[Illustration: The good-natured Giant]

THE

TWO STORY MITTENS

AND THE

LITTLE PLAY MITTENS:

BEING

THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE SERIES. 

BY

AUNT FANNY, AUTHOR OF THE SIX NIGHTCAP BOOKS, ETC. 

 NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 443 & 445 BROADWAY. LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN. 1867. 

 Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1862, by FANNY BARROW, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. 

 I DEDICATE

 THESE TWO STORIES AND THIS LITTLE PLAY

 TO MY FRIEND

 MR. FRANK A----, who makes fun of me before my face and speaks well of me behind my back. 

I don't mind the first a bit; and as long as he continues to practisethe second, we will fight under the same flag. 

 LONG MAY IT AND HE WAVE!

CONTENTS. 

 PAGE

 MORE ABOUT THE MITTENS, 7

 THE PARTY LILLIE GAVE FOR MISS FLORENCE, 12

 THE FAIRY BENEVOLENCE, 45

 MASTER EDWARD'S TRIAL, 80

 THE LITTLE PLAY MITTENS, 139

MORE ABOUT THE MITTENS. 

THE mittens were coming bravely on. Some evenings, Aunt Fanny could notsend a story; and then the little mother read an entertaining book, orchatted pleasantly with her children. 

There had been twelve pairs finished, during the reading of the thirdbook, and several more were on the way. George had written the mostdelightful letters, each of which was read to his eagerly-listeningsisters and brothers several times, for they were never tired of hearingabout life in camp. 

This evening, the mother drew another letter, received that day, out ofher pocket. The very sight of the envelope, with the precious flag inthe corner, caused their eyes to sparkle, and their fingers to fly attheir patriotic and loving work. 

"Attention!" said the mother in a severe, military tone. Everybody burstout laughing, choked it off, immediately straightened themselves up asstiff as ramrods, and she began:

 "DEAR MOTHER, CAPTAIN, AND ALL THE BELOVED SQUAD:--Our camp is splendid! We call it Camp Ellsworth. It covers the westward slope of a beautiful hill. The air is pure and fresh, and our streets (for we have real ones) are kept as clean as a pin. Not an end of a cigar, or an inch of potato peeling, dare to show themselves. Directly back of the camp strong earthworks have been thrown up, with rifle pits in front; and these are manned by four artillery companies from New York. Our commissary is a very good fellow, but I wish he would buy pork with less fat. I am like the boy in school, who wrote home to his mother, his face all puckered up with disgust: "They make us eat p-h-a-t!!" When I swizzle it (or whatever you call that kind of cooking) in a pan over the fire, there is nothing left of a large slice, but a little shrivelled brown bit, swimming in about half a pint of melted lard, not quarter enough to satisfy a great robin redbreast like me; but I make the most of it, by pointing my bread for some time at it, and then eating a lot of bread before I begin at the pork. The pointing, you see, gives the bread a flavor. "

The children screamed with laughter at this, and wanted to have somesalt pork cooked immediately to try the "pointing" flavor. Their motherpromised to have some for breakfast, and went on reading:

 "We are very busy at drills. I give the boys plenty of field exercise, quick step, skirmishes, double quick, and all manner of manoeuvres. After drill, we sing songs, tell jokes, and _play_ jokes upon each other, but we don't forget, in doing this, that we are _gentlemen_. 

 "Oh dear mother, I am crazy to be in action! I am afraid, if we don't have a battle soon, I shall get motheaten. Our General is a glorious fellow, and is just as anxious as we are to have it over; peace will come all the sooner. Hollo! Here comes "Tapp, " and I must blow out my half inch of tallow candle, and go to bed. 

 "Good-by, all my dear ones. Love and pray for your affectionate son and brother, GEORGE. "

"Ah!" sighed the children, as the mother folded up the letter. Then theywere silent, thinking of the dear brother who wanted so much to be inthe dreadful battle; and the little mother was looking very mournfulwhen there came a ring at the bell. 

The servant handed in a package, which proved to be a story from "AuntFanny. " It came very fortunately; and the mittens grew fast, as thelittle mother read the interesting history of--

 THE PARTY LILLIE GAVE FOR MISS FLORENCE. 

THE PARTY LILLIE GAVE FOR MISS FLORENCE. 

"OH, mamma, please _do_ buy me a new doll, " said Lillie, one day inJune. 

"Why, how you talk!" answered her mother. "What has become of your largefamily?"

"Oh, mamma! Minnie, the china doll, has only one leg, and my three waxdolls are no better. Fanny has only one arm; both Julia's eyes are out;and the kitten scratched off Maria's wig the other day, and she has themost dreadful-looking, bald pate you ever saw! Instead of its being madeof nice white wax, it is nothing but old brown paper! I think it isvery mean not to make dolls' bald heads like other people's! Then Icould have dressed Maria up in pantaloons, and made a grandfather ofher. But now she is fit for nothing but to be put in a cornfield toscare away the crows. "

Lillie's mother laughed, and kissed her lovely daughter, who had not metwith any of the terrible misfortunes that had befallen her wax and chinafamily. _She_ had both her round and chubby white arms; and two prettyand active legs, that made themselves very useful in skipping andjumping from morning till night; and just the prettiest golden brown wigyou ever saw. It was fastened on so tight, that the kitten, with all herscratchings, could never twitch it off; in fact, every single hair wasfastened by a root in her dear little head, and fell in soft, naturalcurls over her dimpled cheeks. 

That very afternoon, her mother went out shopping; and looking in at atoy shop window, she saw a splendid wax doll nearly three feet long. Itwas dressed up in all manner of furbelows, but the dress did not lookhalf so fresh and lovely as the doll. The arms and hands were all wax, round, pinky-white, and beautifully shaped, with two cunning dimples inthe elbows, and four little dimples in the back of each hand. She haddark curling hair, large blue eyes, and very small feet. 

"Well, " said the loving mother to herself, "I really _must_ try to getthis splendid doll for my darling Lillie. " Her own gentle blue eyesquite sparkled at the thought of the happiness such a present wouldbring with it. So she walked quickly in, and asked the price. 

Oh dear! It was twenty dollars!

This was more than the mother thought right to give for the doll; andshe told the man so, very politely. He was a very wise man, and what ismore and better, kept a toy shop, because he loved children dearly; sohe put his head on one side, and thought; then he looked out of thecorner of his eye at the lady, and saw what a pleasant, sweet expressionwas on her face; then he thought again--this time, how disappointed thesweet little girl at home would be, if she knew her mother was outlooking for a doll for her, and came home without one; and then he said, "What do you think the doll is worth?"

Lillie's mother told him what she considered a fair price, and thedarling, good toyman spoke up as quick as a flash, "You shall have it, ma'am! Here, John, put this doll in paper, and take it to 'No. 13Clinton Place. '"

[ILLUSTRATION: Helen's Return Home. ]

Lillie's sister Helen was going to spend the summer with her deargrandmamma in Middletown. A splendid idea came into the kind mother'shead. Taking Helen into a room alone, she said, "My dear, you will wantsome sewing to do, while you are away; suppose you take the beautifuldoll and make up several suits of clothes for her, just as neatly aspossible. I am sure your grandmamma will help you; and when you return, we will have a delightful surprise for Lillie. " The darling, goodsister, was just as pleased as possible with this plan: indeed, she hadnot got past liking to play with dolls herself; and she was verydifferent from some elder sisters, who take an unamiable pleasure inteasing the younger ones, instead of joining in their plays, and doingeverything to add to their happiness. So the doll and all sorts ofpretty muslins and silks, and materials for under garments, weremysteriously packed away in Helen's trunk, and she went off to hergrandmother's pleasant country house, without Lillie's having theslightest suspicion of what she was going to do. She was very busy allsummer making the clothes, with her grandmamma's help. Many of thepleasant mornings she sat on the steps of the door, listening to thesinging of the birds as she sewed. 

[Illustration]

And now this is a very good place to tell you about Lillie and hersisters; for she had three dear sisters--Helen, Mary, and sweet littleMaggie; and no brother at all. The only one she ever had, went to livewith Jesus in heaven, after staying only fifteen months here in thisworld. 

You know already what a kind mother the children had; and I am verycertain their papa loved them just as much. When he is with them, hisdark, bright, and piercing eyes droop and soften into an expression ofso much affection, that one day, when I was visiting at his house, Icaught myself repeating the words of a perfect little poem, which seemedto have been written expressly for him. It is so beautiful, anddescribes the children so well, with the change of one or two words, that I have ventured to copy it here for you. It was written by GeraldMassey. 

 "There be four maidens; four loving maidens; Four bonny maidens, mine; Four precious jewels are set in Life's crown, On prayer-lifted brows to shine. Eight starry eyes, all love-luminous, Look out of our heaven so tender; Since the honeymoon glowing and glorious Arose in its ripening splendor. 

 "There's Lillie bell, the duchess of wonderland, With her dance of life, dimples and curls; Whose bud of a mouth into sweet kisses bursts, A-smile with the little white pearls: And Mary our rosily-goldening peach, On the sunniest side of the wall; And Helen--mother's own darling, And Maggie, the baby of all. "

The summer was passed by our dear little Lillie in playing andfrolicking, and sometimes tearing her frocks; which last, her motherminded not the least bit, as long as it was an accident. I don't, either. Children had better tear their frocks a little, jumping, climbing over fences, and getting fat and healthy, than to sit in thehouse, looking pale and miserable. My Alice often comes in, a perfectobject to behold! I sometimes wonder the ragman, who drives the oldcart with a row of jingling bells strung over the top, don't mistake herfor a bundle of rags gone out for a walk. I don't feel _worried_ aboutit; for if he _should_ happen to make this mistake, and pop her in hiscart some day, Alice would make one of her celebrated Indian "yoops, " asshe calls it, and I rather think he would pop her out, quicker than shewent in. 

When September had come, Helen returned home; and soon after, the mothersaid, "Lillie, there is a young lady in town, who wishes to make youracquaintance. She is quite grand and fashionable in her ideas, so wemust make a little flourish for her. What do you think of having a partyto receive her?"

"A party!" screamed Lillie, clapping her hands with delight; "I wouldlike that _very_ much; and oh! please have candy, and oranges, and oh!mottoes--lots of snapping mottoes for the party! That would be mostdelightful! And please ask Nattie, and Kittie, and Lina, and Emily, andoh! everybody. "

"You must ask them yourself. See, here is a quantity of pretty buff andpink note paper, and here is a nice new pen: sit down and write yourinvitations. "

This was a tremendous business! and Lillie, spreading herself in greatgrandeur, with her head on one side, took the pen and wrote very nicely, _for her_, all the notes, in this way:

 "Miss Lillie B---- wishes you To Come to A party to-morrow to Meet A young Lady. Her name Is--i Don't Know Yet. Please Come At Seven-o-Clock. LILLIE. "

Then she doubled them up into little squares, and put them into theenvelopes; and Margery, the maid, who loved Lillie dearly, and _would_have rode off with the notes on a broomstick to Jerusalem, if her littlelady had wanted her to--trotted about all the morning, leaving them atthe children's houses, telling the waiters who answered the doors, on noaccount to stop a single moment, but rush right up stairs with them, asthey were of the greatest importance. 

The next morning, Lillie got all the answers. I should think there wereabout twenty little notes, all directed to her. Was ever anything knownto equal it? A lady getting so many letters at once! It was almost toomuch happiness. They did not all come at once, which was very lucky; forI do believe Lillie would have gone crazy with delight. She opened thefirst with trembling eagerness, dancing up and down the whole time, andread these enchanting words:

 "dear lillie--

 "i will come. I shall wear my best frock--what a funny name the young lady has. Miss don't know yet

 "good bye. Yours, NATTIE. "

"Oh, mamma, " she cried, laughing, "Nattie thinks the young lady's nameis 'Miss Don't Know Yet!' How funny! But really, what is her name, mamma?"

"She will tell you that herself, when she comes. She wants to surpriseyou. "

"Oh!" said Lillie; and just then another note was handed to her, and sheread this:

 "DEAR LILLIE:--Mamma is writing this note for me, and she says--I accept your invitation with much pleasure. So I do, certainly. What delightful fun it is to go to a party! I wish you would have one every week. "Your loving friend, KITTY. "

"Oh, mamma"--Lillie was just going to ask her mother to let her have aparty every week--when Maggie brought another note. This was from ayoung gentleman, and was as follows:

 "Master Russell is coming to Your Party; and I will Eat all the plum Cake, and bring A pack of Crackers In my pocket--to fire off in honor Of Miss Doughnut. "Yours affectionately, "SAM RUSSELL. "

Lillie thought this was a splendid idea! It would be such an honor tothe young lady to receive her with popping a pack of crackers at her, just as they fire off cannon at the President when he comes to town. 

"Oh, how enchanting it is!" she cried, and she jumped up on a chair andjumped down again three times running, she was so happy. 

Everybody was coming, and all wrote notes very like those I have toldyou. The weather was beautiful, and, for a wonder, everything went justright. 

Long before seven o'clock, Lillie was dressed and in the parlor waitingfor her little friends. She got very impatient, and was just beginningto think they never meant to come; or had all been naughty, and weresent to bed instead of going to a party, when the door bell rang--thenagain--then again--and a moment after a little troop of laughing, lovelychildren skipped into the room, all talking together, and all running tokiss Lillie at once; so that not a quarter of them could find a place onher sweet, happy face, and had to wait for their turn. 

Then some nice little boys came in, with their faces scrubbed so cleanthey fairly shone, and their hair parted down the middle behind so veryeven that the seam looked like a streak of white chalk. They went up toLillie very bashfully, and shook hands; and then all got together in acorner, because you see they were afraid of the girls, and imaginedthat they were making fun of them. 

