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diff --git a/26953-h/26953-h.htm b/26953-h/26953-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2de8b8a --- /dev/null +++ b/26953-h/26953-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6623 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Jessie Carlton, by Francis Forrester. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.2em;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + div.ce p {text-align: center; margin: auto 0;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + div.la p {text-align: left; margin: auto 0;} + .caption {font-size:.8em;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + hr.tb {width: 35%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + .blockquot {margin-left:5%; margin-right:5%;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + div.ra p {text-align: right; margin: auto 0;} + hr.minor {width: 35%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + hr.silver {width: 100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.4em;} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Jessie Carlton, by Francis Forrester + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jessie Carlton + The Story of a Girl who Fought with Little Impulse, the + Wizard, and Conquered Him + +Author: Francis Forrester + +Release Date: October 18, 2008 [EBook #26953] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JESSIE CARLTON *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/frontis.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 425px; height: 564px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 425px;'> +<span style='font-variant: small-caps'> Jessie Talking to Rover</span>. Front<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/title.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 526px; height: 669px;' /><br /> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:0.5em;'>GLEN MORRIS STORIES.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:2.2em; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:1em;'>JESSIE CARLTON;</p> +<p>THE</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Story of a Girl who fought with little</span></p> +<p style=' margin-bottom:2em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Impulse, the Wizard,</span></p> +<p style=' margin-bottom:3em;'>AND CONQUERED HIM.</p> +<p>BY</p> +<p>FRANCIS FORRESTER, ESQ.,</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>AUTHOR OF “GUY CARLTON,” “DICK DUNCAN,” “MY UNCLE TOBY’S</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:4em;'>LIBRARY,” ETC.</p> +<p>BOSTON:</p> +<p>BROWN & TAGGARD.</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>NEW YORK: HOWE & FERRY.</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>1861.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:0.8em;'> +<p>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860,</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>By</span> HOWE & FERRY,</p> +<p>In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States</p> +<p>for the Southern District of New York.</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>RENNIE, SHEA & LINDSAY,</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Stereotypers and Electrotypers</span>,</p> +<p>81, 83 & 85 Centre-street,</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>New York</span>.</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>R. CRAIGHEAD,</p> +<p><i>Printer</i>,</p> +<p>81, 83 & 85 <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Centre-st.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>NOTE</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>TO PARENTS, GUARDIANS, AND TEACHERS.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>The purpose of the “<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Glen Morris Stories</span>” is to +sow the seed of pure, noble, manly character in the +mind of our great nation’s childhood. They exhibit +the virtues and vices of childhood, not in prosy, unreadable +precepts, but in a series of characters which +move before the imagination as living beings do before +the senses. Thus access to the heart is won by way of +the imagination. While the story charms, the truth +sows itself in the conscience and in the affections. The +child is thereby led to abhor the false and the vile, and +to sympathize with the right, the beautiful, and the +true. To every parent, teacher, and guardian, who has +affinity with these high purposes, the “Glen Morris +Stories” are most respectfully inscribed by their fellow-laborer +in the field of childhood.</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Francis Forrester</span>.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'><i>ORDER OF THE GLEN MORRIS STORIES.</i></p> +</div> + +<ol style='list-style-type: upper-roman; width:60%; margin: 1em auto;'> +<li>Guy Carlton, the Story of a Boy who belonged to the “Try Company.”</li> +<li>Dick Duncan, the Story of a Boy who loved Mischief.</li> +<li>Jessie Carlton, the Story of a Girl who fought with little Impulse, the Wizard, and conquered him.</li> +<li>Walter Sherwood, the Story of an easy, good-natured Boy.</li> +<li>Kate Carlton, the Story of a vain Girl.</li> +</ol> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Contents</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie And Impulse The Wizard.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_JESSIE_AND_IMPULSE_THE_WIZARD'>11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie’s Two Cousins.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_JESSIE_S_TWO_COUSINS'>27</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Nutting-Party.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_A_NUTTINGPARTY'>43</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie’s Great Sorrow.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_JESSIE_S_GREAT_SORROW'>59</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Broken Mirror.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_THE_BROKEN_MIRROR'>76</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The First Slide of the Season.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_THE_FIRST_SLIDE_OF_THE_SEASON'>92</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie’s First Great Victory.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_JESSIE_S_FIRST_GREAT_VICTORY'>108</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Farewell to the Cousins.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_FAREWELL_TO_THE_COUSINS'>122</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Wizard in the Field Again.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_THE_WIZARD_IN_THE_FIELD_AGAIN'>136</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Madge Clifton.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_MADGE_CLIFTON'>151</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Madge Clifton’s Mother.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_MADGE_CLIFTON_S_MOTHER'>166</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Little Impulse beaten again.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_LITTLE_IMPULSE_BEATEN_AGAIN'>180</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Skating-Party.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_THE_SKATINGPARTY'>194</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Watch-Pocket finished.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_THE_WATCHPOCKET_FINISHED'>209</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Thanksgiving Day.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_THANKSGIVING_DAY'>222</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>ENGRAVINGS.</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto'> +<col style='width:80%;' /> +<col style='width:20%;' /> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie and Emily Sailing Boats in the Quarry.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'>50</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie and Carrie Enjoying a Slide.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>102</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mrs. Moneypenny Reading Jack’s Letter.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>148</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Walter Sliding With Carrie and Jessie.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_4'>220</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY.</p> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie Carlton</span>, only daughter of a New York merchant residing at +Glen Morris Cottage, Duncanville, a village near New York.</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Emily</span> and <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Charlie Morris</span>, Jessie’s two cousins, visiting at Glen +Morris Cottage.</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Madge Clifton</span>, Jessie’s <i>protégé</i>.</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Carrie Sherwood</span>, one of Jessie’s companions.</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mrs. Moneypenny</span>, a poor widow, and her son <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jack</span>.</p> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>JESSIE CARLTON</p> +</div> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='I_JESSIE_AND_IMPULSE_THE_WIZARD' id='I_JESSIE_AND_IMPULSE_THE_WIZARD'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie and the Wizard.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>On a bright afternoon of a warm day in +October, <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie Carlton</span> sat in the parlor of +Glen Morris Cottage. Her elbows rested on +the table, her face was held between her two +plump little hands, and her eyes were feasting +on some charming pictures which were spread +out before her. A pretty little work-basket +stood on a chair at her side. It contained several +yards of rumpled patchwork, two pieces of +broadcloth with figures partially worked on +them as if they were intended for a pair of slippers, +a watch-pocket half finished, and a small +piece of silk composed of very little squares. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +On the table close to her left elbow was a cambric +handkerchief with some embroidery just +begun in one of its corners. A needle carelessly +stuck into it showed that Jessie had been +working on it when her eyes were attracted by +the pictures she was now studying with such +close attention.</p> +<p>After a few minutes the little girl moved her +right arm for the purpose of looking at another +picture, when her thimble dropped from her +finger to the table with a loud ringing sound. +She started to pick it up, and in so doing +pushed her scissors to the floor. The noise +they made in falling led Jessie to glance towards +the sofa, and to say in a very soft whisper—</p> +<p>“Oh dear! I’m afraid those naughty scissors +have waked Uncle Morris out of his nap!”</p> +<p>Jessie was right. The noise had started Uncle +Morris from a cozy little nap into which he had +fallen after dinner. It was not often that the +active old gentleman indulged himself in this +way; but a long walk in the morning had made +him weary, and he had quietly roamed into +dreamland as he sat reading. He now opened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +his eyes, looked round the room, and seeing his +niece looking askance at him, said—</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Jessie? I heard something +fall with a great crash, what was it?”</p> +<p>Jessie laughed outright. It was not very +polite, but she could not very well keep the fun +out of her face. It seemed so queer that her +uncle should call the noise made by the fall of +a pair of scissors <i>a great crash</i>. At last she +said—</p> +<p>“There was no great crash, Uncle. Only +my scissors fell from the table.”</p> +<p>“Was that all? Why it sounded to me just +like the crash of a tray full of crockery ware. +That was because I was half asleep, I suppose. +Well, never mind, I’m not the first old gentleman +who has magnified a little noise into a +great one in his sleep—but what are you so +busy about this afternoon, little puss!”</p> +<p>As Uncle Morris put this question he arose, +walked up to the table and began to look at +Jessie’s work, for by this time she had begun +stitching on the cambric handkerchief again. +Blushing deeply, she said— +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></p> +<p>“I am embroidering a pocket-handkerchief, +Uncle.”</p> +<p>“Indeed! how fond you little ladies are of +finery!” said Uncle Morris, smiling and patting +Jessie’s head.</p> +<p>“I’m not doing it for myself, Uncle,” replied +the child.</p> +<p>“Not for yourself, eh? Is it for papa, then?”</p> +<p>“No, Sir.”</p> +<p>“For your brother Guy, perhaps?”</p> +<p>“No, Sir. Not for Guy,” and looking slyly +at her uncle, she added. “I guess that you are +not Yankee enough to guess whom it is for.”</p> +<p>“For your brother Hugh, maybe?”</p> +<p>“You must guess again, Uncle.”</p> +<p>“Well, maybe it is for your hero, Richard +Duncan.”</p> +<p>“O Uncle! Do you think I would embroider +a handkerchief for a young gentleman!” and +Jessie pursed up her lips as though she was going +to be very angry.</p> +<p>“Don’t be angry with your old uncle, my +little puss,” said Mr. Morris with an air of +mock penitence, “I had an idea that young +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +ladies did such things for young gentlemen +sometimes. But who is it for? I give it +up.”</p> +<p>“You give it up! Why, I thought you belonged +to the ‘never give up company.’ Oh, +fy! Uncle Morris, I’ll get you turned out of the +try company if you don’t mind. So you had +better guess again,” and Jessie held up her fat +finger and looked so funnily at Mr. Morris that +the old gentleman’s heart warmed towards her, +and giving her a kiss of fond affection, he +said—</p> +<p>“Then I guess it is for your poor old uncle.”</p> +<p>“Beans are hot!” cried Jessie, clapping her +hands. “You’ve guessed it at last. But see +my work, Uncle! Isn’t it beautiful?”</p> +<p>“Very pretty, indeed, my dear,” replied the +old man, who now put on a comical look, and +added, “but I’m afraid I shall not live until it +is finished.”</p> +<p>“Not live——!” Jessie was going to be +alarmed, but her uncle’s laughing eyes checked +her alarm, and catching his meaning from his +expression, she pouted and was silent. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></p> +<p>“Don’t put on that frightful pout, my little +puss, for, really, I should have to live as long +a life as an ancient patriarch if I do not die before +you are likely to <i>finish</i> the handkerchief. +There are the quilt, the slippers, the watch-pocket, +the chair-cushion, and the handkerchief +all <i>begun</i> for me, but nothing finished. That +little wizard—his name is <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Impulse</span>, you know—which +led you to drop the quilt that you might +begin the slippers, and the slippers that you +might begin the chair-cushion, will soon tempt +you to drop the handkerchief for something +else. I wish I could catch the jolly little imp. +I’d cane him smartly, and then I would lead +him to Parson Resolution’s church, and marry +him to that sweet little fairy, <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Miss Perseverance</span>, +who is breaking her heart for the love of +him. Were he once thus married, I think his +bride would teach him to help you finish all +the little gifts you have begun for me, and +there would be some hope that I should live +long enough to sleep under your quilt, sit on +your cushion, walk in your slippers, put my +watch in your pocket at night, and blow my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +venerable nose in your embroidered pocket-handkerchief.”</p> +<p>The reproof so pleasantly given in these quaint +words found its way to Jessie’s heart. Her +face became sober, she bit her lips, a stray tear +or two hung, like dew-drops in the web of a +gossamer, on her long eyelashes, she sighed +and after a few moments of silent thought rose, +planted her right foot firmly on the floor, and +said—</p> +<p>“Uncle Morris, I <i>will</i> conquer that little +wizard! I <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>will</span> <i>finish</i> your quilt right away, +and then all the other things in their turn—see +if I don’t.”</p> +<p>Jessie had made just such a promise at least +<i>ten</i> times, since Glen Morris Cottage had become +her home. She had tried to keep it too, +but, somehow, <i>her habit of yielding to every +new impulse which came over her</i>, had hitherto +led her to break it as often as it had been +made. The little wizard, as Uncle Morris facetiously +called her changeful impulses, was her +tyrant. The jolly little rogue did, indeed, sadly +stand in need of matrimony with the forlorn +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +Miss Perseverance. For poor Jessie’s sake, +Uncle Morris was very anxious to see the wedding +come off speedily. Whether his wish was +met or not, will appear hereafter.</p> +<p>To prove her sincerity Jessie put the cambric +handkerchief in the bottom of her work-basket. +The other articles she placed, in the order in +which she had begun them, above it, and then +sat resolutely down to her patchwork quilt. +As her bright little needle began to fly with the +swiftness of a weaver’s shuttle, she said to herself—</p> +<p>“Now I <i>will</i> finish Uncle Morris’s quilt right +off.”</p> +<p>Uncle Morris had left the parlor, and Jessie +had sewed steadily for at least fifteen minutes, +when her brother Hugh bounded into the room, +holding two letters in his hand, and said—</p> +<p>“Letters for Jessie Carlton and her mother. +Postage one dollar, to be paid to the bearer on +delivery. Give me your half-dollar, Miss Carlton, +and I will give you your letter!”</p> +<p>“A letter for me!” cried Jessie, dropping +her work and running to her brother, capsizing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +her work-basket as she ran. “Give it to me! +Give it to me.”</p> +<p>“Pay me the postage first,” said Hugh, holding +the letter over her head.</p> +<p>“There is no postage, you know there isn’t, +you naughty Hugh! Give me my letter,” and +Jessie pulled Hugh’s arm in the vain attempt +to bring the letter within her reach.</p> +<p>“No postage, indeed! Do you think Uncle +Sam can afford to carry letters for all the Yankee +girls who may choose to write to each +other, without pay? Not he. Uncle Sam +knows how to care for number one too well for +that. So hand over your half-dollar, Miss +Jessie, and I will give you your letter.”</p> +<p>Jessie coaxed and scolded at her brother for +nearly ten minutes, in vain. Hugh loved to +tease her, and so he kept on, now offering the +letter, and then holding it beyond her reach, +until the poor child’s patience being all gone, +she sat down and cried with vexation. This +was certainly carrying his fun too far. A little +pleasant bantering at first, though not <i>amiable</i>, +might have been pardonable; but now that her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +feelings were hurt he was very unkind to carry +his nonsense any further. But this was one of +Hugh’s faults. He was a great tease. Seeing +his sister in tears, he said, in a whining +tone—</p> +<p>“Pretty little cry-baby! How beautiful you +are, all melted into tears!” Then dropping the +whine from his tone, he added, “Here, Jessie, +take your letter!”</p> +<p>Jessie stretched out her arm to take the offered +letter. Hugh drew it back again and +said—</p> +<p>“Bah! Don’t you wish you may get it!”</p> +<p>“You unamiable boy! is that the affection +which is due from a brother to his sister? O +Hugh! Hugh! I wish you had more love and +less selfishness in that idle soul of yours.”</p> +<p>This just rebuke from the lips of Uncle Morris, +who had been standing unperceived for the +last few minutes behind the half-open door, put +an end to all Master Hugh’s idle, not to say +wicked, teasing. He dropped the letters into +Jessie’s lap, and with an angry scowl on his +face left the room. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></p> +<p>The sunshine came back into Jessie’s face in +a moment. She looked her thanks to Uncle +Morris, while she nervously opened the envelope +of her letter. Having unfolded it, she +read as follows:</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<div class='ra'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Morristown</span>, New Jersey, October 10th, 18—</p> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Cousin Jessie</span>,</p> +<p>Pa and Ma have just given their +consent to have me and my brother Charlie +visit you at Glen Morris Cottage. I am so +glad I can hardly hold my pen to write you +about it. Charlie is jumping about the room, +and shouting hurrah, for joy. We are to start +Thursday, in the afternoon train, and shall get +to your house to tea. With ten thousand +kisses for you, I remain,</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p>Your affectionate cousin,</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Emily Morris.</span></p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Miss Jessie Carlton.</span></p> +</div> + +</div> +<p>“Oh, won’t it be nice, Uncle Morris!” cried +Jessie, after reading this note. “What good +times I shall have with my cousins! I’m so +glad I don’t know what to do with myself.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span></p> +<p>“You are a happy little puss generally, and +I am glad to see you made happier than usual +by this pleasant letter from your cousin. But +are you sure, my dear Jessie, that you will +enjoy your cousins’ visit?”</p> +<p>“Why, Uncle!” cried Jessie, with an air of +surprise. “How can you ask me such a question? +I am sure I shall love my cousins very +much, and we shall enjoy ourselves very finely +together.”</p> +<p>“Well! Well! I hope it may be so,” said +Uncle Morris, with a sigh which made Jessie +think that the good old man’s hope was not a +very strong one. She said nothing, however, +and Uncle Morris asked—</p> +<p>“When are your cousins coming?”</p> +<p>Jessie looked at her letter and read, “‘We +are to start Thursday,’”—pausing, and looking +up, she exclaimed—</p> +<p>“Why, that’s this very day! I declare they +will be here this afternoon. Won’t it be nice!”</p> +<p>“Yes, to-day <i>is</i> Thursday. Your letter has +been delayed. Perhaps you had better take +your mamma’s letter to her room. She may require +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +time to make preparations for her young +guests. They will be here—let me see (looking +at his watch), in two hours. Run Jessie and +tell your mother!”</p> +<p>Jessie hurried to her mother’s apartment +with the unopened letter and the news. Mrs. +Carlton’s letter was from Emily’s mother and +contained the same information.</p> +<p>Jessie was in ecstasies during the next two +hours. To be sure, there was that question +and that sigh of Uncle Morris to cast a slight +shadow on her joy. But shadows never tarried +long on Jessie’s spirit, which was so bright and +joyous that it seemed as if it was made of sunshine. +Happy little Jessie Carlton!</p> +<p>Emily’s letter had put all thought of her +work out of Jessie’s head. Her patchwork lay +on the floor beside the overturned work-basket, +until her mother going to prepare the parlor +for company, picked both up and put them +away. In fact, Jessie’s little wizard had her in +his chains again. She was once more the simple-hearted +child of impulse.</p> +<p>Having fixed her hair and changed her dress, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +Jessie ran out on to the piazza to watch for the +coming of her cousins. First she seated herself +on the settee, which stood there, and made the +air ring again with her joyous song. After a +few minutes, she sprang from her seat and seizing +old Rover by the head, began to tell him +that her cousins were coming, and, therefore, he +must be the very best behaved dog in the +world.<a name="FNanchor_A" id="FNanchor_A"></a><a href="#Footnote_A" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> Then seating herself lightly on old +Rover’s back, she patted his neck, and said—</p> +<p>“Noble old Rover, won’t you give your mistress +a ride?”</p> +<p>Rover was a grand old dog, large and strong +enough to carry a much heavier miss than Jessie. +He was good-natured too. Still he had no notion +of being used for a pony. So, after standing +quite still for a moment or two, he suddenly +started and sent Jessie sprawling on the piazza, +while he trotted down the steps and made a +bed for himself in the greensward, on the lawn, +as quietly as if nothing had happened. A +knowing old dog was Rover.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span></div> +<p>Jessie picked herself up and began singing +again. Scarcely had she trilled out two lines +before she saw Guy coming towards the house. +With the light spring of a fairy she bounded +across the lawn, and meeting him at the gate +exclaimed—</p> +<p>“O Guy, cousin Emily and cousin Charlie +are coming here to-night. Aren’t you glad?”</p> +<p>“To be sure I am. I’m glad of any thing +that pleases my sister.”</p> +<p>Jessie kissed him, and taking his hand, +walked with him back to the piazza, where she +resumed her watching, beguiling the time by +humming her songs and by an occasional frolic +with old Rover.</p> +<p>At last, the sound of wheels told her that the +carriage was coming up from the railroad station. +A few minutes later it rolled along the +road which ran through the lawn and in front +of the piazza. Four bright eyes peeped over +the door, which the coachman speedily opened. +Mr. Carlton stepped out first and then came +Emily and Charlie. Never did cousins meet +with warmer greetings than they received from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +Jessie and Guy, and Mrs. Carlton, and Uncle +Morris. Never was little girl happier than +Jessie, when, a few minutes later, she had +Emily all to herself, in her own sweet little +chamber, showing her the contents of drawer and +trunk and doll-house, and whatever else might +be included in the term “playthings.” When +Emily and Charlie went to bed that night, they +were in ecstasies over the pleasant things they +had seen and felt on the first evening of their +visit to Glen Morris Cottage.</p> + +<hr style='width: 10%; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both; margin: 2em auto 1em 0' /> + +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_A' id='Footnote_A'></a><a href='#FNanchor_A'><span class='label'>[A]</span></a> +<p style='font-size: small'> See Frontispiece.</p></div> + +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='II_JESSIE_S_TWO_COUSINS' id='II_JESSIE_S_TWO_COUSINS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie’s Two Cousins.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>The first few days of her cousins’ visit were +like a pleasant dream to Jessie. She had so +much to say, and so many things to show to her +visitors, that they could scarcely help sharing +the joy which welled up within her like a crystal +stream from a mountain spring. Seeing +them so cheerful and happy, Jessie wondered +more and more at the question her uncle had +asked her about enjoying their visit.</p> +<p>“I don’t see what Uncle Morris meant,” said +she to herself one afternoon, while her cousins +were on the lawn laughing and playing with +Guy, and she was washing her hands by way +of preparation for tea. “He looked and sighed,” +she went on to say, “as if he thought I +should be disappointed in them. But I am +not. They are the kindest, merriest cousins in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +the world. I declare I’ll ask Uncle Morris +what he meant, the next time I see him alone.”</p> +<p>That next time came very soon, for as Jessie +skipped down stairs, with laughter twinkling in +her eyes, and a song tripping from her tongue, +she met her uncle in the hall. Running right +to him, she seized his arm, peered curiously into +his face, and said—</p> +<p>“Uncle Morris?”</p> +<p>“Well, little puss, what now?” replied the +old gentleman, as he kissed her rosy cheeks.</p> +<p>“I want you to tell me what you sighed and +shook your head for, last week, when I told you +what good times I was going to have with my +cousins?” said Jessie, closely watching the expression +of the old gentleman’s face.</p> +<p>There was a merry twinkle in Uncle Morris’s +eyes, as he replied, “You have a good memory +for a laughing little puss. Well, I’m glad you +have not yet found out why I sighed. I hope +you won’t make the discovery, though I fear +you will before another week passes. There is +a proverb which says, <i>It’s only the shoe that +knows whether the stocking has holes in it or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +not.</i> Now, Jessie, if you can find out the meaning +of this proverb, you will know why I sighed. +If you don’t find it out in a week, I’ll explain +it to you.”</p> +<p>“How funny!” exclaimed the little girl; and +then, putting on a thoughtful air, she repeated +the proverb slowly, in an undertone; after +which, she added aloud, “I don’t see what +shoes and stockings have to do with my cousins +and me. What a funny man you are, Uncle +Morris!”</p> +<p>Uncle Morris had, by this time, reached the +door leading to the back piazza. He heard this +exclamation, however, and turning round, with +the door-knob in his hand, he peeped through +the opening, shook his forefinger at her, and +said—</p> +<p>“When Jessie knows her cousins as the shoe +knows the stocking, she will be able to tell +why I sighed. Ha! ha! ha! Uncle Morris is a +funny man, is he?”</p> +<p>Just then a loud voice was heard ringing +through the hall, and saying—</p> +<p>“Cousin Jessie! Cousin Jessie! come here +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +quick! Your ugly old dog is killing my sister!”