she leaned and looked, as the boat flew on, bearingher away from the old life into the new. 

As the sun sunk, out shone the lamp with sudden brightness, as if theisland bade them welcome. Dan furled the sail; and, drifting with thetide, they floated in, till the waves broke softly on the shore, andleft them safe at home. 

IX. 

THE WHALE'S STORY. 

Freddy sat thinking on the seat under the trees. It was a wide, whiteseat, about four feet long, sloping from the sides to the middle, something like a swing; and was not only comfortable but curious, for itwas made of a whale's bone. Freddy often sat there, and thought about itfor he was very much interested in it, and nobody could tell him anything of it, except that it had been there a long time. 

"Poor old whale, I wonder how you got here, where you came from, and ifyou were a good and happy creature while you lived, " said Freddy, patting the old bone with his little hand. 

It gave a great creak; and a sudden gust of air stirred the trees, as ifsome monster groaned and sighed. Then Freddy heard a strange voice, veryloud, yet cracked and queer, as if some one tried to talk with a brokenjaw. 

"Freddy ahoy!" called the big voice. "I'll tell you all about it; foryou are the only person who ever pitied me, or cared to know any thingabout me. "

"Why, can you talk?" asked Freddy, very much astonished and a littlefrightened. 

"Of course I can, for this is a part of my jaw-bone. I should talkbetter if my whole mouth was here; but I'm afraid my voice would then beso loud you wouldn't be able to hear it. I don't think any one but youwould understand me, any way. It isn't every one that can, you know; butyou are a thoughtful little chap, with a lively fancy as well as a kindheart, so you shall hear my story. "

"Thank you, I should like it very much, if you would please to speak alittle lower, and not sigh; for your voice almost stuns me, and yourbreath nearly blows me away, " said Freddy. 

"I'll try: but it's hard to suit my tone to such a mite, or to helpgroaning when I think of my sad fate; though I deserve it, perhaps, "said the bone, more gently. 

"Were you a naughty whale?" asked Freddy. 

"I was proud, very proud, and foolish; and so I suffered for it. I daresay you know a good deal about us. I see you reading often, and you seema sensible child. "

"No: I haven't read about you yet, and I only know that you are thebiggest fish there is, " replied Freddy. 

The bone creaked and shook, as if it was laughing, and said in a tonethat showed it hadn't got over its pride yet:

"You're wrong there, my dear; we are not fishes at all, though stupidmortals have called us so for a long time. We can't live without air; wehave warm, red blood; and we don't lay eggs, --so we are _not_ fishes. Wecertainly _are_ the biggest creatures in the sea and out of it. Why, bless you! some of us are nearly a hundred feet long; our tails aloneare fifteen or twenty feet wide; the biggest of us weigh five hundredthousand pounds, and have in them the fat, bone, and muscle of athousand cattle. The lower jaw of one of my family made an arch largeenough for a man on horseback to ride under easily, and my cousins ofthe sperm-family usually yield eighty barrels of oil. "

"Gracious me, what monsters you are!" cried Freddy, taking a longbreath, while his eyes got bigger and bigger as he listened. 

"Ah! you may well say so; we are a very wonderful and interestingfamily. All our branches are famous in one way or another. Fin-backs, sperms, and rights are the largest; then come the norwhals, thedolphins, and porpoises, --which last, I dare say, you've seen. "

"Yes: but tell me about the big ones, please. Which were you?" criedFreddy. 

"I was a Right whale, from Greenland. The Sperms live in warm places;but to us the torrid zone is like a sea of fire, and we don't pass it. Our cousins do; and go to the East Indies by way of the North Pole, which is more than your famous Parrys and Franklins could do. "

"I don't know about that; but I'd like to hear what you eat, and how youlive, and why you came here, " said Freddy, who thought the whale ratherinclined to boast. 

"Well, we haven't got any teeth, --our branch of the family; and we liveon creatures so small, that you could only see them with a microscope. Yes, you may stare; but it's true, my dear. The roofs of our mouths aremade of whalebone, in broad pieces from six to eight feet long, arrangedone against the other; so they make an immense sieve. The tongue, whichmakes about five barrels of oil, lies below, like a cushion of whitesatin. When we want to feed, we rush through the water, which is full ofthe little things we eat, and catch them in our sieve, spurting thewater through two holes in our heads. Then we collect the food with ourtongue, and swallow it; for, though we are so big, our throats aresmall. We roam about in the ocean, leaping and floating, feeding andspouting, flying from our enemies, or fighting bravely to defend ouryoung ones. "

"Have you got any enemies? I shouldn't think you could have, you are solarge, " said Freddy. 

"But we have, and many too, --three who attack us in the water, andseveral more that men use against us. The killer, the sword-fish, andthe thrasher trouble us at home. The killer fastens to us, and won't beshaken off till he has worried us to death; the sword-fish stabs us withhis sword; and the thrasher whips us to death with his own slender, butstrong and heavy body. Then, men harpoon us, shoot or entrap us; andmake us into oil and candles and seats, and stiffening for gowns andumbrellas, " said the bone, in a tone of scorn. 

Freddy laughed at the idea, and asked, "How about candles? I know aboutoil and seats and umbrellas; but I thought candles were made of wax. "

"I can't say much on that point: I only know that, when a sperm whale iskilled, they make oil out of the fat part as they do of ours; but theSperms have a sort of cistern in their heads, full of stuff like cream, and rose-colored. They cut a hole in the skull, and dip it out; andsometimes get sixteen or twenty barrels. This is made into what you callspermaceti candles. _We_ don't have any such nonsense about us; but theSperms always were a light-headed set. "

Here the bone laughed, in a cracked sort of roar, which sent Freddyflying off the seat on to the grass, where he stayed, laughing also, though he didn't see any joke. 

"I beg your pardon, child. It isn't often that I laugh; for I've aheavy heart somewhere, and have known trouble enough to make me as sadas the sea is sometimes. "

"Tell me about your troubles; I pity you very much, and like to hear youtalk, " said Freddy, kindly. 

"Unfortunately we are very easily killed, in spite of our size; and havevarious afflictions besides death. We grow blind; our jaws are deformedsometimes; our tails, with which we swim, get hurt; and we havedyspepsia. "

Freddy shouted at that; for he knew what dyspepsia was, because at thesea-side there were many sickly people who were always groaning aboutthat disease. 

"It's no laughing matter, I assure you, " said the whale's bone. "Wesuffer a great deal, and get thin and weak and miserable. I've sometimesthought that's the reason we are blue. "

"Perhaps, as you have no teeth, you don't chew your food enough, and sohave dyspepsia, like an old gentleman I know, " said Freddy. 

"That's not the reason; my cousins, the Sperms, have teeth, anddyspepsia also. "

"Are they blue?"

"No, black and white. But I was going to tell you my troubles. My fatherwas harpooned when I was very young, and I remember how bravely hedied. The Rights usually run away when they see a whaler coming; notfrom cowardice, --oh, dear, no!--but discretion. The Sperms stay andfight, and are killed off very fast; for they are a very headstrongfamily. We fight when we can't help it; and my father died like a hero. They chased him five hours before they stuck him; he tried to get away, and dragged three or four boats and sixteen hundred fathoms of line fromeight in the morning till four at night. Then they got out another line, and he towed the ship itself for more than an hour. There were fifteenharpoons in him: he chewed up a boat, pitched several men overboard, anddamaged the vessel, before they killed him. Ah! he was a father to beproud of. "

Freddy sat respectfully silent for a few minutes, as the old bone seemedto feel a great deal on the subject. Presently he went on again:

"The Sperms live in herds; but the Rights go in pairs, and are very fondof one another. My wife was a charming creature, and we were very happy, till one sad day, when she was playing with our child, --a sweet littlewhaleling only twelve feet long, and weighing but a ton, --my son washarpooned. His mamma, instead of flying, wrapped her fins round him, anddived as far as the line allowed. Then she came up, and dashed at theboats in great rage and anguish, entirely regardless of the danger shewas in. The men struck my son, in order to get her, and they soonsucceeded; but even then, in spite of her suffering, she did not try toescape, but clung to little Spouter till both were killed. Alas! alas!"

Here the poor bone creaked so dismally, Freddy feared it would tumble topieces, and bring the story to an end too soon. 

"Don't think of those sorrowful things, " he said; "tell me how you cameto be here. Were you harpooned?"