But after a little while this fear seemed to fly up the chimney, forboys and girls were playing "turn the platter, " and "hunt the ring, " andthe larger ones were dancing; and everybody was having the mostdelightful time possible. 

Dear little rosebud Maggie was the happiest of any, for she was to situp until every scrap of the party was over; so everybody kissed her, andplayed with her, and showed her how to turn the platter, and she skippedand danced; and that dear little chuckling, singing laugh of hers washeard in every corner of the room. The fact is, Little Maggie is one ofmy particular darlings. Don't tell anybody. 

But where was the young lady all this time?

Lillie had scarcely thought of her, she was so happy with the dearlittle friends she knew and loved. Of course a stranger could not expectto have the same place in her loving heart, especially as she had notyet had even the first peep at her. 

Her sister Mary had gone out of the room a little while before, andLillie was wondering why she did not return, when there came atremendous ringing at the bell. 

"She's coming!" whispered Lillie to herself, and her heart beat fast asthe door opened; and there marched gravely in--not a young lady--but alittle old gentleman, whose hair was perfectly white, though he seemedto have a great deal of it, for his head was about the size of a halfpeck measure. He wore a very long-tailed coat, buttoned up very tight;his pantaloons only reached down to his knees; but to make up for thathis stockings came up to meet them, and were fastened with perfectlybeautiful garters, with a big silver buckle shining in the very middle;shoes, also flourishing large silver buckles, adorned his feet. So yousee he was quite an old dandy. 

Leaning on his arm was a little old lady. Her hair was also as white assnow; and she too had so much, and it was so fuzzy, that it looked forall the world like a pound of cotton batting. She was dressed in themost gorgeous array, perfectly elegant to behold! white satin, andflowers, and furbelows; and was so very dignified and stiff in hermanners that Lillie thought she must have fallen into a kettle ofstarch. 

Another tremendous ring at the bell! and the servant who answered itcame into the parlor and said the little old gentleman and lady werewanted out in the hall immediately. 

They made each a low bow and marched out of the room, while thechildren's bright eyes grew larger and larger, and they asked eachother, with a little hop and skip apiece, what in the world was comingnext. 

As to Lillie, the lovely pink roses deepened on her cheeks; her eyesshone like diamonds, and two dimples kept playing hide and seek with thesmiles that were chasing them every instant. 

It was a breathless moment! All were waiting--their eyes fastened on thedoor. The knob turned--it slowly opened--and in marched the little oldlady and gentleman, holding between them by the hands, the mostperfectly beautiful young lady that was ever seen in the whole world!!

She had on a white tarleton dress, with two skirts trimmed withcherry-colored blond lace. The waist was gathered in at the belt, andfinished round the neck with a beautiful lace berthe. She wore a sash ofcherry-colored satin ribbon, and in her belt was an elegant chatelaine, from which hung a tiny gold watch exactly the size of a five cent piece. A necklace was round her neck, and a wreath of flowers upon her head. She had fine open-worked stockings and morocco shoes. In her right handwas the cunningest little fan that ever was seen! and altogether she wasquite the belle of the evening. 

All the children drew a long breath! and gazed with admiration as thethree strangers marched all round the room. Then they stopped in thevery middle, and Lillie's mother, stepping up beside them, gracefullywaved her hand and said:

"Ladies and gentlemen, let me present to you Mr. And Mrs. Grey, and MissFlorence Grey. "

The little old gentleman put his hand on his heart, and made such a lowbow to the company that they saw the back of his bushy white head, andhis long coat tails stuck out behind like a pennon in a high breeze; andthe little old lady put her hand on _her_ heart, and dropped such a lowcourtesy that the children thought she meant to sit down on the carpet;but Miss Florence looked straight before her, and never took theslightest notice of anybody. 

Just then a queer little laugh was heard; a kind of a smothered, bursting laugh. The children stared! and there was the little oldgentleman stuffing his pocket handkerchief into his mouth, andperfectly shaking with laughter!! What conduct in an aged person!! Butworse was coming! The little old lady began to laugh; then she screamedwith laughter, and shook so that a most dreadful thing happened! Shelaughed all the hair off her head! It first tumbled over sideways, andthen fell on the carpet all in a bunch!

"Sister Mary!! sister Mary!!" cried Lillie, running up to the little oldlady, who, strange to tell! had another crop of beautiful golden brownhair under the other, smoothed down very close to her head. 

"Why, it's a wig!" screamed the children, all laughing and running up. Was there ever anything so funny: "It's nothing but Miss Mary in a wig. "

At this very moment Master Sam Russell stepped slyly behind the littleold gentleman, and twitched at his bushy white hair. It all came off inhis hand amid roars of laughter; and underneath was the brown head ofHarry, one of the greatest fellows for fun you ever saw, and a dearcousin of Lillie's. 

But Miss Florence stared at it all with a simpering smile on her face;till Lillie, looking close at her, caught her up in her arms, andhugging her to her breast screamed joyfully out--"It's a new doll! a newdoll!! Miss Florence is a new doll!!" and began running round the wholelength of the two rooms, all the children scampering after her, laughingand shouting, till they threw themselves down on the sofas and chairs, perfectly breathless. 

Yes, Miss Florence was a splendid wax doll; and the children gatheredround Lillie, after just one second of rest, for they could not possiblybe expected to sit still longer than that; and admired and kissed thestranger; and "Oh, what a darling! what lovely eyes! what pretty boots!how big she is! and so on, " was heard on all sides. 

A tremendous ring at the bell! Why! were wonders never to cease? In cameMargery saying there was a trunk in the hall left by the expressman, whosaid Miss Florence Grey must pay him twenty-five cents, and he would notstir a step till she did. 

Here was a difficulty! Lillie's money never had a chance to burn a holein _her_ pocket, because she spent it the very moment her mamma or papagave her any; and she did not know where twenty-five cents were to comefrom. 

"Suppose you feel in Miss Florence's pocket, " said her mother. 

"Ah! let's see!" cried Lillie; so she poked two of her little fingers inthe pocket, and sure enough! there was a bright, new quarter of adollar. She rushed out and gave it to the expressman, who hardly waitedto say, "thank you, " but was on his wagon with a bound, and round thecorner like a flash of lightning. 

Well, there in the hall was a beautiful new trunk! two of the boysbrought it in very politely. But it was locked. What was to be done now?

"Feel in Miss Florence's pocket, " advised the good mother again. 

Lillie poked in two little fingers as before, and said that way down inthe bottom there was certainly something. She caught it at last, andwhen it was fished out, it proved to be a small key. 

All the children crowded round as the trunk was unlocked; and then youwould have given a hundred dollars, only to see their faces, and hearthem clap their hands, and exclaim with delight as dress after dress, and petticoats all tucked up, pantalettes with the most beautifulembroidery round the legs, and a round straw hat, and two Frenchbonnets, and all sorts of things; and everything else besides, was takenout. Oh, it was almost too good to believe!

Down sat the darlings on the carpet, and spread all the articles out. The boys looking on very much pleased. 

"Let's try all the dresses on, " said one of the little girls. 

No sooner said, than done! and before Miss Florence could say "JackRobinson, " off came the dress she was wearing. 

Did you ever! To be trying on a lady's dress at a party!! Who ever heardof such a thing? I never did! But the best of it was, that Miss Florencedid not seem to care a button; she smiled and simpered, and allowedherself to be tumbled over on her nose, and never squealed an atom whenpins were run into her back. But no doubt she came to the conclusionthat it was the custom of the country. At any rate, she could not helploving Lillie; and for my part, I don't know who could. 

In the middle of the dressing, supper was announced! which was joyfulnews, as all the romping and playing had made the children as hungry ashunters; and, at the sight of a great table perfectly loaded down withcakes, oranges, and mottoes, instead of gravely marching in, looking assolemn as owls--as grown people do--they skipped and danced withdelight: and such a little, laughing, joyous party was worth all thegrum old grown-up balls from now to never. I wish all the children wouldinvite me to their parties; I think it is _such_ fun! The sight of somany happy little faces takes nearly all the sad look out of my face, and quite all the sad thoughts out of my heart. 

They all ate just as much as they wanted of the nice things, and thelittle boys pulled the snapping mottoes with the girls; and verypolitely gave the motto papers, all crammed full of "love and dove, " and"bliss and kiss, " to those they liked best. 

Then they played games and danced, and were so perfectly happy, thatwhen the servants came to take them home, they one and all declared thatthey would not go, as their mammas had said they might stay till teno'clock; when, would you believe it? Lillie's mother said it was tenminutes after ten then!

Where in the world had all the time gone to, this evening? Just the veryevening, of all others, when they wanted it to last three times longerthan usual! It really was too bad; and was very unkind in the hands ofthe clock to scrabble over such delightful hours so fast. But there wasno help for it now; and they put on their coats, cloaks, caps, and hats, and, after kissing Lillie and Miss Florence, who was going to livethere, they all went home. 

And that was the end of Miss Florence's party. I mean the party that wasgiven in her honor. If you should like to see her, just come to me, andI will whisper in your ear were she lives now; for they have moved awayfrom Clinton Place. She and Lillie have become great friends, and havenever been separated since that celebrated evening, at the party, whenthe children tried on all her dresses. 

Oh! I forgot one thing. The white wigs, you know. Well, the boys pickedthem up to examine them; and, what do you think the queer old thingswere made of? Why, nothing but a sheet of white wadding. 

How they did laugh! and how surprised they were! for they looked sorespectable! just like the bushy horse hair wigs you see hanging in Mr. Isabeau the hair dresser's windows; and I, for one, the very next time Igo to a fancy party, mean to make a wig of white wadding, for threecents, for that was all Henry's and Mary's cost. 

Won't Lillie be surprised when she sees this story in print! I'm quitecertain she will laugh and kiss me, and say, Why, Aunt Fanny! _You_ werenot at the party; how _did_ you hear? Then I shall look very mischievousand say, "Ah! that's telling!"

[Illustration: Portrait of Miss Florence. ]

But there's one thing I must tell, though I am very nearly certain youhave guessed it already. Miss Florence was the very doll Lillie's motherhad bought in the summer time, and Helen, the kind sister, had madeevery one of the beautiful things in the little trunk. To show youhow handsome they all were, I have had Miss Florence's portrait taken inan everyday dress, and begged the printer to put it in this book. Don'tit make a flourish? And was not Helen a perfect darling of a sister?Don't you wish she was yours? I do. 

 * * * * *

"There! what do you think of that story?" said the little mother, as sherolled up the manuscript. 

"Oh, it is the best of all! They are all the best stories!" cried thechildren. "How we wish we knew Lillie and her beautiful doll!"

They gathered round their mother, and admired her picture, which AuntFanny had sent with the MS. ; and counted the flounces, and thought herfeet were "such darlings!" and then exclaimed again, "Oh, I wish we knewher!"

"Wouldn't you rather know Harry, the little old gentleman in the wig?"asked a voice at the door. 

The children turned quickly round, and saw Aunt Fanny standing at thedoor laughing at them. 

They fell upon her with screams of delight, and, without meaning to, immediately upset her upon the carpet; for she is a little woman, withnot a grain of bodily strength; all her strength is in her heart. Sothere she sat, so weak from laughing, that she could not help herself;while the children cried, "Oh, Aunt Fanny, we beg your pardon! did wehurt you? we only meant to love you. "

Then they all got hold of her, and began to pull her up different ways;in consequence of which, down she came again, and half a dozen of thechildren with her. 

"Oh!" she cried, "if you don't stop, you will push me through the carpetand floor, and make me fall plump on top of the cook's head in thekitchen. Come, let's all sit here, while I tell you something, andrecover my breath. "

This invitation suited them exactly. Down they all dropped, with AuntFanny in the middle. The little ones tumbled over themselves, andlighted on their heads at first; but after a good deal of laughing andnestling up close together, they were tolerably quiet. 

"Well, " said Aunt Fanny, "I always knew you were perfect monkeys forcutting capers; but I did not know till now, that you were also a familyof crabs. "

"Crabs!" cried the children laughing. 

"Yes, pulling me up, and trying to make me walk two ways at once, like acrab: very good fun for a crab, but it brought me flat, as you see, andhas nearly frightened out of my head a fine story I have heard, aboutthe consequences of an odd speech your friend Harry, the little oldgentleman in the story of Lillie, made to a poor little boy. "

"Oh dear, do tell it!" they cried; "try to get it back in your headagain; we want to hear it so much. "

"Well, will you get up and sit in chairs, and work like beavers at yourmittens, if I do?"

"Oh, yes! yes!" They sprang up, and in a surprisingly short time thecrochet needles were glancing in the gas light; while the mittens grewwonderfully. 

It was a new pleasure to hear a story directly from her lips, especiallyas she had brought two or three pictures to illustrate it, which addedgreatly to their enjoyment. 

It was rather late to begin one, but the little mother for onceconsented to let the small ones of the family sit up; and Aunt Fannybegan the wonderful story of

 THE FAIRY BENEVOLENCE. 

THE FAIRY BENEVOLENCE. 

THERE never was a more loving son than little Mark. He was only sevenyears old. Yet already he was of great use to his mother, who was a verypoor widow, as poor as could be, and she had to work, without everresting, from morning till night, to get food and clothes for herselfand her dear child. 

Oh, that terrible stitch, stitch, stitching! It must never stop; for allshe got for making a whole shirt was ten cents, and with her utmostefforts she could only finish two in a day. 