</p> +<p>“Not quite so bad as that, I guess,” said +Jessie, when she reached the front door, where +she saw Emily sitting on the greensward, rubbing +the back of her head. Old Rover was +standing on the piazza, uttering a low growl at +Charlie, by way of warning him not to throw +any more stones at his dogship.</p> +<p>“He’s an ugly monster, that he is,” said the +boy, hurling another stone at Rover, as he +moved toward his mistress, and began to rub +his nose against her hands.</p> +<p>“Down, Rover!” said Jessie, patting the +dog’s head, and thus quieting his temper, which +was somewhat ruffled by the last stone, which +Charlie had sent right against his ribs.</p> +<p>“I <i>will</i> stone him, if I want to,” growled +Charlie, pouting his lips, puffing out his cheeks, +and stamping his foot, as Guy laid his hand on +his right arm.</p> +<p>“No, no, Charlie, you must not stone old +Rover. It is not kind to hurt a poor, harmless +dog, nor is it quite safe, either, for, you see, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +Rover has big teeth, and he may bite you if +you hurt him,” said Guy, still holding the angry +boy.</p> +<p>“I don’t care! He hurt my sister. I’ll kick +you if you don’t let me stone him as much as I +like. Let me go, you ugly fellow!” and with +these words, Charlie kicked and struggled with +such violence, that Guy could scarcely hold +him.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Jessie, having sent old Rover to +his kennel, was trying to comfort Emily. The +whole difficulty had grown out of her attempt +to mount the dog’s back, in defiance of Guy’s +advice. He told her that Rover did not like to +do service as a pony, and that he would certainly +throw her off if she tried to ride him. But, +urged on by Charlie, she had seated herself on +the dog, and had been thrown down just as +Jessie had been, a few days before. She was +not much hurt, a slight bruise on the back of +her head being the only damage she had sustained. +Jessie would have laughed over such a +trifle. But Emily was not like Jessie. She +had been pleasant thus far, since her coming to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +Glen Morris. But now, her good-nature being +played out, she began to show the selfish and +ugly side of her character.</p> +<p>“Never mind that little hurt, dear Emily,” +said Jessie, as she passed her hand lightly over +the bruise. “If you will go into the house with +me, I’ll get mother to rub a little <i>arnica</i> upon +it, and that will make it well very soon.”</p> +<p>“I won’t go in; and if your father don’t have +that ugly dog killed, I’ll go home to-morrow, +that I will!”</p> +<p>“What! have Rover killed? Oh, no! Pa +won’t do that, I’m sure,” said Jessie, a little +startled at the idea of dear old Rover’s death.</p> +<p>“I’ll kill him!” screamed Charlie, who was +still a sulky prisoner in Guy’s hands.</p> +<p>“You are a little fellow to play the part of a +butcher!” said Mr. Morris, who had now come +to the front of the house, and had been quietly +surveying the scene, for a few moments past, +from behind a large evergreen, unperceived by +all but Guy.</p> +<p>“I’m glad you are come, Uncle,” said Guy, +“for I did not know what to do with this little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +lump of spunk. I guess that Jessie is glad, too, +for she seems puzzled to know what to do with +Emily, who is as sulky as Charlie here is +spunky.”</p> +<p>The presence of Uncle Morris quieted Charlie, +and made Emily rise from the grass. But +nothing that he could say, after hearing the +whole story, could restore them to good humor. +Charlie bit his thumb, and scowled; while Emily, +pushing Jessie from her side, kept rolling +her pocket-handkerchief into a ball, pouted, and +refused to say a word, either to her uncle or +cousin.</p> +<p>In this wretched mood they went in to tea, +sitting at the table like two dark shadows falling +across a room full of sunshine. Everybody +was kind to them. Jessie did her utmost to +restore them to good humor. Uncle Morris +said funny things, hoping to make them smile. +But it was no use. Smile they would not; and +when tea was over, they both slunk away to a +distant part of the room, and kept up their +sulks until bedtime. Even then, when Jessie +tried to kiss Emily, she was rudely pushed aside. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span></p> +<p>“I don’t want to kiss anybody in this house,” +muttered the ugly child; and poor Jessie, +shrinking from her, went to her uncle, laid her +head upon his shoulder, and wept.</p> +<p>“The shoe has begun to find holes in the +stocking,” said Uncle Morris, passing his hand +over Jessie’s head, with great tenderness; “but +never mind, my little puss—cheer up. Your +cousins will leave their bad tempers in the land +of dreams, I hope, and their good-nature will +return with the sun to-morrow morning. Dry +your eyes, my sweet Jessie, and be thankful to +the Father above, that your cousins cannot rob +you of your own sunny temper.”</p> +<p>Jessie did dry her eyes, and looking into her +uncle’s face, said, with a nod of her pretty +head, “Now I know why you sighed; and I +know, too, what your proverb meant.”</p> +<p>“What did I sigh for, puss?”</p> +<p>“Because you knew my cousins had ugly +tempers.”</p> +<p>“That’s so! But the proverb?”</p> +<p>“Meant that when I became better acquainted +with my cousins, I should find out their faults.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span></p> +<p>“Well done, my little puzzle-cracker. You +<i>are</i> good at guessing. But, Jessie, what are +you going to do? How will you treat your +cousins to-morrow?”</p> +<p>Jessie held down her head awhile, as if she +was thinking her way through a difficult idea. +At last she looked up, with eyes full of tenderness, +and with a voice made musical by deep +feeling, said:—</p> +<p>“I will be just as kind to them as I possibly +can!”</p> +<p>“That’s right, my Jessie,” said her uncle, +folding her to his bosom and kissing her forehead, +“that’s right. There is nothing like +kindness for curing ugly children. It’s the best +medicine in the world to give them. Give +it to them, Jessie, in big doses. Maybe they +will like it so well that they will get cured +of their ugliness; for, as the proverb says,—<i>Flies +are caught with syrup; not with vinegar.</i>”</p> +<p>“Wouldn’t it be nice, Uncle Morris, if we +could make my cousins good-natured while +they are here? Wouldn’t Uncle Albert and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +Aunt Hannah be glad if we could send them +home kind, and gentle, and good? Oh, I wish +I could get them to be good, as our Guy did +Richard Duncan. Wouldn’t it be nice?”</p> +<p>“Try to do it, my dear. We will all help +you, and so will the Great Father above,” said +Mrs. Carlton, beckoning Jessie to her side and +giving her a kiss so full of a mother’s holy love +that it sent a thrill of bliss through the happy +heart of her child. Thus like a sunbeam did +Jessie brighten the life of her parents and her +uncle. As she left the room to go to bed, +Uncle Morris followed her with his eyes, and +when her light form had glided up-stairs, he +turned to his sister and said:—</p> +<p>“That child of yours is a treasure, my sister. +I can’t tell you how much her loving little +heart gladdens mine. Why, I have grown at +least fifteen years younger in my feelings since +she came to Glen Morris. Like a glorious +little sun, she shines into the depths of my +heart, melting all the ice of age and chasing +away the gloom of my past sorrows.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Jessie is a lovely child,” replied Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +Carlton. A big tear which dropped upon her +needle-work at that moment showed that the +words of her brother had stirred the deep fountains +of love which were within her heart.</p> +<p>But the two ugly cousins—what were they? +Were they not like two black clouds freighted +with storms, and come to darken the light and +disturb the pleasure of that happy household? +No wonder their sleep was troubled that night. +No wonder Emily awoke in a fright, caused +by the terrible nightmare. But Jessie’s sleep +was sweet and sound, and when her mother +stood over her bed, as she always did before +retiring for the night, Jessie smiled so sweetly +in her slumber that her mother said:—</p> +<p>“Bless her! the smile of a seraph is on her +lips.”</p> +<p>As Uncle Morris foretold, Emily and Charlie +left their sulks in dreamland. It would have +been well if they had left the <i>selfishness</i>, from +which their conduct of the evening before +sprung, in the same place. But that still clung +to them like the leprosy, and though they wore +bright faces, they still carried fireworks in their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +bosom, ready to explode whenever a spark +might happen to touch them.</p> +<p>Jessie greeted her cousins with gentle words +and loving kisses, just as if she had never seen +them in a fit of bad temper. Indeed, she made +no allusion whatever to the affair of the day +before. This silence puzzled the cousins, who +expected, at least, a lecture from Uncle Morris +and a little coldness from Jessie. I think it +also made them feel ashamed, for they could +not help saying to themselves,—</p> +<p>“It was rather mean in us to make such +a fuss as we did yesterday.”</p> +<p>Just after breakfast, while Jessie was showing +Emily her six dolls, neither of which had a +perfect dress, for Jessie never <i>finished</i> any thing, +and Charlie was playing with Guy’s india-rubber +ball in the hall, Hugh plunged in at the +front door, and, rushing into the sitting-room, +said:—</p> +<p>“Jessie, what will you give me if I tell you +a secret?”</p> +<p>“A kiss,” replied Jessie, gathering her lips +into the form of a rose-bud. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></p> +<p>“Pooh! what’s a kiss. I wouldn’t give you +a red cent for a thousand kisses. Won’t you +offer me something better for my secret?” said +Hugh, turning up his nose as if in scorn of +the proffered kiss.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe you have any secret that we +care about knowing,” said Jessie. Then holding +up her best wax doll, she said to Emily, +“Isn’t this a beauty?”