"Not I; for I've been very careful all my life to keep out of the way ofdanger: I'm not like one of my relations, who attacked a ship, gave itsuch a dreadful blow that he made a great hole, the water rushed in, andthe vessel was wrecked. But he paid dearly for that prank; for a fewmonths afterward another ship harpooned him very easily, finding twospears still in him, and a wound in his head. I forgot to mention, thatthe Sperms have fine ivory teeth, and make ambergris, --a sort of stuffthat smells very nice, and costs a great deal. I give you these littlefacts about my family, as you seem interested, and it's always well toimprove the minds of young people. "

"You are very kind; but will you be good enough to tell about yourself?"said Freddy again; for the bone seemed to avoid that part of the story, as if he didn't want to tell it. 

"Well, if I must, I must; but I'm sorry to confess what a fool I'vebeen. You know what coral is, don't you?"

"No, " said Freddy, wondering why it asked. 

"Then I must tell you, I suppose. There is a bit in the housethere, --that rough, white, stony stuff on the table in the parlor. It'sfull of little holes, you know. Well, those holes are the front doors ofhundreds of little polypes, or coral worms, who build the great branchesof coral, and live there. They are of various shapes and colors, --somelike stars; some fine as a thread, and blue or yellow; others likesnails and tiny lobsters. Some people say the real coral-makers areshaped like little oblong bags of jelly, closed at one end, the otheropen, with six or eight little feelers, like a star, all around it. Theother creatures are boarders or visitors: these are the real workers, and, when they sit in their cells and put out their feelers, they makeall manner of lovely colors under the water, --crimson, green, orange, and violet. But if they are taken up or touched, the coral people go indoors, and the beautiful hues disappear. They say there are many coralreefs and islands built by these industrious people, in the South Seas;but I can't go there to see, and I am contented with those I find in thenorthern latitudes. I knew such a community of coral builders, and usedto watch them long ago, when they began to work. It was a charmingspot, down under the sea; for all manner of lovely plants grew there;splendid fishes sailed to and fro; wonderful shells lay about; crimsonand yellow prawns, long, gliding green worms, and purple sea-urchins, were there. When I asked the polypes what they were doing, and theyanswered, 'Building an island, ' I laughed at them; for the idea thatthese tiny, soft atoms could make any thing was ridiculous. 'You mayroar; but you'll see that we are right, if you live long enough, ' saidthey. 'Our family have built thousands of islands and long reefs, thatthe sea can't get over, strong as it is. ' That amused me immensely; butI wouldn't believe it, and laughed more than ever. "

"It does seem very strange, " said Freddy, looking at the branch of coralwhich he had brought out to examine. 

"Doesn't it? and isn't it hard to believe? I used to go, now and then, to see how the little fellows got on, and always found them hard at it. For a long while there was only a little plant without leaves, growingslowly taller and taller; for they always build upward toward the light. By and by, the small shrub was a tree: flying-fish roosted in itsbranches; sea-cows lay under its shadow; and thousands of jolly littlepolypes lived and worked in its white chambers. I was glad to see themgetting on so well; but still I didn't believe in the island story, andused to joke them about their ambition. They were very good-natured, andonly answered me, 'Wait a little longer, Friend Right. ' I had my ownaffairs to attend to; so, for years at a time, I forgot thecoral-workers, and spent most of my life up Greenland way, for warmclimates don't agree with my constitution. When I came back, after along absence, I was astonished to see the tree grown into a largeumbrella-shaped thing, rising above the water. Sea-weed had washed upand clung there; sea-birds had made nests there; land-birds and thewinds had carried seeds there, which had sprung up; trunks of trees hadbeen cast there by the sea; lizards, insects, and little animals camewith the trees, and were the first inhabitants; and, behold! it _was_ anisland. "

"What did you say then?" asked Freddy. 

"I was angry, and didn't want to own that I was wrong; so I insistedthat it wasn't a real island, without people on it. 'Wait a littlelonger, ' answered the polypes; and went on, building broader and broaderfoundations. I flounced away in a rage, and didn't go back for a greatwhile. I hoped something would happen to the coral builders and theirisland; but I was so curious that I couldn't keep away, and, on goingback there, I found a settlement of fishermen, and the beginning of athriving town. Now I should have been in a towering passion at this, ifin my travels I hadn't discovered a race of little creatures as muchsmaller than polypes as a mouse is smaller than an elephant. I heard twolearned men talking about diatoms, as they sailed to Labrador; and Ilistened. They said these people lived in both salt and fresh water, andwere found in all parts of the world. They were a glassy shell, holdinga soft, golden-yellow substance, and that they were so countless thatbanks were made of them, and that a town here in these United States wasfounded on them. They were the food of many little sea-animals, who, inturn, fed us big creatures, and were very interesting and wonderful. Isaved up this story; and, when the polypes asked if they hadn't donewhat they intended, I told them I didn't think it so very remarkable, for the tiny diatoms made cities, and were far more astonishing animalsthan they. I thought that would silence them; but they just turnedround, and informed me that my diatoms were plants, not animals, --so mystory was all humbug. Then I _was_ mad; and couldn't get over the factthat these little rascals had done what we, the kings of the sea, couldn't do. I wasn't content with being the biggest creature there: Iwanted to be the most skilful also. I didn't remember that every thinghas its own place and use, and should be happy in doing the work forwhich it was made. I fretted over the matter a long while, and at lastdecided to make an island myself. "

"How could you?" asked Freddy. 

"I had my plans; and thought them very wise ones. I was so bent onoutdoing the polypes that I didn't much care what happened; and so Iwent to work in my clumsy way. I couldn't pile up stones, or buildmillions of cells; so I just made an island of myself. I swam up intothe harbor yonder one night; covered my back with sea-weed; and laystill on the top of the water. In the morning the gulls came to see whatit was, and pecked away at the weeds, telling me very soon that theyknew what I was after, and that I couldn't gull them. All the people onshore turned out to see the wonder also; for a fisherman had carried thetidings, and every one was wild to behold the new island. After staringand chattering a long while, boats came off to examine the mystery. Loads of scientific gentlemen worked away at me with microscopes, hammers, acids, and all sorts of tests, to decide what I was; and keptup such a fire of long words that I was 'most dead. They couldn't makeup their minds; and meanwhile news of the strange thing spread, andevery sort of person came to see me. The gulls kept telling them thejoke; but they didn't understand, and I got on capitally. Every night Idined and fed and frolicked till dawn; then put on my sea-weeds, andlay still to be stared at. I wanted some one to come and live on me;then I should be equal to the island of the polypes. But no one came, and I was beginning to be tired of fooling people, when I was fooledmyself. An old sailor came to visit me: he had been a whaler, and hesoon guessed the secret. But he said nothing till he was safely out ofdanger; then he got all ready, and one day, as I lay placidly in thesun, a horrible harpoon came flying through the air, and sunk deep intomy back. I forgot every thing but the pain, and dived for my life. Alas!the tide was low; the harbor-bar couldn't be passed; and I foundhundreds of boats chasing me, till I was driven ashore down there on theflats. Big and strong as we are, once out of water, and we are perfectlyhelpless. I was soon despatched; and my bones left to whiten on thesand. This was long ago; and, one by one, all my relics have beencarried off or washed away. My jaw-bone has been used as a seat here, till it's worn out; but I couldn't crumble away till I'd told some onemy story. Remember, child, pride goeth before a fall. "

Then, with a great creak, the bone tumbled to pieces; and found apeaceful grave in the long green grass. 

X. 

A STRANGE ISLAND. 

One day I lay rocking in my boat, reading a very famous book, which allchildren know and love; and the name of which I'll tell you by and by. So busily was I reading, that I never minded the tide; and presentlydiscovered that I was floating out to sea, with neither sail nor oar. Atfirst I was very much frightened; for there was no one in sight on landor sea, and I didn't know where I might drift to. But the water wascalm, the sky clear, and the wind blew balmily; so I waited for whatshould happen. 

Presently I saw a speck on the sea, and eagerly watched it; for it drewrapidly near, and seemed to be going my way. When it came closer, I wasmuch amazed; for, of all the queer boats I ever saw, this was thequeerest. It was a great wooden bowl, very cracked and old; and in itsat three gray-headed little gentlemen with spectacles, all readingbusily, and letting the boat go where it pleased. Now, right in theirway was a rock; and I called out, "Sir, sir, take care. "

But my call came too late: crash went the bowl, out came the bottom, anddown plumped all the little gentlemen into the sea. I tried not tolaugh, as the books, wigs, and spectacles flew about; and, urging myboat nearer, I managed to fish them up, dripping and sneezing, andlooking like drowned kittens. When the flurry was over, and they had gottheir breath, I asked who they were, and where they were going. 