At last, what with crying and sitting up half the nights in the cold tofinish her sewing, the poor widow fell very ill. What was to be done?There was no money to pay a physician, the rent was coming due, andlittle Mark was almost crazy with grief. He sat by his mother's bedsideand bathed her head, and did all he knew how to do. 

They lived in a small hut, far away from the village, to which the poorwidow had to take her work every week, from which it was conveyed to thegreat city of New York. There the shirts were sold for so much money, that the man who got them made for the shamefully small price of tencents, rode in his carriage and lived in splendor. Ah! how I wish thiswicked man, who was starving many a poor woman in the same way, couldhave been made to feel cold, and hunger, and thirst, till he nearlydied. I think, after that he would begin to have a conscience--don'tyou?

[Illustration: "Why, what is the matter, little fellow?"]

One afternoon, while his mother was in a troubled slumber, littleMark went and sat down outside the cottage. A kind farmer had beenfelling trees, and one of these he had given to Mark's mother, promisingto send one of the farm lads that evening to saw and split it for her. Mark sat down on the log and leaned sadly upon his hand, and everylittle while he wiped away a tear that rolled down his cheek. 

Presently a tall, handsome boy walked past. It was Harry, the one whopersonated the little old gentleman in the true story of "The PartyLillie gave to Miss Florence. " His father had a country seat in theneighborhood, and Harry often took long walks in search of adventures. 

"Why, what is the matter, little fellow?" he asked. 

Mark raised his tearful eyes, and seeing a kind face, told his pitifulstory. 

"Oh, don't be down-hearted, " cried Harry. "Why, don't you know thefairies are not all dead yet? Now, there's the fairy Benevolence; justyou ask her, good and loud, to help you, and see if she won't do it;"and he patted the little boy encouragingly on the head, slipped aquarter of a dollar--all the money he had with him--in his hand, andwalked quickly away. 

Harry's father was a skilful physician, with one of the largest and mostloving hearts I ever knew; and when Harry told Mark to call upon thefairy for assistance, his idea was that the fairy this time would comein the shape of a rather stout gentleman, with the pleasantest smile andfinest set of snow-white teeth that ever were seen. He had a kind, delicate way of doing a service, which made it better to take, and didmore good than all the medicine in Mr. Hegeman's apothecary shop. 

Very soon little Mark got up and went into the cottage. His mother wasstill sleeping. It was now sunset, and the shadows began to deepen anddarken in the room. Mark sat down by the bedside, and commenced thinkingof what Harry had told him. He was a little bit of a fellow, you know, and of course would believe what such a great boy would say. So heconcluded it must be true that the fairies were still to be found; andat last his longing grew so intense that he cried aloud, "Oh, FairyBenevolence! come quickly, and make my poor mother well. "

 * * * * *

A sweet strain of music seemed to float in the air; the poor, whitewashed wall of the cottage opened in the middle, through which abeautiful lady entered, with a wreath of flowers round her head, and awand of ivory in her hand. 

"Well, my little friend, " said she in a soft voice, "what do you want ofme?"

Mark was almost speechless with astonishment and admiration; but hemanaged to say, "Oh, lady, if you are the fairy Benevolence, save mypoor mother. "

"It is not in my power, my good child. You must do it yourself. You can, if you have the courage to go where I tell you, and hunt for a certainplant. It grows on the top of a mountain, and is called 'The Plant ofLife. ' The juice of that plant will cure your mother the moment shetastes of it. "

"I will go this instant, " he cried; "but who will take care of mymother?"

"Trust her to me, my dear boy, while you are absent. She shall haveeverything she wants. "

"Oh, thank you, " said Mark; "now I will go. "

"But you must have great courage and perseverance: there is nothing ofimportance ever gained in this world without them. "

"Oh, I have lots of courage!--only tell me where I shall find theplant. "

"Well--when you get to the top of the mountain, you must call the doctorwho has charge of the plant; tell him that I sent you, and he will giveyou a sprig. "

Mark thanked the kind fairy, and kissed her hand; he then leaned overand softly kissed his mother, and then departed. 

He walked quickly, but found the mountain further off than he expected. He had hardly got a third of the way when he saw a crow caught in atrap. 

"Oh, poor crow!" exclaimed the kind little fellow, and he pressed downthe spring and released him. The crow flew off with a "caw, caw, " andthen spoke like a human being, saying, "Thank you; I will repay you. "

Mark was surprised to hear a bird talk; but he hurried on, and soonafter he saw a rooster chased by a fox. Mark caught the rooster up inhis arms, and concealed him under his coat; and the fox, staring, surprised, in every direction, ran off disappointed. As soon as he wasout of sight Mark let the rooster go, who turned and said, with agrateful and very long crow, "Thank you, Mark; I will repay you. "

"Why, they can all talk!" exclaimed Mark; "they must be fairy people, turned into birds!"

He walked on a long way, and jumped quickly on one side as he came up toa great ugly bullfrog, who, charmed by a snake, was too terrified tomove. The snake was just about to swallow it whole, when Mark seized alarge stone and threw it with all his strength into the reptile'swide-open mouth. Down went the stone into his throat, and choked himdirectly. 

The frog hopped joyfully into the ditch at the side of the road, croaking out, "Thank you, Mark; I will repay you!"

"I declare the frog said the same thing, " said Mark; "it is verystrange! But no doubt they are all fairies. "

By this time he had arrived at the foot of the mountain; but, alas!between it and him flowed a deep river, and so broad you could scarcelysee the other side. 

"Oh dear, " cried Mark, "what shall I do? I can't walk on water, andthere is neither boat or bridge. " He sat down on the bank, covered hisface with his hands, and cried aloud, "Oh, Fairy Benevolence, come andhelp me! Why did you tell me about the wonderful plant which would savemy dear mother's life, when you knew very well I could never get to themountain!"

At this instant, the rooster he had saved from the fox appeared, andsaid, "Listen to me, Mark; the fairy Benevolence cannot help you here. This mountain is beyond her dominions. But you have saved my life, and Iam not ungrateful: get on my back, and I promise you, on the faith of anhonorable rooster, I will carry you to the other side of the river. "

Little Mark was overjoyed to hear this. He gave a spring, and was in amoment astride of his comical steed, holding on by two feathers. Therooster carried him as smoothly and easily as a steamboat; but not quiteso fast, for it took twenty-one days' paddling to accomplish thejourney; but at last he was landed high and dry on the opposite bank ofthe river. 

Mark now travelled for a long time, but the mountain seemed to recede;and when at last he arrived at its foot, and began to climb, he thoughtit was growing up in the air, like Jack's beanstalk. He journeyedtwenty-one days up and up, but did not get the least bit discouraged:his great love for his mother gave him both patience and perseverance. "If I have to walk for twenty-one years, " he said aloud, "I will neverstop till I get to the top. "

"Twenty-one years, " echoed a malicious, sneering voice. "You are a veryconceited little chap! Pray, what do you want?" and out came, from acave in the mountain, a little man with one eye in the middle of hisface, and two noses side by side. 

"I wish to find the plant of life, sir, " answered Mark, with a bow. 

"Oh, you do! Pray, whom for?"

"For my dear mother, who is lying very ill at home. "

"Oh, well you look like a tolerably good boy, and I believe I willpermit you to go, under certain conditions. I am a _génie_; so, you see, I could cook and eat you, if I liked. You must reap all my wheat, thrash out the grains, grind them into flour, and knead the flour intoloaves, and bake them. You will find all the tools you want in the cave. When all is done, you can call me; but till you have finished, you shallnot stir a step. " So saying, he disappeared in a streak of blue smoke. 

Mark had listened in terror, and, when the _génie_ was out of sight, helooked all round him. On every side were immense fields of wheat. Heraised his arms, then dropped them in despair, and, covering his facewith his hands, cried out, "Oh, fairy Benevolence, come and help me!"

"Go to work, Mark, " said a soft voice close to his ear. 

Mark, upon this, took up a scythe and began to cut the wheat. This tookfive times twenty-one days; four times twenty-one days were spent inthrashing the grain; three times twenty-one days in grinding it intoflour; and twice twenty-one days in making it into loaves, and bakingthem. 

As fast as the loaves were taken out of the oven, they arrangedthemselves in even rows, like books on the shelves. 

When all was done, Mark called the _génie_, saying, "Here they are, sir, smoking hot. "

The little man appeared immediately, and counted them--five hundredthousand loaves. He tasted a bit from the first and last loaf, smackedhis lips, and said they were "prime. " Then he took a snuff box from hispocket, and said to Mark, "Here, take this, and when you return home, you will find it filled with a new kind of snuff. "

Mark thanked the _génie_, who immediately disappeared in a streak ofbrown smoke. 

He went on climbing the mountain, but had not got far, when he camesuddenly upon a giant sitting at the mouth of a cave. He seemed a jolly, good-natured old fellow, with a pipe, and a bundle of cigars, and a bagof money on a sort of table before him. 

Mark was not very much afraid of him, and, making a low bow, said, "Please, sir, tell me if I am near the place where the plant of lifegrows. "

"It is not very far off, youngster; but you don't stir a step farther, until you gather all my grapes, and make wine of them. So be in ahurry. "

Poor little Mark! He looked round and saw grape vines, with the fruitweighing them down in every direction. It took three times twenty-onedays to gather them, and twice the same time to make the wine and put itinto casks. 

When all was done, he called out, "It's all done, Mr. Giant. "

The giant tasted the wine, from the first and last cask, smacked hislips, and said, "That's what I call good! Here, monkey, take thisthistle; when you reach home you will find in it everything you wish. "In an instant, giant, casks, and all had disappeared. 

But little Mark, holding fast to his thistle, journeyed on. Soon he cameto a wide ravine. It was impossible to jump across, and so deep that thebottom could not be seen. He walked along the edge for a long time, butit grew wider and more precipitous. "Oh!" cried Mark in despair, "nosooner do I overcome one obstacle, than another rises in its place. Howshall I ever get past this dreadful ravine?" He covered his face with hishands, and murmured, "Oh, fairy Benevolence, must my mother die!"

Hardly was the last word spoken, when a wolf appeared, and asked in arough voice what he wanted in his domains. 

"Oh, Mr. Wolf, " said Mark trembling, "I seek the plant of life for mymother. "

"Well, " growled the wolf, "you must first kill all the game in myforests, and make them into game pies. Here are a bow and arrows, andhere is a fire in this hole; not a step shall you stir till you havefinished. "

Mark took the bow and arrows, and tried to shoot the birds, but he couldnot hit a single one. Just then the crow appeared, and, with a polite"caw, caw, " said, "You have saved my life: now I will show you mygratitude. " So saying, she killed all the game for him. It took fourtimes twenty-one days, and he killed five hundred thousand, of all sortsand sizes, woodcocks, partridges, quails, chip birds, robins, and catbirds, for a wolf likes all varieties. As fast as the crow killed, Markcooked, and when it was all done, he called out, "Mr. Wolf, here areyour pies with plenty of pepper and salt. "

The wolf tasted the first and last, smacked his lips, and exclaimed, "My! how nice!" He then gave Mark a stick, saying, "When you have foundthe plant of life, and want to go home, get astride of this stick; butnow get on my back. "

Mark obeyed, somewhat frightened, and holding fast to his steed's ears;the wolf went to the edge of the ravine, gave a prodigious jump; and, loand behold! Mark was safely over. 

And now, at last, the high wall of the garden appeared, in which grewthe plant of life. In the distance was a tall tower, from the window ofwhich a pretty little girl was watching him. 

Mark uttered a thankful exclamation, but alas! before he could getinside the garden, there was a deep moat to cross. He walked along theedge, hoping to come to a bridge; but found none. Still the brave, determined boy was not in the least discouraged, but said aloud, "Iwon't stir from this place until I find some way of getting across. "

Hardly had he uttered these words before he saw an enormous cat, who, giving a loud "mew, " by way of clearing her voice, asked him what hewanted there. 

Mark repeated his story, and the cat, with another mew, said, "Youcannot go across without you catch all the fish in the moat, and frythem with parsley and catsup. You will find a fishing rod and bait onthe sand. Come! begin! while I set the table. "

"Oh!" said little Mark, "how can I catch all these fish! Oh, fairyBenevolence! come to me. "

[Illustration: The Cat shot up in the air. ]

"I will help you, " said a sweet voice. He turned, and there stood besidehim the very little girl he saw looking out of the window in the tower. How she got there nobody knows; and what Mr. Nobody knows he nevertells; but the dear little maiden said, "I am called 'Little Goody. ' Theold cat shall have the fish, and you shall have the plant of life; butshe shan't stay here to tease you. "

So she clapped her hands and cried, scat!! so suddenly, that the cat, catching up the table cloth, shot up in the air like a sky rocket, screaming like forty steam whistles. 

Then Goody stamped her little foot on the ground, and up started a bullfrog, who said right away, "How do you do, Mr. Mark? I don't forget thatyou have saved my life, and I am not an ungrateful frog. I will catchthe fish for you. "

It took three times twenty-one days to catch all the fish, and twicetwenty-one days to cook them. Then Mark called the cat, saying, "Come, Mrs. Cat, come and look at your dinner. " Down came the cat, with thetable cloth still on her shoulders, tasted the first and last fish, smacked her lips, flourished her whiskers and tail, and cried, "Catipal!How many kinds you have caught! I must make a catalogue of them;" andthen, to Mark's great amazement, she took the carving knife and cut offone of her paws, and handed it to him, saying, "Take this cat's paw:when you feel ill, weary, or are growing old, touch this paw to the endof your nose with the claws spread out, and all illness and wearinesswill disappear over your left shoulder. "

Mark took it, and thanked the cat heartily. He thought he would try itthen, and sure enough, he felt the fatigue walking over his leftshoulder, just as he had been told. The little girl stood looking onwith an amiable expression, and then the cat said, "Get on my tail. "

Mark did not like to step on the cat's tail. He knew by experience thata cat is apt to claw anybody well who ventures on such a caper; but thelittle Goody laughed out, and stepping on it herself, invited Mark toher side. 