</p> +<p>“Yes, but why don’t you coax Hugh to tell +us his wonderful secret?” said Emily, who felt +quite curious to know what Hugh had to tell.</p> +<p>“Oh, he is only teasing us. You don’t know +what a tease he is,” replied Jessie, with an air +of indifference.</p> +<p>“No, honor bright, I’m not teasing. I have +a secret that would make you girls pitch your +dolls into next week, if you knew it,” retorted +Hugh.</p> +<p>“Well, what is it? Do tell us,” said Jessie, +beginning to believe that he had something to +tell worth knowing.</p> +<p>“What will you give me?” asked Hugh, still +bent on tantalizing the girls. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></p> +<p>“I’ve got nothing to give that you want,” +said Jessie, and then in a coaxing tone she +added, “come, Hugh, do tell us, there’s a good, +dear Hugh.”</p> +<p>“No, you don’t come it over me with soft +soap like that,” replied the boy; “I’m not a fly +to be caught with maple molasses.”</p> +<p>“If you was <i>my</i> brother I’d <i>make</i> you tell +me,” said Emily, her eyes sparkling with rising +passion as she spoke.</p> +<p>“You <i>are</i> a spunky little lady, I declare,” +said Hugh, laughing; “but here, Jessie, suppose +you try to <i>guess</i> my secret. It is something +you would give ever so much to know.”</p> +<p>“<i>Really</i>, Hugh, have you a secret, <i>truly</i>?”</p> +<p>“Yes, <i>truly</i>. Honor bright, I tell you. It is +a glorious secret. It will make you ever so +happy to know it.”</p> +<p>“What is it about? Is somebody coming +here? Do tell me, Hugh.”</p> +<p>“Catch a weasel asleep and you’ll catch me +answering questions. But I see you <i>won’t</i> buy, +and you <i>can’t</i> guess my secret, so I’ll be off,” +and in spite of all the entreaties of Jessie and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +the biting speeches which Emily made, master +Hugh left the room, carrying his secret with +him.</p> +<p>Jessie, sighed, and turning to her dolls, said, +“Hugh is a great tease, isn’t he Emily?”</p> +<p>“He’s a great ugly monster!” retorted Emily, +who was in the habit of using strong words, +without much regard to their meaning. “If he +was my brother he shouldn’t tease me so.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Hugh only does it for fun. He is a +dear good brother, after all, only,” and here +Jessie lowered her voice almost to a whisper, +“only I wish he was as good as Guy.”</p> +<p>“<i>For fun</i>, eh? I’d <i>fun</i> him: I’d pull his +hair, and hide away his books, and steal his +playthings, and call that fun, if he was my +brother,” cried Emily.</p> +<p>“Oh, fy! cousin Emily. That would be +wicked fun, and would make both you and +your brother unhappy,” said Guy, who had just +entered the room.</p> +<p>The girls looked on the speaker, who, before +Emily had time to reply, went on to say,—</p> +<p>“Girls, Carrie Sherwood invites you to go +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +nutting with her this afternoon. Richard Duncan, +Norman Butler, Adolphus Harding, Walter, +Hugh, Charlie, you two young ladies, Carrie, +and a young lady or two of her acquaintance, +are to make up the party. Carriages will call +for you at one o’clock. You must get ma to +give you an early dinner, and be ready in time.”</p> +<p>“That is what Hugh meant by his secret. +Oh, I’m so glad,” said Jessie, clapping her +hands. “Won’t it be nice, Emily?”</p> +<p>Emily thought it would. The girls thanked +Guy for his good news, and, springing from the +sofa, started to inform Charlie and Mrs. Carlton +of the proposed party. Charlie was delighted. +Mrs. Carlton knew all about it, because the +whole matter had been quietly arranged a day +or two before by her and Mrs. Sherwood. Carried +away by the idea of this delightful excursion, +Jessie left her six dolls, with their +incompleted dresses, on the sofa, on the chairs, +and on the floor. <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Impulse</span>, the merry little +wizard, had seized her, and she thought of +nothing but the nutting-party the remainder +of the morning.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='III_A_NUTTINGPARTY' id='III_A_NUTTINGPARTY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Nutting-Party.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>A few minutes before one o’clock, a long, +spring market-wagon, drawn by two noble +horses, stopped before the gate of Glen Morris +Cottage. It contained Carrie Sherwood and +her party, all but the Carltons and their visitors. +Mr. Sherwood sat on the driver’s seat. +He went with the young folks to drive, and, as +he quaintly said, “to see that the hawks did not +pounce on his chickens;” by which figure of +speech, I suppose, he meant that he went to +keep the young folks out of danger.</p> +<p>Jessie and her guests, together with Hugh +and Guy, were all waiting when the carriage +drove up. Shouts of welcome greeted them +from the wagon. They gave back cheer for +cheer as they sprang to their places, all but +Charlie, who stood near the front wheel pouting, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +and looking very sulky. Mr. Sherwood, +who had turned half round to watch the seating +of his guests, did not notice the boy, but supposing +the party to be now complete, faced his +team, drew the reins tight, flourished his whip, +and shouted—</p> +<p>“All aboard!”</p> +<p>“Charlie is not aboard yet,” cried Emily.</p> +<p>“Come, Charlie! Jump up here!” shouted +half a dozen voices.</p> +<p>“I don’t want to,” said Charlie, in a drawling +tone.</p> +<p>“Don’t you wish to go, my little fellow?” +asked Mr. Sherwood.</p> +<p>“I want to sit on the coachman’s seat,” simpered +the boy, as he stuffed his finger into his +mouth.</p> +<p>The driver’s seat was not meant for two +persons, and Mr. Sherwood was in doubt +whether to crowd Charlie into it or not. But +seeing from the boy’s manner that he would +spoil the pleasure of the party if he did not, +and being a very indulgent man, he at last +consented. So pulling him up to the footboard, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +he stowed him away by his side, and +cracking his long whip, drove off amidst a volley +of cheers from the boys, the laughter of the +girls, and the waving of handkerchiefs by Mrs. +Carlton and Uncle Morris, from the piazza.</p> +<p>“I want to drive!” muttered Charlie, as soon +as they were fairly started.</p> +<p>“You must eat a little more beefsteak, and +grow a little taller, my boy, before you undertake +to drive such a span as this,” replied Mr. +Sherwood, smiling at the boy’s presumption.</p> +<p>“I <i>will</i> drive!” growled Charlie, grasping +the reins, and giving them a jerk, which +startled the spirited creatures into an uneasy +gallop.</p> +<p>“Whoa there, steady Kate, steady!” said +Mr. Sherwood, removing the boy’s hands and +reining up his team.</p> +<p>After soothing his horses, and bringing them +to a gentle trot again, Mr. Sherwood took his +reins in his right hand, and, grasping Charlie +with his left, suddenly jerked him over the +driver’s seat, into the bed of the wagon, saying,</p> +<p>“Boys! take care of this little coachman!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></p> +<p>This was not so easily done. Charlie’s ugly +temper was up. He tried to scramble back to +Mr. Sherwood’s side, but the larger boys held +him firmly in spite of kicks and blows which he +dispensed without ceremony, until, fairly tired +out, he sat down on the floor of the wagon, +biting his thumbs and looking like a lump of ill-nature. +This display of ugliness spoiled the +pleasure of the drive. It was worse than a +shower of rain, for it threw a black cloud over +the spirits of the party, and made them all +unhappy.</p> +<p>They had not fully recovered their cheerfulness, +when they came to Duncan’s pond, and in +sight of old Joe Bunker’s flagstaff, from the top +of which the stars and stripes proudly floated +in the fine breeze of that October afternoon.</p> +<p>“There’s the bunting you gave old Mr. +Bunker!” observed Guy to his friend Richard.</p> +<p>“Yes, there it is, sure enough, and old Timbertoe +is as proud of it as a little boy is of his +first pair of pantaloons,” said Richard, laughing +at the oddity of his own comparison.</p> +<p>“Or, as Richard Duncan <i>was</i>, of that famous +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +shot from his pea-shooter, which hit Professor +Nailer’s long nose,” said Norman Butler, +chuckling and rubbing his hands, at the recollection +of that exciting scene at the Academy, +a few months before.</p> +<p>“Or, as my sister Jessie is of her Uncle +Morris,” said Guy.</p> +<p>Mr. Sherwood’s loud whoa! whoa! and the +stopping of the horses in front of Joe Bunker’s +barn, put an end to this series of comparisons. +This was the place where they were to leave +the horses; for butternut—trees were quite +numerous in some extensive pastures which +were situated round the shores of Duncan’s +pond. “Old Joe” welcomed the party, and +put up the horses, while the boys pulled out +the baskets from beneath the wagon-seats, and +made ready for the nutting.</p> +<p>But Master Charlie was not yet rid of his +sulks, and would not stir from the wagon. He +wanted to go home, he said; he didn’t care for +nuts, and would not go with his companions. +In vain did his sister entreat, Mr. Sherwood +command, and Jessie try her coaxing powers. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Little Will</span>, the celebrated child-conqueror, +was playing the tyrant over him; and the +unhappy boy gave himself up, hand and foot, to +his enemy. He would not quit the wagon.</p> +<p>“Never mind! leave him where he is, until +his good-nature comes back, if he has any,” +said Mr. Sherwood.</p> +<p>“I am afraid he will get into mischief after +we are gone, if we do that,” said Guy. “Perhaps +I had better stay here and mind him.”