"We are from Gotham, ma'am, " said the fattest one, wiping a very wetface on a very wet handkerchief. "We were going to that island yonder. We have often tried, but never got there: it's always so, and I begin tothink the thing can't be done. "

I looked where he pointed; and, sure enough, there was an island where Ihad never seen one before. I rubbed my eyes, and looked again. Yes:there it was, --a little island, with trees and people on it; for I sawsmoke coming out of the chimney of a queerly-shaped house on the shore. 

"What is the name of it?" I asked. 

The little old gentleman put his finger on his lips, and said, with amysterious nod:

"I couldn't tell you, ma'am. It's a secret; but, if you manage to landthere, you will soon know. "

The other old men nodded at the same time; and then all went to readingagain, with the water still dropping off the ends of their noses. Thismade me very curious; and, as the tide drifted us nearer and nearer, Ilooked well about me, and saw several things that filled me with astrong desire to land on the island. The odd house, I found, was builtlike a high-heeled shoe; and at every window I saw children's heads. Some were eating broth; some were crying; and some had nightcaps on. Icaught sight of a distracted old lady flying about, with a ladle in onehand, and a rod in the other; but the house was so full of children(even up to the skylight, --out of which they popped their heads, andnodded at me) that I couldn't see much of the mamma of this largefamily: one seldom can, you know. 

I had hardly got over my surprise at this queer sight, when I saw a cowfly up through the air, over the new moon that hung there, and come downand disappear in the woods. I really didn't know what to make of this, but had no time to ask the old men what it meant; for a cat, playing afiddle, was seen on the shore. A little dog stood by, listening andlaughing; while a dish and a spoon ran away over the beach with alltheir might. If the boat had not floated up to the land, I think Ishould have swam there, --I was so anxious to see what was going on; forthere was a great racket on the island, and such a remarkable collectionof creatures, it was impossible to help staring. 

As soon as we landed, three other gentlemen came to welcome the ones Ihad saved, and seemed very glad to see them. They appeared to have justlanded from a tub in which was a drum, rub-a-dub-dubbing all by itself. One of the new men had a white frock on, and carried a large knife; thesecond had dough on his hands, flour on his coat, and a hot-lookingface; the third was very greasy, had a bundle of candles under his arm, and a ball of wicking half out of his pocket. The six shook hands, andwalked away together, talking about a fair; and left me to take care ofmyself. 

I walked on through a pleasant meadow, where a pretty little girl waslooking sadly up at a row of sheep's tails hung on a tree. I also saw alittle boy in blue, asleep by a haycock; and another boy taking aim at acock-sparrow, who clapped his wings and flew away. Presently I saw twomore little girls: one sat by a fire warming her toes; and, when I askedwhat her name was, she said pleasantly:

"Polly Flinders, ma'am. "

The other one sat on a tuft of grass, eating something that looked verynice; but, all of a sudden, she dropped her bowl, and ran away, lookingvery much frightened. 

"What's the matter with her?" I asked of a gay young frog who cametripping along with his hat under his arm. 

"Miss Muffit is a fashionable lady, and afraid of spiders, madam; alsoof frogs. " And he puffed himself angrily up, till his eyes quitegoggled in his head. 

"And, pray, who are you, sir?" I asked, staring at his white vest, greencoat, and fine cravat. 

"Excuse me, if I don't give my name, ma'am. My false friend, the rat, got me into a sad scrape once; and Rowley insists upon it that a duckdestroyed me, which is all gammon, ma'am, --all gammon. "

With that, the frog skipped away; and I turned into a narrow lane, whichseemed to lead toward some music. I had not gone far, when I heard therumbling of a wheelbarrow, and saw a little man wheeling a little womanalong. The little man looked very hot and tired; but the little womanlooked very nice, in a smart bonnet and shawl, and kept looking at a newgold ring on her finger, as she rode along under her little umbrella. Iwas wondering who they were, when down went the wheelbarrow; and thelittle lady screamed so dismally that I ran away, lest I should get intotrouble, --being a stranger. 

Turning a corner, I came upon a very charming scene, and slipped into aquiet nook to see what was going on. It was evidently a wedding; and Iwas just in time to see it, for the procession was passing at thatmoment. First came a splendid cock-a-doodle, all in black and gold, likea herald, blowing his trumpet, and marching with a very dignified step. Then came a rook, in black, like a minister, with spectacles and whitecravat. A lark and bullfinch followed, --friends, I suppose; and then thebride and bridegroom. Miss Wren was evidently a Quakeress; for she worea sober dress, and a little white veil, through which her bright eyesshone. The bridegroom was a military man, in his scarlet uniform, --aplump, bold-looking bird, very happy and proud just then. A goldfinchgave away the bride, and a linnet was bridesmaid. The ceremony was veryfine; and, as soon as it was over, the blackbird, thrush and nightingaleburst out in a lovely song. 

A splendid dinner followed, at which was nearly every bird that flies;so you may imagine the music there was. They had currant-pie inabundance; and cherry-wine, which excited a cuckoo so much, that hebecame quite rude, and so far forgot himself as to pull the bride about. This made the groom so angry that he begged his friend, the sparrow, tobring his bow and arrow, and punish the ruffian. But, alas! Sparrow hadalso taken a drop too much: he aimed wrong, and, with a dreadful cry, Mr. Robin sank dying into the arms of his wife, little Jane. 

It was too much for me; and, taking advantage of the confusion thatfollowed, I left the tragical scene as fast as possible. 

A little farther on, I was shocked to see a goose dragging an old mandown some steps that led to a little house. 

"Dear me! what's the matter here?" I cried. 

"He won't say his prayers, " screamed the goose. 

"But perhaps he was never taught, " said I. 

"It's never too late to learn: he's had his chance; he won't be piousand good, so away with him. Don't interfere, whatever you do: hold yourtongue, and go about your business, " scolded the goose, who certainlyhad a dreadful temper. 

I dared say no more; and, when the poor old man had been driven away bythis foul proceeding, I went up the steps and peeped in; for I heardsome one crying, and thought the cross bird, perhaps, had hurt some oneelse. A little old woman stood there, wringing her hands in greatdistress; while a small dog was barking at her with all his might. 

"Bless me! the fashions have got even here, " thought I; for the oldwoman was dressed in the latest style, --or, rather, she had overdone itsadly; for her gown was nearly up to her knees, and she was nearly asridiculous an object as some of the young ladies I had seen at home. Shehad a respectable bonnet on, however, instead of a straw saucer; and herhair was neatly put under a cap, --not made into a knob on the top of herhead. 

"My dear soul, what's the trouble?" said I, quite touched by her tears. 

"Lud a mercy, ma'am! I've been to market with my butter and eggs, --forthe price of both is so high, one can soon get rich nowadays, --and, being tired, I stopped to rest a bit, but fell asleep by the road. Somebody--I think it's a rogue of a peddler who sold me wooden nutmegs, and a clock that wouldn't go, and some pans that came to bits the firsttime I used them--somebody cut my new gown and petticoat off all round, in the shameful way you see. I thought I never should get home; for Iwas such a fright, I actually didn't know myself. But, thinks I, mydoggy will know me; and then I shall be sure I'm I, and not someboldfaced creature in short skirts. But, oh, ma'am! doggy _don't_ knowme; and I ain't myself, and I don't know what to do. "

"He's a foolish little beast; so don't mind him, but have a cup of tea, and go to bed. You can make your gown decent to-morrow; and, if I seethe tricksy peddler, I'll give him a scolding. "

This seemed to comfort the old woman; though doggy still barked. 

"My next neighbor has a dog who never behaves in this way, " she said, asshe put her teapot on the coals. "He's a remarkable beast; and you'dbetter stop to see him as you pass, ma'am. He's always up to some funnyprank or other. "

I said I would; and, as I went by the next house, I took a look in atthe window. The closet was empty, I observed; but the dog sat smoking apipe, looking as grave as a judge. 

"Where is your mistress?" asked I. 

"Gone for some tripe, " answered the dog, politely taking the pipe out ofhis mouth, and adding, "I hope the smoke doesn't annoy you. "

"I don't approve of smoking, " said I. 

"Sorry to hear it, " said the dog, coolly. 

I was going to lecture him on this bad habit; but I saw his mistresscoming with a dish in her hand, and, fearing she might think me rude topeep in at her windows, I walked on, wondering what we were coming towhen even four-legged puppies smoked. 