Thus encouraged, the boy got on; and then the tail began to grow, tillthe top of it reached the garden gate, to which it fastened itself; andMark and his pretty companion walked merrily over this new-fashionedbridge. 

At the entrance, Goody took an affectionate leave of him, first pointingto a little clump of bushes with emerald green leaves, saying, "Nevermind asking my father, the doctor. There is the plant of life, Mark;pluck it quickly, and off for home and your mother. "

Oh, what joy he felt! He gathered several sprigs of the precioustalisman, mounted the stick which the wolf had given him, and presto! inan instant was at the door of his mother's cottage. 

Quickly he entered, and running up to her, pressed the plant to herlips. She brightened up immediately, hugged him to her heart, andexclaimed, "Oh, how rejoiced I am to have you again! You have been gonetwo years, seven months, and twenty-one days! How you have grown, andhow rejoiced I am, my darling! my own boy!"

At this moment, the wall of the room opened, and the beautiful fairyBenevolence entered. She related to the happy mother all Mark'sadventures, and the courage, patience, and goodness which he had shown. Then she told the brave boy that he might make use of the presentsgiven to him by the little old man and the giant. 

Mark opened the snuff box, and out sprang a number of workmen about thesize of bees, who set to work with such good will and diligence, that inan hour they had built a pretty little house, and furnished itcompletely, not forgetting a book case filled with excellent books, somefine engravings, and a few paintings on the walls. Mark was especiallydelighted at this, for he wanted of all things to learn to read andwrite; and the pictures charmed him even more, for he had a naturaltaste for such things. 

Then he opened the thistle. Dear me! It was crammed full of clothes forhimself and his mother, with sheets, tablecloths, and napkins, all offine linen. Was there ever anything known like it!

While they were admiring these wonders, the busy-bee-men, who hadpopped out of the snuff box, had prepared an excellent dinner of roastbeef and pumpkin pie; and while Mark and his mother were eating it, whatshould march past the pretty bay window, which opened to the floor, buttwo fine cows, one fine horse, a great rooster, and twenty hens;turkeys, geese, and ducks; all lowing and neighing, and crowing, andcackling, and gobbling, and hissing, and quacking, enough to take yourhead off; but Mark and his mother and the fairy seemed to like it, forthey clapped their hands and laughed so loud that--

 * * * * *

"Why, Mark!" cried a cheery, laughing voice, "do you mean to sleep aweek?"

Mark started up wildly and looked about him. What did it mean? He was inhis own little bed, in his own little room!

"Where is the fairy Benevolence?" he said, looking perfectly bewildered. 

Harry shouted with laughter. "Why, Mark, are you cracked? What has madeyou sleep so soundly? Father and I came here last evening, about an hourafter dark, and found you fast asleep, sitting at your mother's bedside. 

"'Poor, tired little chap, he has watched with his mother, till he isworn out, ' said father; and he took you gently in his arms and laid youdown here. Then he sat by your mother's bedside some time, to watch theeffect of some famous medicine he gave her; and when she was in apleasant sleep, he and I went home. 

"But we came here this morning early, and found your mother much better, and you, you little monkey, still as sound as a top. 

"I've been making your mother's room more comfortable; and Betty, mamma's maid, has brought a great basket full of all sorts of nicethings for her. Come and see her; she looks real bright! she is gettingwell already. "

Little Mark had listened, with his senses getting clearer every minute, and at last he understood, with a sigh of disappointment, that hiswonderful adventures and the fairy Benevolence _were only a dream_. Hewas almost crying as he said, "Oh, Mr. Harry, if you knew what I hadbeen dreaming, you would be sorry for me. I was so sure it was all trueabout the fairy Benevolence. "

"So it is, " laughed Harry; "only the fairy has got whiskers. Comealong. "

Mark suffered Harry to lead him into the other room; and then, forgetting everything and everybody, he rushed up to his mother, andbursting into tears on her neck, sobbed out, "Oh, mother! if it onlycould have been true, you would have been cured, and we should havebeen living in such a nice house! with cows, and hens, and turkeys, andall--oh! oh--!"

His mother was sitting up in the bed, and Harry's father was mixing apleasant drink for her. Mark looked up as Harry said: "Come, Mark, don'tcry so: here is a fairy who will help you, and your mother too. " Whenthe little boy saw the genial, kindly smile of the doctor, he feltcomforted; and sitting down on the side of the bed, he told hiswonderful dream. 

It was listened to with the deepest interest; and when he had finished, the doctor patted him on the head, and said, "Never mind, my fine littlefellow! if we can't give you a grand house and a snuff box full ofservants, and a thistle which drops out of it all the clothes you want, I think we can cure your mother; and when she is well, we will find hersomething better to do than making shirts at ten cents apiece; and youshall go to school, and learn to be a great scholar; and I don't see thefirst thing to prevent your having a good chance to become, one of thesedays, the President of the United States. So hurrah!"

The kind doctor was as good as his word. The poor widow recoveredrapidly under his excellent care, which did her _heart_ more good thanher body, for it was both sweet and strange to receive so much kindness. Good Samaritans are very scarce nowadays. 

When she was well enough to go out, she found that her rent was paid, aload of wood was piled away in the wood shed, half a barrel of flour wasin the pantry, and some nice hams were hanging up. Plenty of work atgood prices soon poured in. Little Mark was sent to the district school, for now he had comfortable clothes and shoes on his poor little feet;and really, as he told his mother one happy evening--"After all, dearmother, I like my _waking_ fairy Benevolence best--whiskers and all!"

 * * * * *

A few evenings after the last story had been read, the little motherdrew from her pocket quite a thick roll of paper, saying: "Here issomething from Aunt Fanny, with a proposal that will surprise you. "

"What _can_ it be?" cried the children with eagerness. 

"She wants you to act a play. "

"_We_ act a play! Who ever heard of such a thing?"

"Yes; she has partly written, partly translated a little play, and hereis her letter with it. "

 "MY DARLING CHILDREN;

 "Don't you wish, you could get on faster than ever with your mittens? Well, here, is a plan that came into my head a few days ago, and I have been arranging it very industriously. 

 "You must go right to work to learn the parts in this little play. I do not approve of some parts of it, because a deceit was practised to bring one of the boys to a sense of his selfish and undutiful conduct. This was 'doing evil that good may come, ' and was very wrong. If your mother were to punish you by deceiving you, you would doubt her ever after; and for a child to doubt a parent is, I should think, one of the most miserable feelings in the world. 

 "With this very important exception, the little play is pretty good. And this is what your mother and I will do: When you are perfect in your parts, we will have a private rehearsal. Then we will invite about fifty of our friends to witness this elegant entertainment, for which they must pay _one pair of mittens apiece_ for the brave soldiers. We will give them one week to make them, which will be abundance of time; and I have no doubt but what they will think it very cheap pay for so much pleasure. "

A long pause took place when the letter was finished; the children wereso astonished, as well as delighted, at the new work prepared for them. 

"Well!" cried Harry at last, "what _would_ George say, if he knew themonkeys and crabs would turn actors next?"

"He would think it splendid, " answered Anna. "You know the poorsoldiers, who were made prisoners at that dreadful Bull Run battle, acted plays in their prisons, to keep themselves from dying ofhome-sickness. "

"I want to act, " said Willie. 

"I want to act, " echoed Bennie. 

"Well, " said the Little Mother, "let us see how many characters thereare. "

They all crowded round while she unrolled the paper. "Here is themother, Mrs. Langdon. You must take that, Anna; and Harry will beEdward, your son. "

"If he is the bad boy, " said Anna, laughing, "I'll give him a thrashingevery morning before breakfast. "

"That will give you an excellent appetite, " returned Harry; "for I shallrun away, and you will have to catch me, first. "

"Clara must be Mary Brown, Edward's nurse. "

"Oh, dear little fellow, " said Clara, patting Harry, "old nursey willbuy you a stick of candy. "

"Ago-o-o, " said Harry, like a little baby, which set them all laughing. 

"Johnny shall be Mr. Sherwood, the tutor, because he is naturally such asober little fellow, " said the mother; "and we will invite Gus Averill, Harry's friend, to be Morris, because he and Harry are of the same ageand height, and that will be excellent. Minnie can do Jane, the maid, very nicely; and Willie and Bennie can be Patrick and Andrew, the waiterand gardener. "

So it was all settled; and the next morning the children began to studytheir parts--the larger ones assisting the little ones--so that theylearned as quickly as the best. In the evening they repeated what theyknew to their mother, working at the same time on their mittens, andwere just as busy and happy as good and industrious children always are. 

It was really surprising how soon they became perfect, and the rehearsalwent off with complete success. Harry and Anna kept their faces verywell; and only Bennie and Willie grinned a little when they first cameon the stage, which was the back parlor. 

The company were to sit in the front parlor, and some curtains were hungup between that and the back room, and made to draw quickly aside, anddrop just as quickly. 

The invitations had been sent out, and were every one accepted. This isone of them:

 "An Entertainment for the Benefit OF THE SOLDIERS: AT THE LITTLE MOTHER'S HOUSE, _Christmas Eve, Dec. 24, 1861_. ADMISSION, ONE PAIR OF MITTENS. "

The great evening came; and the children, ready dressed for their parts, were in a tremendous flutter. Even the little wee ones were to dosomething. They were stationed at the parlor door with baskets, andcharged not to let a soul come in, unless the pair of mittens were paidinto one of the baskets. I warrant you they took very good care of that, for their eyes were as sharp as needles; and the moment the door wasopened they would all cry "Mitten money! mitten money! pay your mittenmoney!" which made the company laugh so they could hardly get the"mitten money" out of their pockets. 

After they had all arrived, and were comfortably seated, each with abeautifully written play bill, with the names of the actors upon it, theentertainment began. 

MASTER EDWARD'S TRIAL;

OR, DO AS YOU WOULD BE DONE BY. 

A LITTLE PLAY. 

CHARACTERS. 

 MRS. LANGDON. By Anna. 

 EDWARD, her son, thirteen years of age. By Harry. 

 MARY BROWN, his nurse. By Clara. 

 MORRIS, Mary's son, of the same age as Edward. By Master Augustus Averill, a friend of Harry's. 

 MR. SHERWOOD, Edward's tutor. By Johnnie. 

 JANE, his mother's maid. By Minnie. 

 PATRICK, the waiter. By Willie. 

 ANDREW, the gardener. By Bennie. 

SCENE--_A fine House in the Country. A Parlor opening into the Garden. _

SCENE I. --MRS. LANGDON _and_ MR. SHERWOOD. 

MR. SHERWOOD. No, madam; I have come to bid you adieu. It is impossible. I cannot, I will not stay here another day. 

[Illustration]

MRS. LANGDON. But, Mr. Sherwood, listen a moment!

MR. S. No! I have made up my mind! I am tired of losing my time andpains with Edward!

MRS. L. Please have a little patience. Try him once more. 

MR. S. He has already abused my patience beyond all bounds. He iswilful, ungrateful, idle, and stupid; and all the blame will fall onme, whom you have employed to educate him. 

MRS. L. Can you believe that I would blame you, who have been so kind tomy son? Remember, that when my husband died, you promised me to devoteyourself to my fatherless boy. Will you leave your work undone? He hastalents, a good heart--

MR. S. No, madam; you deceive yourself. His heart is bad; his characterunamiable; he is proud, vain, selfish, wicked. 

MRS. L. What! wicked!

MR. S. Yes, madam. Does he not treat your servants as if they wereslaves? Does not everybody hate him?

MRS. L. Oh, how severe you are! My dear son is young: he has pride, tobe sure; and that very pride once caused you to say that you would makea great and good man of him. 

MR. S. Yes, I said so; and perhaps I might have succeeded without you--

MRS. L. Without me! Why, what can you mean?

MR. S. Do you wish me to be frank with you?

MRS. L. Certainly. I shall feel obliged to you. 

MR. S. Well; it is you who spoil the effect of all my lessons. It is youwho spoil Edward. Excuse me, but I must say it. 

MRS. L. I, Mr. Sherwood! I confess I love him above all other earthlypossessions; but that is surely excusable. He is the image of a husbandtaken away from me in the first year of our marriage. You remember mygrief was so excessive that I could not nourish my poor child; and bythe advice and entreaties of my relatives and physician, I consentedthat he should be taken into the country by my humble, faithful friend, Mary Brown, who nursed him for eighteen months with her own child, whileI was sent to the West Indies, and afterward to Europe, to recover myhealth. Edward is all I have. 

MR. S. If you love him so much, send him to boarding school. 

MRS. L. Impossible! I cannot part with him. But I will put him entirelyunder your control. Only stay, and you shall govern him just as youlike. 

SCENE II. --_Enter_ PATRICK. 

MRS. L. Patrick, where is my son?

PATRICK. I don't know, ma'am. 

MRS. L. What? You don't know?

PATRICK. No, ma'am. After taking his lessons this morning, he made medress him three times. Yes, ma'am, three times! and by way of paying mefor my trouble, he hit me a blow on the side of my head, and crying, "Take that, old bog-trotter"--he ran off laughing; and five minutesafter that, when I was talking with Andrew on the edge of the hill atthe back of the house, he came suddenly up behind and upset us both. Myback is all but cracked. 