</p> +<p>“You shall do no such thing with my consent, +Guy. Go with the rest, and I’ll put this +cross urchin in charge of Mr. Bunker,” replied +Mr. Sherwood. Then turning to the old sailor, +he added:</p> +<p>“Look here, Mr. Bunker! We have a little +bear in our wagon, that don’t seem to like nuts. +Will you keep your eye on him while we go +into the pastures?”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay, Sir,” said Old Joe, giving his +waistband a hitch. “I’ll keep a bright lookout +for him.”</p> +<p>Leaving Charlie under the old sailor’s care, +the party now set out in search of nuts. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +Laughter and pleasant words beguiled both +time and distance, and for the next two hours +they wandered over the pastures, and picked +up an abundance of butternuts, which several +pretty hard frosts, followed by strong breezes, +had scattered plentifully on the ground, or prepared +to fall quite readily from the trees.</p> +<p>In the course of the afternoon, the party +separated into little groups, and when it was +nearly time to return to the wagon, it happened +that Jessie and her cousin, lured by the sight of +a large butternut-tree in the distance, found +themselves apart from all the rest. Near the +tree was an old stone-quarry, with numerous +lakelets in the hollows from which the stone +had been removed. Emily stepped into the +quarry, and looked all around. The lakelets, +swept by the light breeze, charmed her eye, +and turning to her cousin, she cried:</p> +<p>“Jessie, come here! Here are some tiny +ponds. Come look at them!”</p> +<p>Jessie joined Emily, and together the little +girls stepped over the uneven rocks until they +reached one of the lakelets. There they launched +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +small pieces of wood, called them ships, and +stood watching their mimic fleet in great glee.</p> +<p>After spending some time in this way, they +heard the voice of Guy calling:</p> +<p>“Halloo! Halloo! Jessie! Emily! Halloo! +Halloo!”</p> +<p>“We must go,” said Jessie, “I guess they +are going back to the wagon.”</p> +<p>“No, don’t go,” replied Emily. “Let us +frighten them a little—just a little, by making +them think we are lost.”</p> +<p>“Wouldn’t it be funny!” said Jessie, clapping +her hands, and feeling charmed with the +idea of getting up an excitement among her +companions. <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Impulse</span>, the little wizard, had +followed her, even into that old quarry!</p> +<p>“It will be first-rate fun,” said Emily. +“How they will search for us! It will be as +good as a game of hide and seek.”</p> +<p>“Halloo! Halloo! Jessie! Emily! It’s +time to go home! Halloo-o!” shouted Guy +again from the pasture. The wind being fair, +his words were heard quite distinctly by the +two girls.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +<img src='images/illus1.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 402px; height: 570px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 402px;'> +<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie and Emily Sailing Boats in the Quarry.</span> Page 51.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span></div> +<p>“There is a little cave just big enough to hide +in,” said Emily pointing to an excavation in the +highest wall of the quarry. “Let us go into it!”</p> +<p>Still yielding to the voice of the little wizard, +and thinking only of the excitement which was +to follow the supposition she was lost, Jessie +followed her cousin into what she called “a +cave.” There was water at the bottom, but +a flat piece of rock rising above the water +enabled them to get to the back part of their +“cave,” where they were pretty well concealed +from view.</p> +<p>Again the voice of Guy shouted Jessie’s name. +This was now followed by a chorus of voices, +all calling—</p> +<p>“Halloo!—halloo!—halloo-oo-oo!”</p> +<p>The voices drew nearer and nearer, until the +callers stood on the edge of the quarry.</p> +<p>“Where <i>can</i> they be! I’m afraid they are +lost! Oh, dear, what will mother say, if we +have to go home without them!” said Guy, +distinctly enough for Jessie to hear.</p> +<p>“Perhaps they have fallen into some old +well,” suggested Norman. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></p> +<p>“I think not,” said Mr. Sherwood. “I doubt +if there is an old well in all these pastures. +They have most likely wandered back towards +the pond.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see how that can be,” rejoined Guy, +“for I saw them running in this direction half +an hour ago. Besides, we found their basket +under that tree, and they would not have gone +to the pond without telling some of us to bring +their basket.”</p> +<p>“There’s no telling what silly things girls +will do. I guess they are gone to the pond. +Suppose we go and see.”</p> +<p>This was Hugh’s voice, and as no one proposed +any thing else, the party left the quarry, +and, hallooing as they went, directed their steps +towards the pond.</p> +<p>“Let us run after them!” said Jessie, who +now began to feel as if she had carried the joke +far enough.</p> +<p>“Hush! you little coward,” said Emily, placing +her hand over Jessie’s mouth. “They +aren’t half frightened enough about us yet.”</p> +<p>Jessie tried to get her mouth away from her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +cousin’s hand. In doing so she stepped backwards, +and, losing her balance, fell with a splash +into the water.</p> +<p>“Oh!” cried she, in a great fright. But the +water was not deep, and the side of the “cave” +kept her from falling entirely down. Hence, a +thorough fright and wet feet and dress were the +only evil results of her misstep.</p> +<p>“Pooh! what a silly little goose you are,” +said Emily, in a taunting tone of voice. “If +you had done as I told you, you wouldn’t have +got that wetting.”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid I have done too much as you told +me already,” replied Jessie, crying, “and now +I’m going right after our party, as fast as I can.”</p> +<p>With these words Jessie stepped out of the +cave, tripped across the quarry, and ran out +into the open pasture; Emily, not liking to +play “lost child” all alone, followed her. But +their party was no longer either in sight or +within hearing, for an elevation in the ground +rose between them and the two girls.</p> +<p>“Guy! Hugh! Richard! here we are!” +screamed Jessie, at the top of her voice. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></p> +<p>Vainly did she scream, however. The wind +blew the sounds back upon herself, and she +began to run in the direction of the pond.</p> +<p>“Don’t be in such a hurry,” said Emily, +hanging back.</p> +<p>“We <i>must</i> hurry,” replied Jessie, “or we +shall be really lost. See, it’s almost sundown! +And it is so damp and chilly that I am shivering +with cold. Come, Emily, do make haste, +there’s a dear, good cousin.”</p> +<p>“If I am your <i>dear, good cousin</i>, you won’t +drive off and leave me,” retorted Emily, still +lingering and moving only at a snail’s pace.</p> +<p>“Oh dear! what shall I do!” exclaimed +Jessie, looking very wretched, and she certainly +felt as unhappy as she looked.</p> +<p>“Wait for me!” said Emily, “that’s what +you <i>ought</i> to do!”</p> +<p>Thus urging her stubborn cousin, Jessie +pressed forward as fast as she could get her +companion along.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the rest of the party had hastened +towards Joe Bunker’s stand. On their arrival +they found the old sailor at tea in his little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +cottage. Rushing somewhat wildly into the +room, Guy said,—</p> +<p>“Mr. Bunker, have you seen my sister since +we left?”</p> +<p>“Your sister, skipper?” said the old salt. +“Shiver my topsails if I’ve seen any thing in +the shape of a gal, except this old craft of mine +here, since you all left your wagon early this +afternoon.”</p> +<p>“Then she and her cousin are <i>lost</i>,” said +Guy, driving his hands deep down into his +pockets, casting his eyes to the ground, knitting +his brows, and walking out into the open air +again.</p> +<p>“Are they there?” “Has the old cove seen +them?” “What does old Timbertoe say?” +with half a dozen other questions, greeted Guy +as he crossed the threshold.</p> +<p>“Hasn’t seen their shadow. They must be +lost,” replied Guy, doggedly.</p> +<p>“Is that spunky little Canada thistle you call +Charlie in the house?” inquired Mr. Sherwood.</p> +<p>“I didn’t see him. Isn’t he in the wagon?”</p> +<p>“No sign of him that I can see,” replied Mr. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +Sherwood; “but here’s Mr. Bunker—Mr. Bunker, +where is the little boy we left in your +care?”</p> +<p>“I left him making sand-cakes down on the +beach a few minutes ago,” said old Joe.</p> +<p>All eyes were now turned to the beach, but +no Charlie was to be seen. Old Joe looked +uneasy as his eye swept the shore. Very soon +he gave his waistband an unusual hitch, brought +down his wooden leg with great force, and +said:—</p> +<p>“As sure as my name’s Joe Bunker, the +little fellow is gone on a cruise in the Little +Susan!”</p> +<p>“Gone on a cruise? What, alone?” asked +Mr. Sherwood, looking a little pale.</p> +<p>“Yes, alone, or I’m no sailor.”</p> +<p>Down to the shore of the pond they hurried. +Sure enough, the Little Susan was gone. Charlie, +in opposition to Mr. Bunker’s command, +had gone aboard and, sitting amidships, had +rocked her to and fro until her painter had got +loose, and the wind, which blew off shore, had +drifted the boat out on to the pond, where she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +was now visible, with Charlie’s head just above +the bulwarks, steadily setting down towards a +a point about a mile distant.</p> +<p>“To the Point! Make for ‘Long Point!’” +shouted old Joe.</p> +<p>Away ran the boys, with old Joe hobbling +after them, Guy only remaining behind with the +girls and Mr. Sherwood. Charlie’s danger had +for the moment driven all thought of Jessie and +Emily from their minds. Now, however, they +began to consider what was to be done to +recover the lost cousins.