At the door of the next little house, I saw a market-wagon loaded withvegetables, and a smart young pig just driving it away. I had heard ofthis interesting family, and took a look as I passed by. A second tidypig sat blowing the fire; and a third was eating roast-beef, as if hehad just come in from his work. The fourth, I was grieved to see, lookedvery sulky; for it was evident he had been naughty, and so lost hisdinner. The little pig was at the door, crying to get in; and it wassweet to see how kindly the others let him in, wiped his tears, tied onhis bib, and brought him his bread and milk. I was very glad to seethese young orphans doing so well, and I knew my friends at home wouldenjoy hearing from them. 

A loud scream made me jump; and the sudden splash of water made me runalong, without stopping to pick up a boy and girl who came tumbling downthe hill, with an empty pail, bumping their heads as they rolled. Smelling something nice, and feeling hungry, I stepped into a large roomnear by, --a sort of eating-house, I fancy; for various parties seemed tobe enjoying themselves in their different ways. A small boy sat near thedoor, eating a large pie; and he gave me a fine plum which he had justpulled out. At one table was a fat gentleman cutting another pie, whichhad a dark crust, through which appeared the heads of a flock of birds, all singing gayly. 

"There's no end to the improvements in cooking, and no accounting fortastes, " I added, looking at a handsomely-dressed lady, who sat near, eating bread and honey. 

As I passed this party, I saw behind the lady's chair a maid, with aclothes-pin in her hand, and no nose. She sobbingly told me a bird hadnipped it off; and I gave her a bit of court-plaster, which Ifortunately had in my pocket. 

Another couple were dividing their meat in a queer way; for one took allthe fat, and the other all the lean. The next people were odder still;for the man looked rather guilty, and seemed to be hiding a three-peckmeasure under his chair, while he waited for his wife to bring on somecold barley-pudding, which, to my surprise, she was frying herself. Ialso saw a queer moonstruck-looking man inquiring the way to Norridge;and another man making wry faces over some plum-pudding, with which hehad burnt his mouth, because his friend came down too soon. 

I ordered pease-porridge hot, and they brought it cold; but I didn'twait for any thing else, being in a hurry to see all there was to beseen on this strange island. Feeling refreshed, I strolled on, passing ajolly old gentleman smoking and drinking, while three fiddlers playedbefore him. As I turned into a road that led toward a hill, a littleboy, riding a dapple-gray pony, and an old lady on a white horse, withbells ringing somewhere, trotted by me, followed by a little girl, whowished to know where she could buy a penny bun. I told her the best wereat Newmarch's, in Bedford Street, and she ran on, much pleased; but I'mafraid she never found that best of bake-shops. I was going quietlyalong, when the sound of another horse coming made me look round; andthere I saw a dreadful sight, --a wild horse, tearing over the ground, with fiery eyes and streaming tail. On his back sat a crazy man, beatinghim with a broom; a crazy woman was behind him, with her bonnet on wrongside before, holding one crazy child in her lap, while another stood onthe horse; a third was hanging on by one foot, and all were howling atthe top of their voices as they rushed by. I scrambled over the wall toget out of the way, and there I saw more curious sights. Two blind menwere sitting on the grass, trying to see two lame men who were hobblingalong as hard as they could; and, near by, a bull was fighting a bee inthe most violent manner. This rather alarmed me; and I scrambled backinto the road again, just as a very fine lady jumped over abarberry-bush near by, and a gentleman went flying after, with a ring inone hand and a stick in the other. 

"What very odd people they have here!" I thought. Close by was a tidylittle house under the hill, and in it a tidy little woman who soldthings to eat. Being rather hungry, in spite of my porridge, I bought abaked apple and a cranberry-pie; for she said they were good, and Ifound she told the truth. As I sat eating my pie, some dogs began tobark; and by came a troop of beggars, some in rags, and some in oldvelvet gowns. A drunken grenadier was with them, who wanted a pot ofbeer; but as he had no money, the old woman sent him about his business. 

On my way up the hill, I saw a little boy crying over a dead pig, andhis sister, who seemed to be dead also. I asked his name, and he sobbedout, "Johnny Pringle, ma'am;" and went on crying so hard I could donothing to comfort him. While I stood talking to him, a sudden gust ofwind blew up the road, and down came the bough of a tree; and, to mysurprise, a cradle with a baby in it also. The baby screamed dreadfully, and I didn't know how to quiet it; so I ran back to the old woman, andleft it with her, asking if that was the way babies were taken care ofthere. 

"Bless you, my dear! its ma is making patty-cakes; and put it up thereto be out of the way of Tom Tinker's dog. I'll soon hush it up, " saidthe old woman; and, trotting it on her knee, she began to sing:

 "Hey! my kitten, my kitten, Hey! my kitten, my deary. "

Feeling that the child was in good hands, I hurried away, for I sawsomething was going on upon the hill-top. When I got to the hill-top, Iwas shocked to find some people tossing an old woman in a blanket. Ibegged them to stop; but one of the men, who, I found, was a Welchman, by the name of Taffy, told me the old lady liked it. 

"But why does she like it?" I asked in great surprise. 

"Tom, the piper's son, will tell you: it's my turn to toss now, " saidthe man. 

"Why, you see, ma'am, " said Tom, "she is one of those dreadfully niceold women, who are always fussing and scrubbing, and worrying people todeath, with everlastingly cleaning house. Now and then we get so tiredout with her that we propose to her to clean the sky itself. She likesthat; and, as this is the only way we can get her up, we toss till shesticks somewhere, and then leave her to sweep cobwebs till she is readyto come back and behave herself. "

"Well, that is the oddest thing I ever heard. I know just such an oldlady, and when I go home I'll try your plan. It seems to me that youhave a great many queer old ladies on this island, " I said to anotherman, whom they called Peter, and who stood eating pumpkin all the time. 

"Well, we do have rather a nice collection; but you haven't seen thebest of all. We expect her every minute; and Margery Daw is to let usknow the minute she lights on the island, " replied Peter, with his mouthfull. 

"Lights?" said I, "you speak as if she flew. "

"She rides on a bird. Hurrah! the old sweeper has lit. Now the cobwebswill fly. Don't hurry back, " shouted the man; and a faint, far-off voiceanswered, "I shall be back again by and by. "

The people folded up the blanket, looking much relieved; and I wasexamining a very odd house which was built by an ancient king calledBoggen, when Margery Daw, a dirty little girl, came up the hill, screaming, at the top of her voice:

"She's come! she's come!"

Every one looked up; and I saw a large white bird slowly flying over theisland. On its back sat the nicest old woman that ever was seen: all theothers were nothing compared to her. She had a pointed hat on over hercap, a red cloak, high-heeled shoes, and a crutch in her hand. Shesmiled and nodded as the bird approached; and every one ran and nodded, and screamed, "Welcome! welcome, mother!"

As soon as she touched the ground, she was so surrounded that I couldonly see the top of her hat; for hundreds and hundreds of littlechildren suddenly appeared, like a great flock of birds, --rosy, happy, pretty children; but all looked unreal, and among them I saw some wholooked like little people I had known long ago. 

"Who are they?" I asked of a bonny lass, who was sitting on a cushion, eating strawberries and cream. 

"They are the phantoms of all the little people who ever read and lovedour mother's songs, " said the maid. 

"What did she write?" I asked, feeling very queer, and as if I was goingto remember something. 

"Songs that are immortal; and you have them in your hand, " replied thebonny maid, smiling at my stupidity. 

I looked; and there, on the cover of the book I had been reading sobusily when the tide carried me away, I saw the words "Mother Goose'sMelodies. " I was so delighted that I had seen her I gave a shout, andtried to get near enough to hug and kiss the dear old soul, as the swarmof children were doing; but my cry woke me, and I was _so_ sorry to findit all a dream!

XI. 

FANCY'S FRIEND. 

It was a wagon, shaped like a great square basket, on low wheels, anddrawn by a stout donkey. There was one seat, on which Miss Fairbairn thegoverness sat; and all round her, leaning over the edge of the basket, were children, with little wooden shovels and baskets in their hands, going down to play on the beach. Away they went, over the common, through the stony lane, out upon the wide, smooth sands. All thechildren but one immediately fell to digging holes, and making ponds, castles, or forts. They did this every day, and were never tired of it;but little Fancy made new games for herself, and seldom dug in the sand. She had a garden of sea-weed, which the waves watered every day: she hada palace of pretty shells, where she kept all sorts of littlewater-creatures as fairy tenants; she had friends and playmates amongthe gulls and peeps, and learned curious things by watching crabs, horse-shoes, and jelly-fishes; and every day she looked for a mermaid. 