 [_Rubs his back. _

MR. S. You see how he treats your servants!

MRS. L. Well! but he did it laughing. It was only his fun, dear littlefellow! Patrick, go find him, and bring him here. 

PATRICK. And suppose, ma'am, he won't come?

MRS. L. Tell him his _mother_ wants him. 

SCENE III. --_Enter_ ANDREW. 

PATRICK (_going out, to Andrew_). Where am I to find him? Have you seenhim?

ANDREW. Seen who?

PATRICK. Master Ned. 

ANDREW. Yes, I have seen him; I see a great deal too much of him; he hasjust chased me out of the garden with a hay fork. 

PATRICK. Is he there now?

ANDREW. Oh yes; he tied an old hen fast by the leg to the fence, and isshooting at her with his bow and arrows. 

MRS. L. What a boy! how thoughtless! Patrick, go and get him. 

 [_He goes out. _

SCENE IV. --_Enter_ JANE. 

ANDREW (_twisting his hat about, and standing first on one leg, then onthe other_). Mrs. Langdon--

MRS. L. Well, Andrew, what is it?

ANDREW. I am your gardener, ma'am; am I not?

MRS. L. Yes, Andrew. 

ANDREW. I have always tried to give you satisfaction?

MRS. L. Certainly. You have been very faithful. 

ANDREW. You have fed me well, paid me well, and, what is far better, youare good and kind to me, which I like more than money, because the oneyou owe me, and the other you give me of your own free will. 

MRS. L. Well, Andrew--

ANDREW. Well, Mrs. Langdon, I am going to leave you against my owndesire. You are an excellent mistress, and I don't want to leave you, but it must be--

MRS. L. Andrew, I am surprised! Why do you wish to leave me? Have youanything to complain of? Have I done you any injustice?

ANDREW. Oh no, ma'am! You are all kindness and goodness; neither proud, scolding, nor brutal; _but everybody is not like you_. 

MRS. L. Do the other servants impose upon you?

ANDREW. Oh dear, no, ma'am! they are good and honest. 

MRS. L. What do you complain of, then?

ANDREW. Why, ma'am, since I have begun, I will go on. Every man whorespects himself, takes a pride in his work. If he is a gardener, helikes to hear people say, "There is a capital garden! Those vegetablebeds are very nicely kept!" Well, it makes me mad to see your money andmy work all wasted and destroyed. 

MRS. L. But how?

ANDREW. That's just it. I know how, and you don't. 

MRS. L. Will you tell me?

ANDREW. Well, it's Master Ned. 

MRS. L. Master Ned?

ANDREW. Yes, ma'am. He is a perfect little Satan; he keeps me runningafter him, till I am out of breath, and perfectly hoarse with talking. 

MRS. L. Why! What has he done?

ANDREW. The same he does every day: ten ground moles, fifteen chickens, twenty pigs, would do less injury in a year than he does in one day. Heupsets the planks, tears up the walks, breaks the windows of the hotbeds, tramples on the flowers, breaks down the pear trees, plays themischief in the vegetable garden, and runs off with my tools. I can'tstop him; and when I say, "Master Ned, you must not hinder me so in mywork; if you want to turn double somersets, go and do it in your dearmamma's parlor; go and plague Mr. Sherwood, or Patrick, or, stillbetter, torment Jane, and leave me to plant my cabbages. " Do you knowhow he answers? By cracking me over the shoulders with his switch, andcrying out, "Look out, old potato top, or I'll tumble you into the pond. "I might as well ask the river to run up hill. And look here, ma'am, seethis picture (_shows picture_) he drew of me, watering the garden in athunder storm, as if I ever did such a thing! or looked like that, either!

MR. S. In a short time, no one will be able to live with him. 

MRS. L. Dear me! It is nothing but his high spirits and love ofmischief! But I own you are not unreasonable, Andrew. I don't want myson to tease you, much less ill-treat you. I will forbid him, beforeyou, from going in the garden. 

ANDREW. Good! Only do that, and I will give him my finest flowers, andmy best fruits, if he will only keep away. 

MRS. L. (_sighing_). I seem to have made twenty excuses for my son inten minutes; but you shall be satisfied. 

[Illustration: The Caricature Edward drew of the Gardener. ]

JANE. Mrs. Langdon, I must also speak to you about Master Ned. 

MRS. L. Well. 

JANE. This morning he opened the cage door and let your canary fly away, and twisted poor Poll's neck because she said, "Bad boy!"

MRS. L. Oh! oh! my parrot's neck!

JANE. Yes, ma'am. 

MR. S. Now, madam, this is not thoughtlessness: it is a case of actualbadness. 

JANE. Yes, and he does something as bad every day. 

ANDREW. Why, he is worse than Lucifer!

JANE. Every morning, ma'am, he overturns your toilet table, spills thecologne water, upsets your work box, makes your finest letter paper intoboats, and puts the kitten to sleep in the crown of your best bonnet;and then, when I beg him to behave, he calls me an old cat, and abuzzard, and a red-headed crab. 

MRS. L. Why have you not told me this before?

JANE. Why, ma'am, I have; but it has always ended by his being excusedand I scolded. 

MRS. L. Stay here. You shall see if I excuse him! He might change hisclothes ten times, pull up a plant or two, pick a few flowers, or eventrouble you at your work. I don't see anything so very dreadful in allthat. But to twist my parrot's neck! Oh!--

SCENE V. --_Enter_ PATRICK. 

MRS. L. Well, Patrick--

PATRICK (_rubbing his legs and making wry faces_). He is coming, ma'am--

MRS. L. What's the matter?

PATRICK. Master Ned has been breaking a stick over my legs. 

MRS. L. (_very angry_). The child's a demon! I am outrageous! I amfurious!

MR. S. Control yourself, madam! do not fly so suddenly from extremeindulgence to severity; do not correct a child when you are in apassion. 

MRS. L. You may be right, sir, but I shall punish him as he deserves. 

ANDREW. Please don't beat him, ma'am. Here he comes. 

SCENE VI. --_Enter_ EDWARD, _who runs up to his mother, and is about tokiss her_. 

EDWARD. Were you asking for me, mamma? dear, pretty mamma!

MRS. L. Stand back, sir! I don't kiss a bad boy!

EDWARD. A bad boy! Why, mamma, what have I done?

MRS. L. Do you dare to pretend that you do not know? Look at Andrew, Patrick, and Jane!

EDWARD. I see them. Have they been complaining of me?

MRS. L. Yes, and I am astonished at what they tell me. 

EDWARD. The mean things! Mamma, they--

MRS. L. Take care, sir! Don't add lying to your other crimes. 

EDWARD (_looking angry_). But what do they say I have done? You scamp ofa turnip top, Andrew! is it you who are trying to rob me of my mother'slove? Such a good boy as I am, too!

ANDREW. You a good boy! about as much as the old gray donkey is a robinredbreast. No! you are a nuisance, and ought to live up in the air in aballoon by yourself. You have ruined my garden; and whenever I beg youto stop, you answer me with your switch over my legs. 

EDWARD. Oh, mamma, that is too cruel! I only wish to make you abouquet, when Andrew comes up, yelling like a tiger, "Don't touch thoseviolets! Let that pansy alone! Stop! you shan't take a rose!" Well, whatcan I do? So I dug up a little plot, pulling out a few vegetables, so asto raise some flowers for you myself. Then Andrew screams out, "Whathave you done? You have pulled out all my onions!" Then I take anotherplace, and old Sourcrout bawls, "The beets are planted there. " I declareit's too bad! I wish to cultivate the earth, because Mr. Sherwood saysthe most respectable men in the world are farmers; and Andrew, mad asfury, comes and drives me away. Suppose I do spoil some of his stupidcabbages; if I could present you with a flower raised by my own hand, itwould be worth all his cabbage heads, and his own too. 

MRS. L. The darling! How he loves me! Andrew, you are a brute!

ANDREW. Thank you, ma'am. That's what I call justice. 

MRS. L. My dear son was only seeking to gratify me, and you did verywrong to hinder him. Dear child! he was willing to work like a farmer toplease me. 

ANDREW. I'm dumb! If you wish it, he may scratch up the whole garden, and empty it into the duck pond; he may break down fifty trees a day; hemay have a mass meeting of the dogs, pigs, chickens, ducks, turkeys, andthe old gray donkey, in the best flower beds; and end by inviting FarmerGreen's bull Sampson to dance a hornpipe through the glass into theconservatory. Nothing now will astonish me. 

MRS. L. That will do. My son, I forgive your capers in the garden, but Ihave a more serious charge against you. How can you excuse yourself forletting my canary fly away? and above all, why did you twist my poorPoll's neck?

EDWARD. Well, mamma, you would have done the same. I did open the doorof the canary's cage. He was poking his poor little bill through thebars, and I was so sorry for him! I thought he wanted to go to hismother, who, perhaps, might be perched up in the tree opposite, and so Igave him his liberty. Mr. Sherwood has often told me that kindness toanimals is one of the finest virtues. 

MRS. L. Oh! was twisting my parrot's neck another proof of yourkindness? What had the poor bird done to you?

EDWARD. Nothing to me, mamma; but the wicked little squinting thing hadbitten Jane's finger, when she was kindly giving him some sugar; and shecried, and seeing the tears rolling down her cheeks, I got very angry, quite in a rage. I am very sorry, but I did not think that Jane wouldhave been the one to accuse _me_. 

MRS. L. There, Jane! you are an ungrateful creature! You have tried topoison my mind against my son!

JANE. But, Mrs. Langdon--

MRS. L. Be silent! Your affair is settled. But, Edward, when Patrickcame to call you, why did you break a stick over his legs?

EDWARD. It was very wrong in me, mamma; but I had just gathered somesplendid roses for you: they were on the ground, and the clumsy fellowtrampled upon them without seeing them. It put me in such a passion, Idid whack him once or twice. I beg his pardon, mamma. 

MRS. L. He should ask yours, you dear boy! I order you all to apologizeto my son, or I shall discharge you. You first, Jane. My son would notfor twenty gardens, or poll parrots, do a mean thing or tell a lie; heshall be respected and obeyed as I am; and those who don't like it canleave. 

ANDREW (_ironically_). I beg your pardon, Master Edward, for the goodswitching you so kindly gave me; I beg your pardon for the damage youdid to the garden; you will oblige me by continuing to tumble everythingtopsy-turvy, and break all the rest. 

PATRICK. Forgive me, Master Edward, for all the pretty little capers youcut up. 

EDWARD. Oh, certainly. Mamma, they are good sort of people, after all;and I hope you will excuse their coming to complain of me. 

MRS. L. To oblige you, my dear son, I will. You see, all of you, howamiable he is. And now remember, the very first complaint he makes of_you_, I will discharge you. Leave the room. 

ANDREW _to_ PATRICK (_going out_). Here's a pretty how-d'ye-do! He hasmade his mother believe that black is white. 

SCENE VII. 

MRS. L. You see, my son, though I do not wish the servants to bedisrespectful to you, I require you to treat them with kindness. Theyare human beings like you. 

EDWARD (_contemptuously_). Like _me_! I should think not. 

MR. S. Yes, sir! They are not rich, to be sure, or born of a highfamily, nor is it likely that their heads will ever burst with theknowledge a fine, thorough education gives; but they are capable ofevery good and noble quality of the heart. Do you understand?

EDWARD. Yes, Mr. Sherwood. 

MRS. L. Try to make everybody love you. 

EDWARD. Dear mamma, I don't care for any love but yours. 

MR. S. But you must care for the respect and friendship of others;which, as Addison says, "improves happiness and abates misery, bydoubling our joys and dividing our griefs. "

EDWARD (_sneeringly_). He talks like a book, don't he, mamma?

MRS. L. He does, indeed; and if you love me, you will profit by hisadvice and lessons. Perhaps you owe more to him than to me. Love him, and be grateful to him, for his constant endeavor to cultivate yourvirtues and talents. 

EDWARD. Love him--I cannot promise that. 

MRS. L. Why not, my son?

EDWARD. Because I have given all my love to my dear mamma (_kissingher_). 

MRS. L. You darling! kiss me again! Ah, Mr. Sherwood! can you blame meif I almost adore him?

 [_Exit_ MRS. L. 

SCENE VIII. 

MR. SHERWOOD. You are ungrateful, to vex and grieve a mother who lovesyou so dearly. If you loved her as much, you would obey her if she onlyheld up her little finger; but it seems to me a cat-o'nine-tailsflourished before you might have a very good effect. 

EDWARD. I am sorry that--

MR. S. Did you take your writing lesson to-day?

EDWARD. No, sir. I don't like writing lessons. They are a perfectplague. They give me the cramp in my thumb, and kinks in my fingers. 

MR. S. Essence of switch on the fingers is good for taking out kinks. Has your dancing master been here?

EDWARD. Oh yes! I love him dearly, he is so funny! He tells me comicalstories, and can imitate everybody in the house. Andrew's lumbering, poking walk, Jane's prinking ways, and even you, with your long dismalface, your eyes staring at a book like a cat looking at a fish, and yoursolemn walk, oh, it would make you die a-laughing! His lessons alwaysseem too short. 

MR. S. What is that sticking out of your pocket?

EDWARD (_pulling it out and looking at it_). Oh! ha, ha! It's a portraitI drew of you, as you look when I don't know my lessons. 

[Illustration]

MR. S. Give it to me. (_He takes the caricature and looks at it, butshows no anger. _) So you prefer to spend your time in an unamiable, contemptible occupation like this, to acquiring useful lessons. 