</p> +<p>“I see them!” shouted Guy, pointing to the +hill-top in the distance, and starting to meet +them. They were just visible in the distance. +He soon reached them, very much to Jessie’s +relief. Tenderly kissing her he said—</p> +<p>“Where have you been, Jessie?”</p> +<p>“We missed our way, and got lost in the +woods behind that horrid quarry!” said Emily. +“It’s a wonder we ever found the way back +again.”</p> +<p>“Oh, fy—” cried Jessie. She would have +said more, and have contradicted this wretched +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +lie, but Emily put her hand before her mouth +while she poured a long story of pretended adventures +into Guy’s ears. Jessie was shocked. +She thought of her uncle’s sigh, and of his +quaint proverb, and was silent.</p> +<p>It was fairly dark when the Little Susan, +steered by Joe Bunker, with Charlie and the +other boys on board, touched her dock. The +horses being by this time harnessed to the +wagon, the party with their freight of nuts, +were soon rolling homewards. Very little was +said, after Emily, interrupted by frequent +“ohs!” from Jessie, had repeated her lie about +losing their way. All felt that the pleasure of +the occasion had been greatly marred by Charlie’s +conduct; and in spite of Emily’s lie and +Jessie’s silence, they also felt that if Jessie +should speak she would make it appear that +Emily’s story was not exactly true. But the +reader <i>knows</i> that all the shadows which fell +upon that excursion came from the selfishness +of the two visitors from Morristown.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IV_JESSIE_S_GREAT_SORROW' id='IV_JESSIE_S_GREAT_SORROW'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie’s Great Sorrow.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>At the tea-table Emily told a long story about +herself and Jessie wandering away into the +woods, and getting sadly frightened. She was +very animated, and, but for Jessie’s sad face, +and her occasional look of surprise, might have +made herself believed. But that grave face, so +unusual to his darling Jessie, told Uncle Morris +that Emily was palming off a falsehood upon +them. Guy also was sure she was telling a lie. +When she had finished her story, he said,</p> +<p>“But did you not hear us shout and halloo?”</p> +<p>“No, indeed. If we had, we could have +easily answered back,” said the lying child.</p> +<p>“O Emily!” groaned Jessie.</p> +<p>“We shouted like one o’clock!” said Hugh.</p> +<p>“Pray tell us, Master Hugh, what shouting +like one o’clock means?” asked Uncle Morris, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +who had a very great dislike to unmeaning +phrases.</p> +<p>“Well, very loud, then,” replied Hugh, +blushing.</p> +<p>“But you didn’t shout loud enough for us to +hear,” said Emily, secretly pinching Jessie, by +way of imposing silence upon her.</p> +<p>“It’s very strange,” said Guy. “It was certainly +not more than ten minutes from the time we +left the quarry, before we saw you coming over +the top of the hill in the pasture, so that you +could not have been very far in the woods +when we were shouting like—like—”</p> +<p>“Like boys in search of two young ladies supposed +to be lost or <i>hidden</i>,” said Uncle Morris, +helping Guy to a comparison, and at the same +time hinting his suspicions of the truth in the +case.</p> +<p>Jessie blushed deeply and was about to +speak, when Emily, growing fiery red with +anger, said:</p> +<p>“<i>Well</i>, if you don’t choose to believe me, you +needn’t, but I don’t think it’s very polite to talk +to me as if you thought I was telling you a lie.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span></p> +<p>Seeing that her young guest was fast losing +her temper, and that Master Charlie was nodding +over his empty plate and tea-cup, Mrs. +Carlton rose from the tea-table, and addressing +the two girls, said:</p> +<p>“Perhaps, as you are wearied with your +excursion, my dears, you had better retire now, +and finish your talk about it to-morrow, when +you are rested. Come, Charlie, open your eyes +and go to bed!”</p> +<p>“Let me alone!” growled the drowsy boy, +as his aunt took his hand to lift him from his +chair, and lead him from the room.</p> +<p>Jessie sighed, and looked as if she too had a +story to tell when she kissed her Uncle Morris +good-night. The old gentleman returned her +kiss very affectionately, and whispered,</p> +<p>“Jessie, you make me think of the proverb +which says, <i>The day that the little chicken is +pleased, is the very day that the hawk takes hold +of him.</i> Good night, dear!”</p> +<p>Jessie was puzzled, and all the way up-stairs +kept saying to herself, “What can Uncle +Morris mean? what can Uncle Morris mean?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +And while undressing she said still to herself, +“I can’t be the chicken, because I’m not +pleased—but stop—Yes, I was pleased this +morning. Perhaps, then, I’m the chicken. +And the hawk—must—be—well—it must be +Emily! Ah! I see now. He thinks Emily +has made me do some wrong to-day. And +he is right too. It was wrong to hide +away in the quarry. It was worse to pretend +not to hear when the boys called us. +That was <i>acting</i> a lie. And it was wrong for +me to keep still when Emily made up that +wicked story about our getting lost. Oh dear! +Oh dear! How sorry I am! I wish I hadn’t +hid away in the quarry!”</p> +<p>“What makes you look so glum, Miss +Solemn Face?” asked Emily, who, without +kneeling down to say her evening prayer, was +getting ready for bed as fast as her nimble +fingers could move.</p> +<p>“I am thinking that I did wrong to-day,” +replied Jessie, sighing deeply and standing +motionless in the middle of the chamber.</p> +<p>“Fig’s end! I never knew such a girl as you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +are. <i>Wrong</i> indeed! Just as if it was wrong +to have a little fun,” replied Emily, sneering.</p> +<p>“Fun is not wrong; but it was wrong to +alarm Mr. Sherwood and the boys, about our +safety. I know they felt very bad when they +thought we were lost. It was wrong, too, for us +to pretend not to hear when they called us. +That was <i>acting a lie</i>. And oh, Emily! how +<i>could</i> you make up that wicked story, about +our getting lost in the woods!”</p> +<p>Jessie spoke with such deep and solemn +feeling, that Emily’s conscience was touched. +A slight shudder passed over her as she buried +her head in the pillow, and drew the bed-cover +close to her face. Her voice was a little husky, +too, when she replied:</p> +<p>“You are too fussy, by half, Jessie. Good-night!”</p> +<p>“Good-night!” said Jessie; and then dropping +to her knees, beside the big arm-chair, the +well-taught child began to think over the events +of the afternoon. The longer she thought, the +more guilty she felt. She could not say her +prayers, because her sin rose before her mind +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +like a great, black cloud. At last, she began to +weep and sob, saying in half-audible whispers:</p> +<p>“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I wish I +hadn’t made believe I didn’t hear! Oh dear! +oh dear! what shall I do?”</p> +<p>Emily got up a mock snore, by way of saying, +“I’m asleep, and don’t know but that you +are asleep too.” But she was not asleep, nor +did she feel like sleeping in the least. In fact, +she kept peeping over her pillow at Jessie, and +wondering why she felt so bad, until a voice +within her, whispered:</p> +<p>“If Jessie feels bad for yielding to your +wishes, how ought <i>you</i> to feel, who led her +astray, and who told such a shocking lie to +hide your fault? Emily Morris! Emily Morris! +You are a wicked girl!”</p> +<p>Jessie now rose from her knees, bathed in +tears. Wrapping herself in a dressing-gown, +she took the lamp in her hand, left the room, +and went, with slow and heavy steps, down-stairs. +Leaving her lamp on the hall-table, she +went into the parlor. Every eye was lifted +towards her, with inquiring glances. She went +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +directly to that sweetest of all earthly nestling-places +for a child in sorrow, her mother’s arms, +and whispered:</p> +<p>“O mother! I’ve been a naughty girl to-day!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Carlton drew her closer to her heart, +kissed her with great tenderness, and said:</p> +<p>“What has my child done?”</p> +<p>Jessie wept violently, and was silent, for her +heart was too full of emotion, to coin its +thoughts into words. Mrs. Carlton, like a +sensible mother, said nothing until the floods of +Jessie’s grief passed away. Then smoothing +her head with her hand, she spoke in tones, so +soft and lute-like, that they sounded like sweet +music in Jessie’s ears, and said:</p> +<p>“Tell me, my dear, what troubles you so +much?”</p> +<p>Thus soothed, Jessie raised her head, and +said:</p> +<p>“I want Pa and Uncle Morris to hear, too.”</p> +<p>Mr. Carlton laid aside his book, smiled, and +said:</p> +<p>“I’m all attention, Jessie.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span></p> +<p>Uncle Morris drew his chair close to Jessie, +patted her head, and said:</p> +<p>“That’s right, my little puss, make a clean +breast of it. Confession is the pipe through +which the great Father conducts the guilt of +his little ones, when, for his Son’s sake, he +buries it in the fountain of forgetfulness.”</p> +<p>Thus encouraged, Jessie gave a full account +of how she came to hide in the little cave with +Emily. When she had finished her story, Uncle +Morris said—</p> +<p>“Ah, I see, the little wizard has been busy +again. I’m sure it was he who helped Emily +to tempt my little puss. An <i>impulse</i> acted +upon you, Jessie, and, without thinking, you +hid in the cave, which was not a very grave +fault in itself; but, as most little faults will do, +it led you to commit a really serious evil; as +you say, by pretending not to hear yourself +called, you <i>acted a lie</i>, which was a sin against +God. You also filled your party with alarm +about you, which gave them great pain of +mind. That was an offence against them, because +it was your duty to do all in your power +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +to afford them pleasure. The hawk did, indeed, +catch my chicken on the day that she +was pleased. Do you understand my proverb, +now, Jessie?