It was of no use to tell her that there were no mermaids: Fancy firmlybelieved in them, and was sure she would see one some day. The otherchildren called the seals mermaids; and were contented with the queer, shiny creatures who played in the water, lay on the rocks, and peeped atthem with soft, bright eyes as they sailed by. Fancy was not satisfiedwith seals, --they were not pretty and graceful enough for her, --and shewaited and watched for a real mermaid. On this day she took a breezy runwith the beach-birds along the shore; she planted a pretty red weed inher garden; and let out the water-beetles and snails who had passed thenight in her palace. Then she went to a rock that stood near the quietnook where she played alone, and sat there looking for a mermaid as thetide came in; for it brought her many curious things, and it mightperhaps bring a mermaid. 

As she looked across the waves that came tumbling one over the other, she saw something that was neither boat nor buoy nor seal. It was aqueer-looking thing, with a wild head, a long waving tail, and somethinglike arms that seemed to paddle it along. The waves tumbled it about, soFancy could not see very well: but, the longer she looked, the surer shewas that this curious thing was a mermaid; and she waited eagerly for itto reach the shore. Nearer and nearer it came, till a great wave threwit upon the sand; and Fancy saw that it was only a long piece of kelp, torn up by the roots. She was very much disappointed; but, all of asudden, her face cleared up, she clapped her hands, and began to danceround the kelp, saying:

"I'll make a mermaid myself, since none will come to me. "

Away she ran, higher up the beach, and, after thinking a minute, beganher work. Choosing a smooth, hard place, she drew with a stick theoutline of her mermaid; then she made the hair of the brown marsh-grassgrowing near by, arranging it in long locks on either side the face, which was made of her prettiest pink and white shells, --for she pulleddown her palace to get them. The eyes were two gray pebbles; the neckand arms of larger, white shells; and the dress of sea-weed, --red, green, purple, and yellow; very splendid, for Fancy emptied her gardento dress her mermaid. 

"People say that mermaids always have tails; and I might make one out ofthis great leaf of kelp. But it isn't pretty, and I don't like it; for Iwant mine to be beautiful: so I won't have any tail, " said Fancy, andput two slender white shells for feet, at the lower edge of the fringedskirt. She laid a wreath of little star-fish across the brown hair, abelt of small orange-crabs round the waist, buttoned the dress withviolet snail-shells, and hung a tiny white pebble, like a pearl, ineither ear. 

"Now she must have a glass and a comb in her hand, as the song says, and then she will be done, " said Fancy, looking about her, well pleased. 

Presently she found the skeleton of a little fish, and his backbone madean excellent comb; while a transparent jelly-fish served for a glass, with a frame of cockle-shells round it. Placing these in the hands ofher mermaid, and some red coral bracelets on her wrists, Fancypronounced her done; and danced about her, singing:

 "My pretty little mermaid, Oh! come, and play with me: I'll love you, I'll welcome you; And happy we shall be. "

Now, while she had been working, the tide had crept higher and higher;and, as she sung, one wave ran up and wet her feet. 

"Oh, what a pity I didn't put her farther up!" cried Fancy; "the tidewill wash her all away; and I meant to keep her fresh, and show her toAunt Fiction. My poor mermaid!--I shall lose her; but perhaps she willbe happier in the sea: so I will let her go. "

Mounting her rock, Fancy waited to see her work destroyed. But the seaseemed to pity her; and wave after wave came up, without doing any harm. At last one broke quite over the mermaid, and Fancy thought that wouldbe the end of her. But, no: instead of scattering shells, stones, andweeds, the waves lifted the whole figure, without displacing any thing, and gently bore it back into the sea. 

"Good by! good by!" cried Fancy, as the little figure floated away;then, as it disappeared, she put her hands before her face, --for sheloved her mermaid, and had given all her treasures to adorn her; and nowto lose her so soon seemed hard, --and Fancy's eyes were full of tears. Another great wave came rolling in; but she did not look up to see itbreak, and, a minute after, she heard steps tripping toward her over thesand. Still she did not stir; for, just then, none of her playmatescould take the place of her new friend, and she didn't want to see them. 

"Fancy! Fancy!" called a breezy voice, sweeter than any she had everheard. But she did not raise her head, nor care to know who called. Thesteps came quite close; and the touch of a cold, wet hand fell on herown. Then she looked up, and saw a strange little girl standing by her, who smiled, showing teeth like little pearls, and said, in the breezyvoice:

"You wanted me to play with you, so I came. "

"Who are you?" asked Fancy, wondering where she had seen the childbefore. 

"I'm your mermaid, " said the child. 

"But the water carried her away, " cried Fancy. 

"The waves only carried me out for the sea to give me life, and thenbrought me back to you, " answered the new comer. 

"But are you really a mermaid?" asked Fancy, beginning to smile andbelieve. 

"I am really the one you made: look, and see if I'm not;" and the littlecreature turned slowly round, that Fancy might be sure it was her ownwork. 

She certainly was very like the figure that once lay on the sand, --onlyshe was not now made of stones and shells. There was the long brown hairblowing about her face, with a wreath of starry shells in it. Her eyeswere gray, her cheeks and lips rosy, her neck and arms white; and fromunder her striped dress peeped little bare feet. She had pearls in herears, coral bracelets, a golden belt, and a glass and comb in her hands. 

"Yes, " said Fancy, drawing near, "you _are_ my little mermaid; but howdoes it happen that you come to me at last?"

"Dear friend, " answered the water-child, "you believed in me, watchedand waited long for me, shaped the image of the thing you wanted out ofyour dearest treasures, and promised to love and welcome me. I could nothelp coming; and the sea, that is as fond of you as you are of it, helped me to grant your wish. "

"Oh, I'm glad, I'm glad! Dear little mermaid, what is your name?" criedFancy, kissing the cool cheek of her new friend, and putting her armsabout her neck. 

"Call me by my German cousin's pretty name, --Lorelei, " answered themermaid, kissing back as warmly as she could. 

"Will you come home and live with me, dear Lorelei?" asked Fancy, stillholding her fast. 

"If you will promise to tell no one who and what I am, I will stay withyou as long as you love and believe in me. As soon as you betray me, orlose your faith and fondness, I shall vanish, never to come back again, "answered Lorelei. 

"I promise: but won't people wonder who you are? and, if they ask me, what shall I say?" said Fancy. 

"Tell them you found me on the shore; and leave the rest to me. But youmust not expect other people to like and believe in me as you do. Theywill say hard things of me; will blame you for loving me; and try topart us. Can you bear this, and keep your promise faithfully?"

"I think I can. But why won't they like you?" said Fancy, lookingtroubled. 

"Because they are not like you, dear, " answered the mermaid, with salttears in her soft eyes. "They have not your power of seeing beauty inall things, of enjoying invisible delights, and living in a world ofyour own. Your Aunt Fiction will like me; but your Uncle Fact won't. Hewill want to know all about me; will think I'm a little vagabond; andwant me to be sent away somewhere, to be made like other children. Ishall keep out of his way as much as I can; for I'm afraid of him. "

"I'll take care of you, Lorelei dear; and no one shall trouble you. Ihear Miss Fairbairn calling; so I must go. Give me your hand, and don'tbe afraid. "

Hand in hand the two went toward the other children, who stoppeddigging, and stared at the new child. Miss Fairbairn, who was very wiseand good, but rather prim, stared too, and said, with surprise:

"Why, my dear, where did you find that queer child?"

"Down on the beach. Isn't she pretty?" answered Fancy, feeling veryproud of her new friend. 

"She hasn't got any shoes on; so she's a beggar, and we mustn't playwith her, " said one boy, who had been taught that to be poor was a verydreadful thing. 

"What pretty earrings and bracelets she's got!" said a little girl, whothought a great deal of her dress. 

"She doesn't look as if she knew much, " said another child, who was keptstudying so hard that she never had time to dig and run, and makedirt-pies, till she fell ill, and had to be sent to the sea-side. 

"What's your name? and who are your parents?" asked Miss Fairbairn. 

"I've got no parents; and my name is Lorelei, " answered the mermaiden. 

"You mean Luly; mind your pronunciation, child, " said Miss Fairbairn, who corrected every one she met in something or other. "Where do youlive?"

"I haven't got any home now, " said Lorelei, smiling at the lady's tone. 

"Yes, you have: my home is yours; and you are going to stay with mealways, " cried Fancy, heartily. "She is my little sister, MissFairbairn: I found her; and I'm going to keep her, and make her happy. "

"Your uncle won't like it, my dear. " And Miss Fairbairn shook her headgravely. 