EDWARD (_looking a little ashamed_). Well, I like to be amused. It wasonly a little fun. It was not meant for you to see. 

MR. S. Will you give me an account of your reading to-day?

EDWARD. I--I--have not been reading, sir. 

MR. S. Not reading? Why?

EDWARD. Because the book you gave me had so many long, stupid words, that I couldn't understand what it was all about, so I just pitched itout of the window. 

MR. S. You call a book stupid which has such a thrilling account of thebombardment of Vera Cruz, with a fine engraving showing you the greatGeneral Scott and his brave soldiers? I wonder at you! You have a head, and so has a drum; both empty. 

[Illustration: Bombardment of Vera Cruz. ]

SCENE IX. --_Enter_ MRS. LANGDON, MARY BROWN, _and_ MORRIS, _her son_. 

MRS. L. See, my son, I bring you one of your best friends--your dear oldnurse Mary, and her son, who is almost your brother. 

MARY (_running up to kiss him_). How do you do, dear, dear child! howhandsome you are! Here's your old play-fellow, Morris; don't youremember him?

EDWARD. No!

MORRIS (_who has a nice little cream cheese wrapped up in a napkin_). Iremember you. You're my dear brother Edward. See--I have brought youthis cream cheese; my mother made it on purpose for you--take it--don'tyou know me now?

EDWARD (_who recoils, and takes twenty-five cents out of his pocket_). Here, take this, Morris. 

MORRIS (_coloring indignantly_). I did not ask you for money; I don'twant it; I am not a beggar. 

EDWARD. But I ought to pay you for the cheese. 

MORRIS (_with emotion_). Do you think I brought it to you for money? Iwould rather have thrown it out of the window. 

MRS. L. Never mind, Morris, take the cheese home to your father; it willdo him good to eat it. 

MORRIS (_taking it and giving it to his mother, and saying, in adisappointed tone_), Well, take it, mother. 

MARY (_looking lovingly at Edward_). How handsome he is! how he hasgrown! My heart warms to him. 

MRS. L. Well, Edward, your kind nurse must have some lunch--go and ordersome. 

EDWARD (_scornfully_). Isn't Patrick here?

MARY. No, my son. I asked him to give my old pony some water. 

MRS. L. Go, my son, go; it will gratify me. 

EDWARD. Oh! then I will fly. What shall I order?

MRS. L. The very best in the house. 

MORRIS (_running after him_). Wait, Edward, I will go with you, and helpyou give the order. I know what my mother likes. 

SCENE X. 

MRS. L. Well, dear nurse, how do you get on since you have moved intoyour new cottage?

MARY. Oh! capitally, ma'am. 

MRS. L. And your husband, big Peter--is he pleased and contented?

MARY. He is so, ma'am, as happy as a king! Daisy--that's our cow, ma'am--has just given us a beautiful calf; we have fifty chickens, twenty geese, and a good old pony who carries our vegetables to therailroad station for the New York market. I thank God, and you who havebeen so good to us. 

MRS. L. Is big Peter industrious, and does he bring up Morris in theright way?

MARY. Oh! thank God again for all his mercies. I am not proud; but myboy is the best boy in the whole neighborhood, and so smart! he reads inthe biggest books; he does the most terrible long sums, almost like aflash of lightning--his schoolmaster is astonished at his quickness; hishead is just as full as it can hold of learning, and his heart is justas full of love for his father and mother. (_She falters, and the tearsrush into her eyes_). 

MRS. L. (_very kindly_). I am delighted to hear this; he will always bea comfort to you if he is so good now. But here he comes--he looksdistressed. 

SCENE XI. --MRS. LANGDON, MARY, MR. SHERWOOD, _and_ MORRIS. 

MORRIS (_crying and rubbing his eyes_). Oh, dear!

MARY. What's the matter, my son? Have you had a tumble?

MORRIS. No, mother; never mind. 

MARY. But tell me, what has happened?

MORRIS (_trying to lead her away_). Come, mother, let us go away. 

MRS. L. Where Is Edward?

MORRIS. In the garden, ma'am. Come, mother, come; I want to go home. Idon't like this place. 

MRS. L. No doubt Edward is picking a basket of fruit for you. 

MORRIS. I rather think not. Mother, I beg you to let us leave at once. Ihave my reasons. 

MR. S. And I can guess them. Edward has been beating you--has he not?

MRS. L. Impossible!!!

MORRIS. Very possible, indeed. In fact, quite certain. 

MRS. L. Dear me! did he hurt you much?

MORRIS. It is not the pain. I could have beaten him twice as hard if Iwanted to. What hurts me most is what he said. 

MRS. L. And, pray, what did he say?

MORRIS. Well, ma'am, when I wanted to hug old Beppo, he told me to takemy paws from the dog's neck; that I was a country bumpkin, and a bigclumsy booby, and no brother of his; and the sooner I skedaddled homethe better he should be pleased. 

MARY. Oh! the unnatural, wicked boy! You are right, my son; we will gohome, where we are not despised. Good bye, Mrs. Langdon; Master Edwardis your son; but I no longer think of him as the child I fed at mybreast, and loved nearly as my own. He has struck his brother! Come, myson, you are not his equal; therefore you cannot be his friend. 

MRS. L. But listen one moment, Mary. 

MARY. No, ma'am; we will not stay where we have been so humbled; we areplain country folks, but we have hearts and feelings, and your son hasneither. God will never bless him. Such pride has no place in heaven. 

MRS. L. You are right, Mary; but perhaps Morris offended him. You havenot heard both sides. 

MORRIS. Yes, I offended him. I put my arms round his neck to hug him, when he threw me off; and when I said that that was not the way to treata brother, he struck me!--more than once, too!--and said those mean, cruel things. 

MARY. Oh, the little villain!

MR. S. Are your eyes still blinded, Mrs. Langdon? Can you still findexcuses? Will you praise his good heart when he dares to ill-treat andstrike his nurse's son?

MRS. L. (_weeping_). No, I cannot excuse him; his ingratitude and wickedconduct have nearly broken my heart. What shall I do?

MR. S. I have just thought of a plan, madam. It is a desperate remedy;but I know of nothing else in the wide world that will cure him. 

MRS. L. Tell me--what is it?

MR. S. (_aside_). Nurse, send away your son for a few moments; he mustnot know what I am about to say. 

MARY. I understand, sir. Morris, go to the stable, and see if oldWhitenose has eaten all he wants. 

MORRIS (_jumping up with animation_). I am to put him to the wagon, am Inot? and then we are to go home. Oh, I am so very glad. 

 [_Exit. _

SCENE XII. 

MRS. L. We are alone now, Mr. Sherwood. Ah, if you knew how much I lovedmy son, and how unhappy I am!

MARY. I love him, too, in spite of his bad heart. 

MRS. L. Well, what are you going to propose? To have him beaten blackand blue? I am ready for anything. 

MR. S. Don't be alarmed, madam. It is his heart that is to be put to thetrial; reverses and adversity often soften the heart; when one hassuffered, he knows better how to pity the deprivations and sufferings ofothers. Your son has never been contradicted; he may be unkind and cruelsometimes from thoughtlessness and ignorance. Now, let us put his heartto a severe trial. Let us pretend that he is Mary's son, and Morris isreally your son. Push the experiment so far as to send him to live withher, until he is thoroughly humbled, and his faults disappear. 

MARY (_starting up_). Oh, no! no! Your trial may all be very fine, but Iwill not lend myself to it. No, sir. We are not rich, but we have alwaysbeen honest, and I will not have anybody suppose for a moment that Icould have committed such a dishonorable, such an unnatural act. Saythat Morris is not my son? If I should join in such a trick, my husbandwould hate and despise me, and rightly too. 

MR. S. But, nurse, you forget. It is only supposing. 

MARY. Suppose as much as you please, sir; even the suspicion of such aplot would blacken my name forever. Oh! would any woman deny her ownchild?

MRS. L. Listen to me, Mary. I love Edward as much as you do Morris. Doyou think I would abandon my child or disgrace you? Far from despisingyou, I shall take care to let everybody know the sacrifice you aremaking for my son's sake; and every one will praise you for helping me, and believe that love for Edward has alone induced you to consent tothis plan. If he should grow up to be a man with such selfish, cruelways, it will break my heart. I should be in my grave before many years, killed by the misconduct of my only child. I have but one objection towhat we are about to do. We shall practise a deception. 

MARY (_weeping_). Oh, ma'am, and my son, my poor little Morris, he toomust be deceived; he cannot be in the secret. 

MRS. L. I will try to make him happy. I will treat him like my ownchild. Remember it is only for a week or two, perhaps only for a day ortwo. 

MARY. Oh yes, ma'am, I know you will be kind; but suppose in that week, your fine house, your gay clothes, your grand dinners and suppers shouldturn his head, and ruin his loving heart for his parents. If he shouldreturn to us, despising our humble life, --oh! I can't bear it! My childwould be worse than lost to me!

MRS. L. Fear nothing, Mary. Morris is an excellent boy, and not soeasily spoiled. I promise you, that I will so arrange matters, that heshall be only too glad to come back to you, and be Morris again. 

MARY (_coming to Mrs. L. And taking her hand_). Are you sure? will yousolemnly promise this?

MRS. L. (_raising her hand_). I solemnly promise. 

MARY (_still weeping_). Well, then, try your trick; but, oh! do not letit last too long. 

MRS. L. (_rings the bell; the servant appears_). Call Master Edward andMorris here. 

 _Enter_ EDWARD _and_ MORRIS. 

EDWARD. Dear mamma, do you want me?

MRS. L. I told you to order some luncheon for your nurse, and yourbrother. 

EDWARD. Well, I thought when they were ready, they could go into thekitchen. 

MRS. L. (_covering her face_). Oh! Edward--

EDWARD. What is the matter, dear mamma?

MRS. L. (_aside_). Oh! how shall I say it! (_Aloud. _) Do not give methat sweet title any more. 

EDWARD. What? Mamma, what do you mean?

MRS. L. Edward, I am about to tell you something that will pierce yourheart; turn your dear face away from me. You--_you are not my child_. 

EDWARD (_turning deadly pale_). Not your child?

MR. S. No, sir; and perhaps what seems to be so great a misfortune nowcoming upon you, may prove a blessing in disguise. 

EDWARD (_clasping his hands convulsively together_). Not your child?

MR. S. Yes; through love and ambition for their own son, Mary and herhusband were weak enough to change you for the son of Mr. Langdon; tochange the name and dress of the two infants, was all that wasnecessary. 

MRS. L. And now, Mary, repenting of this, has made me a confession. Morris is my son and you are hers. 

EDWARD. You are _not_ my mother?

MRS. L. No, Edward; but take heart. I shall still love you and takecare of you. Come, Morris; come, my real son, do not cry; come to me. 

MORRIS (_rushing into Mary's arms_). Oh, no! no! Mr. Edward has beenyour son for so long; keep him, keep him. I cannot leave my mother, Imust go home with her (_bursting into tears_). 

MARY. But, Morris, he is my son. 

MORRIS. Oh no, dear mother, he will never love you as I do! do not driveme from you! do not turn your face away! kiss me, mother, and tell meyou will take me away with you. Oh, I see! I must believe it (_wringinghis hands with grief_). 

MRS. L. Morris, you are ungrateful! Do you not see what a splendidchange this is for you?

MORRIS. Please excuse me, ma'am; I honor and respect you; but my mother, who nursed me, and has taken care of me all these years, I _love_ her. Edward is much handsomer, and far more genteel than I. Oh! keep him andlet me go with my mother!--(_clasps his hands and kneels, while largetears roll down his cheeks_). 

MRS. L. I order you to come with me. I _will_ have it!

MR. S. Remember, she is your mother. 

MORRIS (_weeping bitterly_). Oh, how miserable I am!

 [_They go out. _

EDWARD (_who now thinks himself_ MORRIS, _remains_). 

MARY. Well, Morris; that's your name now, you know--what's the matter?are you sorry to have me for a mother? I shall have to sleep with oneeye open, to keep you out of mischief; but if you are good and workhard, though I can't give you such fine clothes, I will love you as muchas Mrs. Langdon did. 

EDWARD (_his lips quivering_). Oh! she is no longer my mother!

MARY. Well, am I not as good? I don't live in such a fine house, crammedfull of gimcracks; but I've got a dictionary that you can study in, andbig Peter, your father, shall hang a great switch over the mantelpiece, to remind you that he won't stand any nonsense, or idleness, from you. Dear me! how glad he will be to see you! Come, run with a hop, skip, andjump, to the stable, and harness up old Whitenose: it's high time wewere off. 

EDWARD (_sighing_). Yes, mother. 

MARY. But first bid Mr. Sherwood good-by, and the rest. Thank them allfor their kindness to you; wait here a moment, till I come back. 

 [_Exit. _

MR. S. Well, Edward, or Morris I should say, you see that nothing issure in this world: and I cannot but think that this reverse will do yougood. You treated every one except your mother--as you supposed Mrs. Langdon was--with harshness, insult, and insolence: perhaps now you willlearn, in the very strongest manner, the exact meaning and intention ofthe Golden Rule. 

EDWARD. Oh, how unhappy I am! The very servants are more fortunate! Theyat least can live with Mrs. Langdon. 

MR. S. You despised and insulted your own mother; you struck yourbrother; suppose he in return should--

EDWARD (_weeping_). Oh stop, I beg, Mr. Sherwood!

MR. S. You weep because you are only the son of Mary and big Peter, apoor country farmer. 

EDWARD. Oh no, sir! if they are my father and mother, I will try torespect them, but to leave Mrs. Langdon--to be no longer her son--thatis what is driving me to despair. Oh, I shall die! I shall die!