"Aunt will; and Uncle won't mind, if I learn my lessons well, andremember the multiplication table all right. He was going to give mesome money, so I might learn to keep accounts; but I'll tell him to keepthe money, and let me have Lorelei instead. "

"Oh, how silly!" cried the boy who didn't like bare feet. 

"No, she isn't; for, if she's kind to the girl, maybe she'll get some ofher pretty things, " said the vain little girl. 

"Keeping accounts is a very useful and important thing. I keep mine; andmamma says I have great arth-met-i-cal talent, " added the pale child, who studied too much. 

"Come, children; it's time for dinner. Fancy, you can take the girl tothe house; and your uncle will do what he thinks best about letting youkeep her, " said Miss Fairbairn, piling them into the basket-wagon. 

Fancy kept Lorelei close beside her; and as soon as they reached thegreat hotel, where they all were staying with mothers and fathers, uncles or aunts, she took her to kind Aunt Fiction, who was interestedat once in the friendless child so mysteriously found. She was satisfiedwith the little she could discover, and promised to keep her, --for atime, at least. 

"We can imagine all kinds of romantic things about her; and, by and by, some interesting story may be found out concerning her. I can make heruseful in many ways; and she shall stay. "

As Aunt Fiction laid her hand on the mermaid's head, as if claiming herfor her own, Uncle Fact came stalking in, with his note-book in hishand, and his spectacles on his nose. Now, though they were married, these two persons were very unlike. Aunt Fiction was a graceful, picturesque woman; who told stories charmingly, wrote poetry and novels, was very much beloved by young folks, and was the friend of some of themost famous people in the world. Uncle Fact was a grim, grave, decidedman; whom it was impossible to bend or change. He was very useful toevery one; knew an immense deal; and was always taking notes of thingshe saw and heard, to be put in a great encyclopædia he was making. Hedidn't like romance, loved the truth, and wanted to get to the bottom ofevery thing. He was always trying to make little Fancy more sober, well-behaved, and learned; for she was a freakish, dreamy, yet verylovable and charming child. Aunt Fiction petted her to her heart'scontent, and might have done her harm, if Uncle Fact had not had a handin her education; for the lessons of both were necessary to her, as toall of us. 

"Well, well, well! who is this?" he said briskly, as he turned his keeneyes and powerful glasses on the new comer. 

Aunt Fiction told him all the children had said; but he answeredimpatiently:

"Tut, tut! my dear: I want the facts of the case. You are apt toexaggerate; and Fancy is not to be relied on. If the child isn't a fool, she must know more about herself than she pretends. Now, answer truly, Luly, where did you come from?"

But the little mermaid only shook her head, and answered as before, "Fancy found me on the beach, and wants me to stay with her. I'll doher no harm: please, let me stay. "

"She has evidently been washed ashore from some wreck, and has forgottenall about herself. Her wonderful beauty, her accent, and these ornamentsshow that she is some foreign child, " said Aunt Fiction, pointing to theearrings. 

"Nonsense! my dear: those are white pebbles, not pearls; and, if youexamine them, you will find that those bracelets are the ones you gaveFancy as a reward for so well remembering the facts I told her aboutcoral, " said the uncle, who had turned Lorelei round and round, pinchedher cheek, felt her hair, and examined her frock through the glasseswhich nothing escaped. 

"She may stay, and be my little playmate, mayn't she? I'll take care ofher; and we shall be very happy together, " cried Fancy eagerly. 

"One can't be sure of that till one has tried. You say you will takecare of her: have you got any money to pay her board, and buy herclothes?" asked her uncle. 

"No; but I thought you'd help me, " answered Fancy wistfully. 

"Never say you'll do a thing till you are sure you can, " said UncleFact, as he took notes of the affair, thinking they might be useful byand by. "I've no objection to your keeping the girl, if, after makinginquiries about her, she proves to be a clever child. She can stayawhile; and, when we go back to town, I'll put her in one of our charityschools, where she can be taught to earn her living. Can you read, Luly?"

"No, " said the mermaid, opening her eyes. 

"Can you write and cipher?"

"What is that?" asked Lorelei innocently. 

"Dear me! what ignorance!" cried Uncle Fact. 

"Can you sew, or tend babies?" asked Aunt Fiction gently. 

"I can do nothing but play and sing, and comb my hair. "

"I see! I see!--some hand-organ man's girl. Well, I'm glad you keep yourhair smooth, --that's more than Fancy does, " said Uncle Fact. 

"Let us hear you sing, " whispered his little niece; and, in a voice asmusical as the sound of ripples breaking on the shore, Lorelei sung alittle song that made Fancy dance with delight, charmed Aunt Fiction, and softened Uncle Fact's hard face in spite of himself. 

"Very well, very well, indeed: you have a good voice. I'll see that youhave proper teaching; and, by and by, you can get your living by givingsinging-lessons, " he said, turning over the leaves of his book, to lookfor the name of a skilful teacher; for he had lists of every usefulperson, place, and thing under the sun. 

Lorelei laughed at the idea; and Fancy thought singing for gold, notlove, a hard way to get one's living. 

Inquiries were made; but nothing more was discovered, and neither of thechildren would speak: so the strange child lived with Fancy, and madeher very happy. The other children didn't care much about her; for withthem she was shy and cold, because she knew, if the truth was told, theywould not believe in her. Fancy had always played a good deal byherself, because she never found a mate to suit her; now she had one, and they enjoyed each other very much. Lorelei taught her many thingsbesides new games; and Aunt Fiction was charmed with the pretty storiesFancy repeated to her, while Uncle Fact was astonished at the knowledgeof marine plants and animals which she gained without any books. Loreleitaught her to swim, like a fish; and the two played such wonderfulpranks in the water that people used to come down to the beach when theybathed. In return, Fancy tried to teach her friend to read and write andsew; but Lorelei couldn't learn much, though she loved her littleteacher dearly, and every evening sung her to sleep with beautifullullabies. 

There was a great deal of talk about the curious stranger; for her wayswere odd, and no one knew what to make of her. She would eat nothingbut fruit and shell-fish, and drink nothing but salt water. She didn'tlike tight clothes; but would have run about in a loose, green robe, with bare feet and flying hair, if Uncle Fact would have allowed it. Morning, noon, and night, she plunged into the sea, --no matter what theweather might be; and she would sleep on no bed but one stuffed withdried sea-weed. She made lovely chains of shells; found splendid bits ofcoral; and dived where no one else dared, to bring up wonderful plantsand mosses. People offered money for these things; but she gave them allto Fancy and Aunt Fiction, of whom she was very fond. It was curious tosee the sort of people who liked both Fancy and her friend, --poets, artists; delicate, thoughtful children; and a few old people, who hadkept their hearts young in spite of care and time and trouble. Dashingyoung gentlemen, fine young ladies, worldly-minded and money-loving menand women, and artificial, unchildlike children, the two friends avoidedcarefully; and these persons either made fun of them, neglected thementirely, or seemed to be unconscious that they were alive. The othersthey knew at a glance; for their faces warmed and brightened when thechildren came, they listened to their songs and stories, joined in theirplays, and found rest and refreshment in their sweet society. 

"This will do for a time; as Fancy is getting strong, and not entirelywasting her days, thanks to me! But our holiday is nearly over; and, assoon as I get back to town, I'll take that child to the Ragged Refuge, and see what they can make of her, " said Uncle Fact, who was never quitesatisfied about Lorelei; because he could find out so little concerningher. He was walking over the beach as he said this, after a hard day'swork on his encyclopædia. He sat down on a rock in a quiet place; and, instead of enjoying the lovely sunset, he fell to studying the course ofthe clouds, the state of the tide, and the temperature of the air, tillthe sound of voices made him peep over the rock. Fancy and her friendwere playing there, and the old gentleman waited to see what they wereabout. Both were sitting with their little bare feet in the water;Lorelei was stringing pearls, and Fancy plaiting a crown of pretty greenrushes. 

"I wish I could go home, and get you a string of finer pearls thanthese, " said Lorelei; "but it is too far away, and I cannot swim now asI used to do. "

"I must look into this. The girl evidently knows all about herself, andcan tell, if she chooses, " muttered Uncle Fact, getting rather excitedover this discovery. 

"Never mind the pearls: I'd rather have you, dear, " said Fancy lovingly. "Tell me a story while we work, or sing me a song; and I'll give you mycrown. "

"I'll sing you a little song that has got what your uncle calls a moralto it, " said Lorelei, laughing mischievously. Then, in her breezy littlevoice, she sang the story of--

THE ROCK AND THE BUBBLE. 

 Oh! a bare, brown rock Stood up in the sea, The waves at its feet Dancing merrily. 

 A little bubble Came sailing by, And thus to the rock Did it gayly cry, --

 "Ho! clumsy brown stone, Quick, make way for me: I'm the fairest thing That floats on the sea. 

 "See my rainbow-robe, See my crown of light, My glittering form, So airy and bright. 

 "O'er the waters blue, I'm floating away, To dance by the shore With the foam and spray. 

 "Now, make way, make way; For the waves are strong, And their rippling feet Bear me fast along. "

 But the great rock stood Straight up in the sea: It looked gravely down, And said pleasantly, --

 "Little friend, you must Go some other way; For I have not stirred This many a long day. 

 "Great billows have dashed, And angry winds blown; But my sturdy form Is not overthrown. 

 "Nothing can stir me In the air or sea; Then, how can I move, Little friend, for thee?"

 Then the waves all laughed, In their voices sweet; And the sea-birds looked, From their rocky seat, At the bubble gay, Who angrily cried, While its round cheek glowed With a foolish pride, --

 "You _shall_ move for me; And you shall not mock At the words I say, You ugly, rough rock!

 "Be silent, wild birds! Why stare you so? Stop laughing, rude waves, And help me to go!

 "For I am the queen Of the ocean here, And this cruel stone Cannot make me fear. "

 Dashing fiercely up, With a scornful word, Foolish bubble broke; But rock never stirred. 

 Then said the sea-birds, Sitting in their nests, To the little ones Leaning on their breasts, --

 "Be not like Bubble, Headstrong, rude, and vain, Seeking by violence Your object to gain;

 "But be like the rock, Steadfast, true, and strong, Yet cheerful and kind, And firm against wrong. 

 "Heed, little birdlings, And wiser you'll be For the lesson learned To-day by the sea. "

"Well, to be sure the song _has_ got a moral, if that silly Fancy onlysees it, " said Uncle Fact, popping up his bald head again as the songended. 

"I thank you: that's a good little song for me. But, Lorelei, are yousorry you came to be my friend?" cried Fancy; for, as she bent to laythe crown on the other's head, she saw that she was looking wistfullydown into the water that kissed her feet. 

"Not yet: while you love me, I am happy, and never regret that I ceasedto be a mermaid for your sake, " answered Lorelei, laying her soft cheekagainst her friend's. 

"How happy I was the day my play-mermaid changed to a real one!" saidFancy. "I often want to tell people all about that wonderful thing, andlet them know who you really are: then they'd love you as I do, insteadof calling you a little vagabond. "

"Few would believe our story; and those that did would wonder atme, --not love me as you do. They would put me in a cage, and make a showof me; and I should be so miserable I should die. So don't tell who Iam, will you?" said Lorelei earnestly. 

"Never, " cried Fancy, clinging to her. "But, my deary, what will you dowhen uncle sends you away from me, as he means to do as soon as we gohome? I can see you sometimes; but we cannot be always together, andthere is no ocean for you to enjoy in the city. "

"I shall bear it, if I can, for your sake; if I cannot, I shall comeback here, and wait till you come again next year. "

"No, no! I will not be parted from you; and, if uncle takes you away, I'll come here, and be a mermaid with you, " cried Fancy. 

The little friends threw their arms about each other, and were so fullof their own feelings that they never saw Uncle Fact's tall shadow flitacross them, as he stole away over the soft sand. Poor old gentleman! hewas in a sad state of mind, and didn't know what to do; for in all hislong life he had never been so puzzled before. 

"A mermaid indeed!" he muttered. "I always thought that child was afool, and now I'm sure of it. She thinks she is a mermaid, and has madeFancy believe it. I've told my wife a dozen times that she let Fancyread too many fairy tales and wonder-books. Her head is full ofnonsense, and she is just ready to believe any ridiculous story that istold her. Now, what on earth shall I do? If I put Luly in an asylum, Fancy will break her heart, and very likely they will both run away. IfI leave them together, Luly will soon make Fancy as crazy as she isherself, and I shall be mortified by having a niece who insists that herplaymate is a mermaid. Bless my soul! how absurd it all is!"

Aunt Fiction had gone to town to see her publishers about a novel shehad written, and he didn't like to tell the queer story to any one else;so Uncle Fact thought it over, and decided to settle the matter atonce. When the children came in, he sent Fancy to wait for him in thelibrary, while he talked alone with Lorelei. He did his best; but hecould do nothing with her, --she danced and laughed, and told the sametale as before, till the old gentleman confessed that he had heard theirtalk on the rocks: then she grew very sad, and owned that she _was_ amermaid. This made him angry, and he wouldn't believe it for an instant;but told her it was impossible, and she must say something else. 

Lorelei could say nothing else, and wept bitterly when he would notlisten; so he locked her up and went to Fancy, who felt as if somethingdreadful was going to happen when she saw his face. He told her all heknew, and insisted that Lorelei was foolish or naughty to persist insuch a ridiculous story. 

"But, uncle, I really did make a mermaid; and she really did come alive, for I saw the figure float away, and then Lorelei appeared, " said Fancy, very earnestly. 

"It's very likely you made a figure, and called it a mermaid: it wouldbe just the sort of thing you'd do, " said her uncle. "But it isimpossible that any coming alive took place, and I won't hear any suchnonsense. You didn't see this girl come out of the water; for she saysyou never looked up, till she touched you. She was a real child, whocame over the beach from somewhere; and you fancied she looked likeyour figure, and believed the silly tale she told you. It is my beliefthat she is a sly, bad child; and the sooner she is sent away the betterfor you. "

Uncle Fact was so angry and talked so loud, that Fancy felt frightenedand bewildered; and began to think he might be right about the mermaidpart, though she hated to give up the little romance. 

"If I agree that she _is_ a real child, won't you let her stay, uncle?"she said, forgetting that, if she lost her faith, her friend was lostalso. 

"Ah! then you have begun to come to your senses, have you? and are readyto own that you don't believe in mermaids and such rubbish?" cried UncleFact, stopping in his tramp up and down the room. 

"Why, if you say there never were and never can be any, I suppose I_must_ give up my fancy; but I'm sorry, " sighed the child. 

"That's my sensible girl! Now, think a minute, my dear, and you willalso own that it is best to give up the child as well as the mermaid, "said her uncle briskly. 

"Oh! no: we love one another; and she is good, and I can't give her up, "cried Fancy. 

"Answer me a few questions; and I'll prove that she isn't good, that youdon't love her, and that you _can_ give her up, " said Uncle Fact, andnumbered off the questions on his fingers as he spoke. 

"Didn't Luly want you to deceive us, and every one else, about who shewas?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Don't you like to be with her better than with your aunt or myself?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Hadn't you rather hear her songs and stories than learn your lessons?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Isn't it wrong to deceive people, to love strangers more than those whoare a father and mother to you, and to like silly tales better thanuseful lessons?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Very well. Then, don't you see, that, if Luly makes you do these wrongand ungrateful things, she is not a good child, nor a fit playmate foryou?"

Fancy didn't answer; for she couldn't feel that it was so, though hemade it seem so. When Uncle Fact talked in that way, she always gotconfused and gave up; for she didn't know how to argue. He was right ina certain way; but she felt as if she was right also in another way, though she could not prove it: so she hung her head, and let her tearsdrop on the carpet one by one. 

Uncle Fact didn't mean to be unkind, but he did mean to have his ownway; and, when he saw the little girl's sad face, he took her on hisknee, and said, more mildly:

"Do you remember the story about the German Lorelei, who sung sosweetly, and lured people to death in the Rhine?"

"Yes, uncle; and I like it, " answered Fancy, looking up. 

"Well, my dear, your Lorelei will lead you into trouble, if you followher. Suppose she is what you think her, --a mermaid: it is her delight todraw people into the water, where, of course, they drown. If she is whatI think her, --a sly, bad child, who sees that you are very simple, andwho means to get taken care of without doing any thing useful, --she willspoil you in a worse way than if you followed her into the sea. I've gotno little daughter of my own, and I want to keep you as safe and happyas if you were mine. I don't like this girl, and I want you to give herup for my sake. Will you, Fancy?"