MR. S. Do not be so distressed. Mrs. Langdon will still be very kind toyou. She will love you still. 

EDWARD. If she will only think of me sometimes. Will you speak, sir, ofme to her, after I am gone? Will you tell her that my greatest grief, isleaving her; that I shall never, never, never forget her? Will you dothis, dear Mr. Sherwood?

MR. S. (_with agitation_). Yes, my dear boy, I will. 

EDWARD. And will you forgive me for having profited so little by yourlessons; and being so often disrespectful? Please forgive me, sir. 

MR. S. Willingly, my child. This is a great change of fortune. An hourago, you were rich and well born, now you are the son of a poor farmer. Try to do your part well in this altered sphere; be gentle and good, andGod will not desert you. Good-by. 

 [_Exit. _

 _Enter_ JANE, _with a coarse cap and jacket_, PATRICK _following_. 

JANE (_ironically_). How do you do, Mr. Morris?

PATRICK. (_ditto_). Your humble servant, Mr. Morris. 

JANE. Will Mr. Morris allow me to show him his new dress?

PATRICK. Will Mr. Morris give me leave to help him on with his jacket?

JANE. Dear me! it fits him to a hair! and the cap too! My! I'm athinking you won't be so proud after this; you can't treat _me_ any moreas a servant. 

PATRICK. Nor me! You won't beat a double tattoo about my shins again ina hurry!

JANE. I shan't be snubbed all day long, and told that my nose is as redas my hair, and my eyes as green as my understanding. What a comfort!

PATRICK (_cutting a caper in the air, and singing_). Hi fol-de-rol! howhappy we shall all be! tide-o riddle rol-de-da!

JANE. What are you crying for, Master Morris?

EDWARD. Oh, how you treat me!

JANE. Why! Is not that the way to read the proverb? "As you have done toothers, they shall do to you. "

PATRICK. You don't seem to see it. We are only giving tit for tat. 

EDWARD. You are right, I deserve it all! Jane, Patrick, forgive me! Ibeg your pardon. 

JANE (_looking very sorry_). Poor child! poor little fellow!

PATRICK. After all, he has not a bad heart!

EDWARD. Please forget all the injuries I have done to you, and try notto hate me when I am gone. Will you, dear Jane? will you Patrick?

JANE (_bursting out crying_). Oh! oh! what a pity, what a pity!

PATRICK. It is dreadful!

JANE. He will have to plough and hoe in the ground!

PATRICK. And kill pigs, and drive the cow!

JANE. Why couldn't that stupid Mary hold her tongue after keeping thesecret thirteen years, and settle down for life with that clumsy Edward. I hate the sight of him! I don't believe, but what it is all a trick sheis trying to play off. 

PATRICK. I'll bet my head, it is!

EDWARD. Don't insult my mother. She is poor, but honest. I cannot hearyou accusing her. 

 _Enter_ ANDREW _with a basket, shovel, and rake. _

ANDREW (_whistles_). Wheugh! Is it true then, that Master Edward is notMrs. Langdon's son?

JANE. Yes, indeed! Just look at the poor boy; we are so sorry for him!and though he has teazed us a great deal, we feel for him with all ourhearts. 

ANDREW. Just so with me. He has put me in a rage no end of times, andwhen I was scolded before you all, this morning, I was as mad as a waspwith the toothache. But since I have heard of his great misfortune, I amsure, I would not bear him malice for the world; so I have come to makefriends with him, before he goes away. 

EDWARD. Dear Andrew! (_He weeps again. _)

ANDREW. Here! I have brought you a basket and some tools; they will beuseful to you in your new situation; and here is my silver watch, itgoes splendidly! but you must not wear it every day, you must save itfor Sundays. I give it to you, that you may remember me, and say, "Myfriend Andrew gave me this watch, because he loved me. "

EDWARD. How kind you are to me, who have deserved it so little! Prayforgive me, and forget my bad conduct. 

ANDREW. I forgive you with all my heart! and now that you are introuble, I remember nothing. I will come to see you next Sunday evening, and bring you some nice little present. Keep up a stout heart, and astiff upper lip; you are not used to work, and at first it will comevery hard; ploughing is not quite so easy as playing cat's cradle, andbackgammon in the parlor. You will have no dancing, unless a mad bullgallops after you, when, no doubt, you will practise double quickstep toperfection. All the gay pleasures you have now, will be lost to you; butthere is one happiness, worth all the rest, which you can keep if youplease; and _that is a clear conscience_. Serve God, love your parents, and work faithfully, and you will be sure to possess this greatblessing, and consequently be happy. 

EDWARD. Thank you, Andrew, for such good advice; but will you all loveme when I am gone?

ALL THREE AT ONCE. Yes, indeed! Always!

EDWARD. Will you then promise, sometimes to speak kindly of me to Mrs. Langdon?

ANDREW. We promise. 

JANE (_crying bitterly_). Oh! oh! this is too much. I can't bear it. Good-by, dear Master Morris. 

EDWARD. Won't you kiss me, Jane?

JANE. Oh, yes, with all my heart. (_Kisses him. _)

PATRICK. Please shake hands with me, Master Morris. 

ANDREW. And me too. 

EDWARD. Good-by, good-by; all my dear friends!

 _Enter the real_ MORRIS. 

EDWARD (_who has turned away and don't see him_). And this is the dressI am always to wear. I am Morris, son of Mary and big Peter! Oh, I canbear that; but to leave Mrs. Langdon--to be no longer her son--to haveno right to her love--oh! oh! I shall die!

MORRIS. Good morning, brother. 

EDWARD (_without turning round_). Good morning, Master Edward. 

MORRIS. You seem angry with me; but you are wrong. If I have injuredyou, it is not my fault. _I_ did not do it of my own will; and yet Ihave come to beg your pardon. 

EDWARD. It is not your fault. 

MORRIS. But--don't you love me?

EDWARD. Why do you ask, sir?

MORRIS. I call you "_brother_, " and you call me "_sir_. "

EDWARD (_with effort_). Well, if you wish it, I will call you _brother_. 

MORRIS. And love me like one?

EDWARD. Yes. 

MORRIS. Well, now, I'm going to try you. Here, do you see these things?I found them in your pockets. This gold watch, this pocket book full ofmoney, this yellow pin, with a little ball in the middle of it, whichlooks like glass--I really thought it was glass, and the pin copper, butthey say it is a diamond set in gold, and worth more than all the rest. Then I asked Mrs. Langdon if she had given me all these grand things todo just as I pleased with. She said, "Certainly"--and I have come asfast as ever I could with them to you!--take them!

EDWARD. Thank you. I'd rather you kept them. 

MORRIS. Do you refuse your brother?

EDWARD. What could I do with such finery--they do not suit my humblestation?

MORRIS. But it is not for yourself that I give them. 

EDWARD. I don't understand you. 

MORRIS. They are for your poor mother; for your father who works sohard, and is so patient and good. To scrape together money enough to payhis rent troubles him dreadfully; and so the very first time thelandlord comes, give him all these gimcracks, on condition that heleaves him alone for the rest of the year. 

EDWARD. Yes, I will do this; give them to me. 

MORRIS. Here they are. Will you promise me one thing more?

EDWARD. What is it?

MORRIS. It is that you will love your father and mother dearly. 

EDWARD. Yes, Morris; I will try. 

MORRIS. And tell them every day that I shall never forget them; and whenI am a man, and you are too, you shall all come and live with me, andyou and I will have everything together, just like two brothers--willyou?

EDWARD. Yes, brother--(_Morris clasps him in his arms, and says_)--"Oh, how happy you have made me!"

 _Enter_ MRS. LANGDON, MR. SHERWOOD, _and_ MARY. 

MRS. L. Ah! that is a pleasant sight. I am delighted to see you suchgood friends. I wish you to love each other always. 

MORRIS. I promise you we will, ma'am--I mean, mother. We are friends andbrothers from this day. 

MRS. L. (_to_ EDWARD). All is ready for your departure, Morris. I wouldlike to have kept you for some days; but Mary says she must take youwith her. Be a good boy; respect and love your father and mother, andhelp them in their work all you can. Remember me; and, be sure, I shallnever forget you. 

EDWARD(_throwing himself at her feet, and weeping convulsively_). Mamma--madam, grant me one favor, I implore. Oh! my heart is breaking. 

MRS. L. (_with emotion_). What is it?

EDWARD. I cannot leave you. Keep me here, for pity's sake! I will beyour servant. I will wait on your son. I will obey him. I will obeyevery one in the house. Let me stay!--oh! let me stay!

MORRIS (_kneeling by him_). Oh! since you are my mother, be his mother, too! do not send him away. See! we ask it on our knees! You will havetwo sons, and he shall be the best. 

MRS. L. (_aside to_ MR. SHERWOOD). This is killing me. I cannot bearit! I must speak! (_She covers her face, sobbing_). 

 _Enter_ ANDREW, JANE, _and_ PATRICK. 

ANDREW. Mrs. Langdon, we come to make you an offer, which we beg you toagree to, or else we shall all three feel obliged to quit your service. 

MRS. L. Well--what is it, Andrew?

ANDREW. Well, ma'am, it is that you will keep this poor little fellow, Morris, with you, and give us leave to treat him the same as MasterEdward; and as we do not want any one to lose by this, we offer to havea third of our wages taken off, which you will please give to Mary andbig Peter every month, to make up to them for the loss of their son'sservices. 

EDWARD. Oh, my kind, generous friends! never will I forget this proof ofyour love!

MRS. L. But only this morning you all three made terrible complaintsabout him. 

ANDREW. But we don't bear malice, and he is so unhappy! We haveforgotten all he did to annoy us. Please, ma'am, to keep him. 

EDWARD. No, Andrew; you have taught me what is _my_ duty. I belong to myfather and mother, and I am ashamed that in my misery I forgot it. Thepoorer they are, the less I ought to leave them. Good-by, all myfriends: love and protect Mrs. Langdon and my brother, and forget mymany faults if you can. Good-by, Edward. Come, mother, let us go. 

MRS. L. (_weeping_). Mr. Sherwood!

MR. S. Yes, it is enough. Embrace your son! he has proved himself worthyof you!

MRS. L. (_throwing her arms around him_). _My son, my darling!_

EDWARD (_amazed_). You, my mother! You!!

MRS. L. Yes, my son. This was only a plot to try you. Your heart hasproved good and noble! and I am the happiest of mothers. 

MORRIS (_rushing to Mary's arms_). And I--am I your son still?

MARY (_kissing him_). Yes, my boy; my own boy!

MORRIS. Oh, be joyful! how happy I am!

EDWARD. But, Morris, don't you want to stay with me?

MORRIS. No! no! I have been too much afraid already that I should neversee my dear father again. What a good hug I mean to give him!

EDWARD (_giving_ MORRIS _the watch, &c. _) Here, take all thesethings--now I give them to you. 

MORRIS. Oh no, you must keep them. 

EDWARD. But what about that cross old landlord?

MORRIS (_laughing_). You are right. Give them to me. 

MARY. Is it for the rent? Why, big Peter will dance a jig on the kitchentable for joy. 

MR. SHERWOOD. Good mothers, love your children with all your hearts, butdo not spoil them. Remember, it is education and pious training whichdevelop in their hearts the seeds of good or evil; and you, Edward, donot forget the lesson you have received, of "DOING UNTO OTHERS AS YOUWOULD THAT OTHERS SHOULD DO UNTO YOU. "

THE LITTLE PLAY MITTENS. 

THE play was finished amidst a tremendous clapping of hands, and thecurtain fell. 

Then the company began to talk just as fast as they could. They wereastonished at seeing the play so well acted, and laughed over and overagain when they recalled the comical little gardener and waiter, whowore such funny dresses, and knew their parts so perfectly, and actedwith such serious faces. Minnie came in, too, for her share ofpraise, --indeed, every one was excellent; and when the children madetheir appearance a few minutes afterward--still dressed as they were inthe play--they were received with more clapping of hands, and this timewith plenty of kisses too. 

After that, some ice cream and cake were handed round; and then thecompany went home perfectly delighted, resolving in their own minds toget up something themselves in behalf of the soldiers. So certain is it, that one good action will prompt another. 

The Little Mother hastily counted over the nice warm mittens with theirthumbs and fingers sticking out in every direction, while the childrenlooked on with breathless interest. 

"Fifty-seven pairs, " said the Little Mother. 

"Fifty-seven pairs!" echoed the children, with a shout that made thewindows rattle. "Oh, goody! goody! goody! how glad we are!" and theydanced round the pile which lay on the floor in perfect ecstasies. 

"How glad brother George will be!" said Willie. 

"Oh, if he could only have been here to-night, " said Clara, and herloving eyes filled with tears. 

The Little Mother's lip trembled. She knew that her soldier boy, sooneror later, must know what a battle was; and a prayer rose in her heartthat a Protecting Power would guard him from harm, and return him safeto her loving arms. 