While her uncle said these things, all the beauty seemed to fall awayfrom her friend, all the sweetness from their love, and all her faith inthe little dream which had made her so happy. Mermaids becametreacherous, unlovely, unreal creatures; and Lorelei seemed like anaughty, selfish child, who deceived her, and made her do wrong things. Her uncle had been very kind to her all her life; and she loved him, wasgrateful, and wanted to show that she was, by pleasing him. But herheart clung to the friend she had made, trusted, and loved; and itseemed impossible to give up the shadow, even though the substance wasgone. She put her hands before her face for a moment; then laid her armsabout the old man's neck, and whispered, with a little sob:

"I'll give her up; but you'll be kind to her, because I was fond of heronce. "

As the last word left Fancy's lips, a long, sad cry sounded through theroom; Lorelei sprung in, gave her one kiss, and was seen to run swiftlytoward the beach, wringing her hands. Fancy flew after; but, when shereached the shore, there was nothing to be seen but the scatteredpebbles, shells, and weeds that made the mock mermaid, floating away ona receding wave. 

"Do you believe now?" cried Fancy, weeping bitterly, as she pointed tothe wreck of her friend, and turned reproachfully toward Uncle Fact, whohad followed in great astonishment. 

The old gentleman looked well about him; then shook his head, andanswered decidedly:

"No, my dear, I _don't_. It's an odd affair; but, I've no doubt, it willbe cleared up in a natural way sometime or other. "

But there he was mistaken; for this mystery never _was_ cleared up. Other people soon forgot it, and Fancy never spoke of it; yet she madevery few friends, and, though she learned to love and value Uncle Factas well as Aunt Fiction, she could not forget her dearest playmate. Yearafter year she came back to the sea-side; and the first thing she alwaysdid was to visit the place where she used to play, and stretch her armstoward the sea, crying tenderly:

"O my little friend! come back to me!"

But Lorelei never came again. 

THE END. 

 * * * * *

LOUISA M. ALCOTT'S FAMOUS BOOKS

[Illustration: "Sing, Tessa; sing!" cried Tommo, twanging away with allhis might. --PAGE 47. ]

AUNT JO'S SCRAP-BAG: Containing "My Boys, " "Shawl-Straps, " "Cupid andChow-Chow, " "My Girls, " "Jimmy's Cruise in the Pinafore, " "AnOld-Fashioned Thanksgiving. " 6 vols. Price of each, $1. 00. 

ROBERTS BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, _Boston_. 

 * * * * *

LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON'S STORIES. 

[Illustration]

BED-TIME STORIES. 

 MORE BED-TIME STORIES. 

 NEW BED-TIME STORIES. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY ADDIE LEDYARD. 

Three volumes in a box. Price, $3. 75. 

_ROBERTS BROTHERS_, _Publishers_, BOSTON. 

 * * * * *

AUNT JO'S SCRAP-BAG. 

CUPID AND CHOW-CHOW, ETC. 

[Illustration: SCRAP-BAG. VOL III. ]

BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT, AUTHOR OF "LITTLE WOMEN, " "AN OLD-FASHIONED GIRL, " "LITTLE MEN, ""HOSPITAL SKETCHES. "

BOSTON:

ROBERTS BROTHERS. 

1881. 

 * * * * *

Jean Ingelow's Prose Story Books. 

In 5 vols. 16mo, uniformly bound. 

STUDIES FOR STORIES FROM GIRLS' LIVES. Illustrated, Price, $1. 25. 

 "A rare source of delight for all who can find pleasure in really good works of prose fiction. . . . They are prose poems, carefully meditated, and exquisitely couched in by a teacher ready to sympathize with every joy and sorrow. "--_Athenæum. _

STORIES TOLD TO A CHILD. Illustrated. Price, $1. 25. 

STORIES TOLD TO A CHILD. Second Series. Illustrated. Price, $1. 25. 

 "This is one of the most charming juvenile books ever laid on our table. Jean Ingelow, the noble English poet, second only to Mrs. Browning, bends easily and gracefully from the heights of thought and fine imagination to commune with the minds and hearts of children; to sympathize with their little joys and sorrows; to feel for their temptations. She is a safe guide for the little pilgrims; for her paths, though 'paths of pleasantness, ' lead straight upward. "--_Grace Greenwood in "The Little Pilgrim. "_

A SISTER'S BYE-HOURS. Illustrated. Price, $1. 25. 

 "Seven short stories of domestic life by one of the most popular of the young authors of the day, --an author who has her heart in what she writes, --Jean Ingelow. And there is heart in these stories, and healthy moral lessons, too. They are written in the author's most graceful and affecting style, will be read with real pleasure, and, when read, will leave more than momentary impressions. "--_Brooklyn Union. _

MOPSA THE FAIRY. A Story. With Eight Illustrations. Price, $1. 25. 

 "Miss Ingelow is, to our mind, the most charming of all living writers for children, and 'Mopsa' alone ought to give her a kind of pre-emptive right to the love and gratitude of our young folks. It requires genius to conceive a purely imaginary work which must of necessity deal with the supernatural, without running into a mere riot of fantastic absurdity; but genius Miss Ingelow has, and the story of Jack is as careless and joyous, but as delicate, as a picture of childhood. 

 "The young people should be grateful to Jean Ingelow and those other noble writers, who, in our day, have taken upon themselves the task of supplying them with literature, if for no other reason, that these writers have saved them from the ineffable didacticism which, till within the last few years, was considered the only food fit for the youthful mind. "--_Eclectic. _

_Sold everywhere. Mailed, postpaid, by the Publishers. _

ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON. 

 * * * * *

_Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Publications. _

CASTLE BLAIR:

A STORY OF YOUTHFUL DAYS. 

BY FLORA L. SHAW. 

16mo. Cloth. Price $1. 00

 "There is quite a lovely little book just come out about children, --'Castle Blair!' . . . The book is good, and lovely, and true, having the best description of a noble child in it (Winnie) that I ever read; and nearly the best description of the next best thing, --a noble dog, " says John Ruskin, the distinguished art critic. 

 "'Castle Blair, ' a story of youthful days, by Flora L. Shaw, is an Irish story. A charming young girl--half French, half English--comes from France, at the age of eighteen, to live with her bachelor uncle at Castle Blair, which is in possession of five children of an absent brother of this uncle. The children are in a somewhat wild and undisciplined condition, but they are as interesting children as can be imagined, and some of them winning to an extraordinary degree. They are natural children, in manner and in talk; but the book differs from some American books about children, in that it is pervaded by an air of refinement and good-breeding. The story is altogether delightful, quite worthy, from an American point of view, of all Mr. Ruskin says of it; and if circulation were determined by merit, it would speedily outstrip a good many now popular children's books which have a vein of commonness, if not of vulgarity. "--_Hartford Courant. _

 "It is not too much to say that nothing more interesting or more wholesome is offered this year for older boys and girls. It is a charming story, in which the author has delineated character as carefully, and with as keen an artistic sense, as if she had been writing a novel. Her book is a novel, indeed, with children and the lives of children, instead of men and women and their lives, for its theme. "--_New York Evening Post. _

_Our publications are to be had of all Booksellers. When not to befound, send directly to_

ROBERTS BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, =BOSTON. =

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_Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Publications. _

NELLY'S SILVER MINE. 

BY H. H. 

With Illustrations. 16mo, cloth. Price $1. 50. 

 "The sketches of life, especially of its odd and out-of-the-way aspects, by H. H. Always possess so vivid a reality that they appear more like the actual scenes than any copy by pencil or photograph. They form a series of living pictures, radiant with sunlight and fresh as morning dew. In this new story the fruits of her fine genius are of Colorado growth, and though without the antique flavor of her recollections of Rome and Venice, are as delicious to the taste as they are tempting to the eye, and afford a natural feast of exquisite quality. "--_N. Y. Tribune. _

 "This charming little book, written for children's entertainment and instruction, is equally delightful to the fathers and mothers. It is life in New England, and the racy history of a long railway journey to the wilds of Colorado. The children are neither imps nor angels, but just such children as are found in every happy home. The pictures are so graphically drawn that we feel well acquainted with Rob and Nelly, have travelled with them and climbed mountains and found silver mines, and know all about the rude life made beautiful by a happy family, and can say of Nelly, with their German neighbor, Mr. Kleesman, 'Ach well, she haf better than any silver mine in her own self. '"--_Chicago Inter-Ocean. _

 "In 'Nelly's Silver Mine' Mrs. Helen Hunt Jackson has given us a true classic for the nursery and the school-room, but its readers will not be confined to any locality. Its vivid portraiture of Colorado life and its truth to child-nature give it a charm which the most experienced cannot fail to feel. It will stand by the side of Miss Edgeworth and Mrs. Barbauld in all the years to come. "--_Mrs. Caroline H. Dall. _

 "We heartily commend the book for its healthy spirit, its lively narrative, and its freedom from most of the faults of books for children. "--_Atlantic Monthly. _

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