The children kissed her softly, and tenderly, and went quietly off tobed, almost forgetting that Santa Claus was to come that very night, andfill their stockings. But _he_ did not forget; for when the brightmorning sun of the clear, cold Christmas day, peeped in at the nurserywindows, he certainly must have thought that Santa Claus had consideredthese children as pinks and patterns of perfection; for there were noless than three new dolls; a grocery store for them to shop at; twoelegant workboxes with "Anna" engraved on the lid of one, and "Clara" onthe other; a beautiful writing desk, filled with nice pens, ink, andpaper, for Johnny; a mahogany tool chest, completely filled, for Harry;an entire set of Cousin Alice's excellent and interesting books, forBennie and Willie; a most charming little book, called "Our LittleGirls, " for Lillie; and two others by the same author, who is aminister's daughter, as good as she is lovely, for Minnie. These werecalled "A Little Leaven, " and "Two Little Heaps;" and, let me tell you, Minnie considers them the best books that ever were written; whilelittle Fanny's favorite was, and is, the "R. R. B's. " It is the historyof a dear little Robin Redbreast and his family; and Fanny says it is a"darling book. "

The dear absent soldier brother was not forgotten. On the table weretwo packages directed to him. One of these contained a dozen finehem-stitched pocket handkerchiefs, with the initials of his namebeautifully worked in a corner of each. This had been done by Anna, whowas very skilful in such dainty arts. The other package consisted of acomplete set of Dickens's works, in strong, plain, but very neatbindings. 

"Oh, " cried Harry. "George will stand on his head for joy, when he getsthese; he will be so tickled! The very books he was longing to own!"

"How _can_ he stand on his head?" asked Bennie. 

"This way, " answered Harry, and going up to the side of the room, hesuddenly lifted his feet in the air, resting them against the wall, andstared at Bennie with his face upside down, and the top of his head onthe carpet. 

The children laughed heartily, and as a matter of course, all the littlebrothers began to practise standing on their heads, till they nearly gotfits of apoplexy, with the blood rushing the wrong way. 

After they had returned from church that morning, every one of themwrote to George a company letter, wishing him a merry Christmas, tellinghim all the wonderful news about the little play; and informing him ofthe quantity of mittens which were coming. They had now finishedeighteen pairs, to add to their fifty-seven, which their friends hadgiven them. These seventy-five pairs, were to be sent away the nextmorning; but George's presents were to be carefully kept until his happyreturn home; for he could not put all those precious books in hisknapsack; and as he might move from one place to another very often, theless he had to carry in marching, the better. 

The smaller children felt an almost reverential affection for theirsoldier brother, who had gone away to fight for his country. Theyregarded his letters as perfect wonders, with Camp Ellsworth printed onthe outside of them, and such superb capital D's and G's inside. Thelittle ones did not know _how_ he could make such splendid letters, sitting in a tent, with the paper on his knee, ready to drop it at amoment's warning, and flash fire and shot out of his gun, at the enemy. They were quite sure he would be a General in a very short time, andJohnny had serious thoughts of writing to the good President Lincoln, and asking him to make George one without waiting any longer. Indeed, he_did_ write: but his mother thought it best not to send it: though I wassure the President would have liked it very much; for he is such agreat-hearted, good man, such a pure patriot; and I happen to know thathe loves children dearly. Here is Johnny's letter. It is a simple, funnylittle epistle, full of trust and faith. 

 "PRESIDENT LINCOLN:

 "_My Dear Friend_, --Do you know my big brother George? He is such a good boy! He never teazes us, or the cat, or anybody. Mary O'Reilly (that's our kitten) always rubs her coat against his legs when he comes home; so you see that is a sign that he is never cruel to animals. He once tried to teach a crab at Long Branch to dance the polka, but he didn't hurt it; no, indeed!

 "Please, my dear friend, to make him a General, with a long sword, saddle, bridle, and a whack fol de rol; though I don't know what that is--I heard a soldier singing it--and I will come and hug and kiss you as hard as a rock. 

 "Clara and Anna say, they will hug and kiss you too, if you will make George a General; only you must promise not to scratch their faces with your beard, as papa sometimes does--just for fun, you know. Besides which, my dear friend, they will give you a mitten apiece. How would you like that? They make lots for the soldiers, out of skeins of long yarn; mamma says you are a famous fellow for spinning splendid yarns yourself. Ours is dark blue; but mamma says, yours are all the colors of the rainbow, and a great deal of black besides; and everybody is delighted with them, and all the soldiers love you, and I am your

 "affectionate friend, "JOHNNY. "

I should not be in the least surprised, if the good President shouldanswer this letter after he sees it here; and send his answer to Mr. Appleton for Johnny. If he does, I will tell you all about it, as sureas my name is Aunt Fanny. Meanwhile, you must know that the fifty-seven"little play mittens, " as the children called them, and the eighteenpairs, which they had made this time, and which they called their "twostory mittens, " have gone to the brave soldiers. Do tell me, my littledarlings, how many have been sent altogether; now that we have come tothe

 END OF THE FOURTH BOOK. 

_D. Appleton & Company's Juvenile Works. _

HAPPY CHILD'S LIBRARY. 18 vols, in case. 

HARRY'S VACATION; or, PHILOSOPHY AT HOME. By WM. C. RICHARDS, A. M. 

HAVEN'S (Alice B. , or Cousin Alice) CONTENTMENT BETTER THAN WEALTH. 16mo, illustrated. 

 PATIENT WAITING NO LOSS. 16mo, illustrated. 

 NO SUCH WORD AS FAIL. 16mo, illustrated. 

 "ALL'S NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS;" or THE YOUNG CALIFORNIAN. 1 vol. , 16mo, neatly illustrated. 

 NOTHING VENTURE, NOTHING HAVE, 1 vol. , 16mo, beautifully illustrated. 

 OUT OF DEBT, OUT OF DANGER. 16mo, illustrated, cloth. 

 A PLACE FOR EVERYTHING. 16mo, cloth. 

 THE COOPERS; or, GETTING UNDER WAY. 12mo, cloth. 

 LOSS AND GAIN; or, MARGARET'S HOME. 18mo, illustrated, cloth. 

 WHERE THERE'S A WILL, THERE'S A WAY. 16mo, illustrated, cloth, extra. 

HEWET'S ILLUMINATED HOUSEHOLD STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS. Beautifullyillustrated. 

 No. 1. CINDERELLA. " 2. JACK THE GIANT KILLER. " 3. PUSS IN BOOTS. " 4. LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD. " 5. JACK AND THE BEAN STALK. " 6. TOM THUMB. " 7. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. 

HISTORY OF PETER THE GREAT, CZAR OF RUSSIA. By SARAH H. BRADFORD. 16mo, illustrated, cloth. 

HOWITT'S (Mary) SERIES OF POPULAR JUVENILE WORKS. 14 vols. , uniform, ina case, in extra cloth, neat style. 

JESSIE GRAHAM; or, FRIENDS DEAR, BUT TRUTH DEARER. By MARIA J. MCINTOSH. 1 square vol. , 16mo. 

LIBRARY OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 4 thick vols. , with engravings. In acase. 

LOUIS'S SCHOOL DAYS. By E. J. MAY. Illustrated, 16mo. 

LOUISE; or, THE BEAUTY OF INTEGRITY, AND OTHER TALES. 16mo, cloth. 

McINTOSH'S NEW JUVENILE LIBRARY. 7 beautiful vols. With illustrations. In a case. 

McINTOSH'S META GRAY; or, WHAT MAKES HOME HAPPY. 16mo, cloth. 

McINTOSH'S (Maria J. ) A YEAR WITH MAGGIE AND EMMA. A true story. 18mo, illustrated, cloth. 

MARTHA'S HOOKS AND EYES. 18mo, frontispiece, cloth. 

MARY LEE. By KATE LIVERMORE. 18mo, illus. , cloth. 

MARRYAT'S SETTLERS IN CANADA. 2 vols. In one, colored. 

SCENES IN AFRICA. 2 vols. In one, colored. 

MASTERMAN READY. 3 vols. In one, colored. 

MORTIMER'S COLLEGE LIFE. With neat illustrations, 16mo, cloth. 

MYSTERIOUS STORY BOOK; or, THE GOOD STEP-MOTHER. Illustrated, 16mo, giltedges. 

NIGHTCAP SERIES. By AUNT FANNY. 6 vols. , 18mo, uniform neatlyillustrated. In extra cloth. 

 1. NIGHTCAPS. 2. NEW NIGHTCAPS. 3. BABY NIGHTCAPS. 4. LITTLE NIGHTCAPS. 5. BIG NIGHTCAPS. 6. FAIRY NIGHTCAPS. 

FAIRY NIGHTCAPS. Illustrated with colored engravings. Extra cloth, giltedges. 

NEW FAIRY STORIES FOR MY GRANDCHILDREN, By GEORGE KEIT. Translated by S. W. LANDER. 18mo, illustrated, cloth. 

PARLEY'S PRESENT FOR ALL SEASONS. By S. G. GOODRICH (Peter Parley). Illustrated with 16 fine engravings. 12mo, elegantly bound in a newstyle. 

PHILIP RANDOLPH. A Tale of Virginia. By MARY GERTRUDE 18mo. 

PICTURE SERIES OF STORY BOOKS FOR CHILDREN. 10 vols. , uniform square12mo. , in a case. With 654 engravings and the text printed in largeclear type. Extra cloth, gilt edges. 

 1. THE CHILDREN'S BIBLE PICTURE BOOK. Illustrated with 80 engravings. 

 2. THE CHILDREN'S PICTURE BOOK OF ENGLISH HISTORY. Illustrated with 50 engravings. 

 3. THE CHILDREN'S PICTURE BOOK OF GOOD AND GREAT MEN. Illustrated with 50 engravings. 

 4. A PICTURE BOOK OF MERRY TALES. Illustrated with 47 plates. 

 5. THE HOME TREASURY OF OLD STORY BOOKS. Illustrated with 50 engravings. 

 6. THE CHILDREN'S PICTURE BOOK OF COUNTRY SCENES. Illustrated with 55 engravings. 

 7. THE CHILDREN'S PICTURE FABLE BOOK. Illustrated with 60 engravings. 

 8. A TREASURY OF PLEASURE BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. Illustrated with 140 engravings. 

 9. THE CHILDREN'S PICTURE BOOKS OF BIRDS. Illustrated with 61 engravings. 

 10. THE CHILDREN'S PICTURE BOOK OF QUADRUPEDS. Illustrated with 61 engravings. 

PET BIRDS, AND OTHER STORIES. By COUSIN ALICE. 1 vol. , illustrated. 

PLEASURE AND PROFIT; or, LESSONS ON THE LORD'S PRAYER. By MRS. RICHARDS. 1 vol. , illustrated. 

PRINCE CHARLIE, THE YOUNG CHEVALIER. By MEREDITH JOHNES. 18mo, illustrated, cloth. 

PUSS IN BOOTS. Finely illustrated by OTTO SPECKTER. Square 18mo. 

ROBINSON CRUSOE. Pictorial edition. 300 plates. 8vo. 

ROSE AND LILLIE STANHOPE; or, THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. By MARIA J. MCINTOSH. 1 vol. 

SEDGEMOOR; or HOME LESSONS. By MRS. MANNERS. 16mo, illustrated, cloth. 

SEVEN CHAMPIONS OF CHRISTENDOM. Re-written by W. H. G. KINGSTON. Illustrated by FRANKLIN. 12mo, extra cloth. 

STORIES OF AN OLD MAID. By MADAM DE GIRARDIN, 16mo, illustrated, cloth. 

SUNSHINE IN GREYSTONE. By the author of "Louis's School Days. " 16mo, illustrated. 

UNCLE JOHN'S FIRST BOOK. Illustrated with numerous pretty engravings. Square 16mo, neat cloth. 

UNCLE JOHN'S SECOND BOOK. Illustrated with numerous pretty engravings. Square 18mo, in neat cloth. 

VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. A Tale. By OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 1 vol. , 12mo, withnumerous illustrations. 

THE LITTLE BUILDER; or, How a Child may Make a Cardboard Village, without using any adhesive material. A new and excellent toy book forchildren. The various buildings are beautifully colored, and suppliedready for cutting out. 

THE LITTLE ENGINEER; or, How a Child may make a Cardboard RailwayStation, with Engine, Tender, Carriages, Station, Bridges, Signal Posts, Passengers, Porters, &c. Folio. Colored. By the Designer of the "LittleBuilder. "

*** The success of this very beautiful and interesting toy book islikely to exceed even that of the "Little Builder, " and the effectproduced, when carefully put together, is charming in the extreme. 

THE WANDERERS BY SEA AND LAND, WITH OTHER TALES. By PETER PARLEY. Illustrated with exquisite designs. 1 vol. , 12mo. 

THE WEEK'S DELIGHT; or, GAMES AND STORIES FOR THE PARLOR AND FIRESIDE. 1neat volume, 16mo. Engravings. 

WILLIAM TELL, THE PATRIOT OF SWITZERLAND; to which is added, AndreasHofer, the "Tell" of the Tyrol. Cloth. 

WINTER (A) WREATH OF SUMMER FLOWERS. By S. G. GOODRICH. Illustrated withsplendid colored plates by French artists. 1 superb volume, 8vo, extracloth, gilt edges. 

YOUNG AMERICANS PICTURE GALLERY. Containing 500 beautiful engravings. 4to, fancy boards. The same, colored. 

YOUNG STUDENT (The); or, RALPH AND VICTOR. By MADAME GUIZOT. 1 volume of500 pages, with illustrations. 

YOUTH'S BOOK OF NATURE. New edition. 1 vol square 16mo, cloth. 

 * * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired. 

Page 12, first word of chapter smallcapped to match rest of text. 

Page 34, "enugh" changed to "enough" (and sure enough)

Page 38, "perfecty" changed to "perfectly" (so perfectly happy)

Page 65, "itelf" changed to "itself" (fastened itself)

Page 80, in the cast list Mr. Was smallcapped to match the rest of thecast and usage. 

Booklists, the booklist starts with page three in this edition. 

Page 4, "glit" changed to "gilt" (Extra cloth, gilt edges)

Page 6, the asterism was represented by three asterisks.