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Uncle, but what shall I do?”</p> +<p>“Do, my child? There is only one way by +which any of us can escape from the chains of +evil. Confess your <i>sin</i> to God, ask his forgiveness +for the Great Shepherd’s sake, and apologize +to your friends for giving them +pain.”</p> +<p>Jessie said she would do both of these things. +Then her heart turned to her cousin, and she +said—</p> +<p>“But what shall I say to Emily?”</p> +<p>“Just tell her your own thoughts and feelings +about the matter, my child. Maybe, she +will be led to see the wrong of her own conduct, +and you may yet be to her what your +brother Guy has been to Richard Duncan.”</p> +<p>After making this remark Uncle Morris took +the old Family Bible and read a psalm of penitence. +Then he and the family kneeled down +to pray. The dear old man seemed to speak +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +right to the Good Father in behalf of his sorrowful +little niece. And while he pleaded the love +of the great Shepherd for his precious lambs, +Jessie felt as if a heavy burden rolled away +from her heart, the big black cloud passed from +before her eyes, and the sweet springs of joy +and gladness once more poured their streams +over her happy spirit.</p> +<p>With a light step, Jessie tripped back to her +chamber. Emily was still awake. Thoughts +such as she had never cherished before were +rushing through her brain and burning in her +heart. She was strongly inclined to speak to +Jessie. But pride set a seal upon her lips, and +she kept her eyes closed in simulated sleep. +As for Jessie, after whispering a prayer for +Emily and a song of praise for herself, she laid +down beside her cousin and slept as sweetly as +a fairy in a blue-bell, or as a weary angel might +slumber in one of the bright bowers of Paradise. +You may be sure her dreamland was +filled with images of love and beauty.</p> +<p>The next morning Jessie awoke wondering +how Emily would feel about the events of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +day before. Finding her cousin was also +awake, she said—</p> +<p>“Emily!”</p> +<p>“Good morning, Jessie,” replied Emily, sitting +up in the bed and looking full in Jessie’s +face. “I hope you feel more cheery than you +did last night.”</p> +<p>“I am very happy this morning,” replied +Jessie, her eyes sparkling with delight as she +spoke. “Shall I tell you how I came to be +so?”</p> +<p>“As you please!” said Emily, shrinking +from Jessie’s proposal as if she feared her story +might bring back the guilty feeling of the night +previous.</p> +<p>Jessie told her cousin just what she had felt, +and how she had confessed her wrong, and how +her sorrow had been rolled away. She did this +so simply, so sweetly, and so kindly, that Emily +blushed, and the big tears stood like dew-drops +on her eyelashes. Jessie had found the way to +her cousin’s heart.</p> +<p>But when she urged her to confess her faults +and to join her in a note of apology to the Sherwoods, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +the pride of Emily’s heart rose within +her, and dashing away her tears, she said—</p> +<p>“<i>Apologize</i>, indeed! I won’t do it!”</p> +<p>Just then the ringing of the first breakfast-bell +warned them that it was time to rise. They +did so; and Jessie, seeing that her cousin did not +wish to talk any more, dressed herself in silence.</p> +<p>After breakfast Jessie went to her writing-desk, +and wrote notes to the members of the +nutting-party. These notes were all alike except +in their different addresses. Here is a +copy of the one for Mr. Sherman.</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<div class='ra'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Glen Morris Cottage</span>, October 25, 18—</p> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Sir</span>—</p> +<p>When you thought I was lost +yesterday, I was hiding with my cousin in a +little cave in the stone quarry. I only did it +for fun. If I had thought my hiding there +would make you feel bad and spoil the pleasure +of our nutting-party, I would not have done it. +I am sorry I did it. Will you, and Walter, and +Carrie, please excuse my fault?</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p>Truly Yours,</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie Carlton.</span></p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mr. Walter Sherwood, Sen.</span></p> +</div> + +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></div> +<p>When Jessie read one of her notes to Uncle +Morris, the good old man patted her head, and +said—</p> +<p>“Nobly and sweetly written, my little puss. +Never forget that next to avoiding a fault, the +noblest and most honorable thing you can do, +is to confess it and apologize for it. Still, I hope +you may never have need to write such a note +again.”</p> +<p>Having finished and sealed her notes, Jessie +placed them carefully in the bottom of her +work-basket, intending to ask Hugh to deliver +them for her on his way to school in the afternoon.</p> +<p>It was Mrs. Carlton’s wish that during her +cousin’s visit, her daughter should spend part +of every morning, sewing and reading. Hence, +after the notes were nicely put away, Jessie +took out her famous piece of patchwork, and +began sewing. She laughed heartily as she did +so this morning, because she found pieces of +paper pinned to the articles intended for Uncle +Morris with these words written on them in +large letters— +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span></p> +<p>“Beware of the devices of the little wizard!”</p> +<p>“Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed she. “Won’t I +beware? I’ll sew, let me see; well, I’ll sew a +strip long enough to go once around my quilt +before I stir, let the little wizard say what he +will.”</p> +<p>Stitch, stitch, stitch, went Jessie’s bright, +swift, little needle for the next half-hour. Then +her two cousins bounced into the room, shouting—</p> +<p>“O Jessie, come and see! There is one of +the funniest little men out here you ever did +see. He’s got no neck, and he wears the +queerest sort of a hat! He’s playing on the +bagpipe. Come, just a minute.”</p> +<p>“Beware of the devices of the little wizard!” +said the writing on the patchwork. It +caught Jessie’s eye just as she was going +to drop her work and run out to see the +funny little man. She felt as if something +was twinging her heart, but remembering +her purpose, she brought her work to her side, +and said— +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></p> +<p>“I thank you, cousins, but you must excuse +me until I’ve finished my sewing.”</p> +<p>“What a cross thing she is!” said Charlie, +bouncing out of the room.</p> +<p>“Do come, just for a minute, that’s all, +cousin Jessie,” said Emily in her most coaxing +tones.</p> +<p>Charlie’s words wounded Jessie more than +Emily’s soothed her. Unwilling to be thought +cross, she dropped her work “just for a minute,” +and went out. The queer little man excited +her mirth greatly, and she soon forgot all +about her patchwork. When the little pipe-player +moved off, Emily said—</p> +<p>“Let us follow him up to Carrie Sherwood’s. +Won’t she be tickled to see him?”</p> +<p>“Yes, do,” said Charlie, “and I won’t call +you cross, Jessie, any more.”</p> +<p>“We mustn’t stay long, then,” replied Jessie +reluctantly, for a thought of her sewing flashed +across her brain.</p> +<p>“Of course, we won’t,” said Emily, as +she took her cousin by the hand and led +her away. “We will only stay long enough +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +to see Carrie laugh at the queer little +man.”</p> +<p>They went to Carrie Sherwood’s, and there +they stayed until Walter’s return from school +warned Jessie that it was nearly dinner-time. +As she re-entered the parlor she saw Uncle +Morris point to her work lying as she left it on +the floor, and heard him say—</p> +<p>“The little wizard has been here again, I see, +this morning. How fond he is of Glen Morris +Cottage.”</p> +<p>Jessie blushed, ran to her Uncle’s side, hid +her face in his bosom, and whispered—</p> +<p>“O Uncle, I never shall conquer that little +wizard. He is too strong for me.”</p> +<p>“Never despair! my little puss. Try and +try again. Make a new resolve, and I’ll warrant +you that the wizard will find Glen Morris +Cottage too hot to hold him one of these days, +and then he’ll be off to the North Pole to keep +cool, and perhaps to marry Miss Perseverance!”</p> +<p>Jessie laughed at this conceit of her uncle’s, +and said— +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span></p> +<p>“Uncle, I will try again, and I’ll try real +hard next time.”</p> +<p>“Nobly spoken, my little lady,” rejoined Mr. +Morris. “Perseverance conquers all things. +It has won victories for warriors; freedom for +oppressed nations; and self-conquest for millions +of men, women, and children. Hold on +to your purpose then, my Jessie, and you will +yet be crowned as the conqueror of your +troublesome little enemy!”</p> +<p>Jessie sighed, and looked as if she wished the +last battle had been fought, and the crown +already placed on her brow.</p> +<p>Poor Jessie! she is not the first miss who has +found it hard work to overcome Little Impulse, +the wizard.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='V_THE_BROKEN_MIRROR' id='V_THE_BROKEN_MIRROR'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Broken Mirror.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>When Jessie saw Hugh getting ready to go +to school, after dinner, she thought of her notes +which were still lying very snugly in her work-basket. +There were four of them: one for +Mr. Sherwood, one for Richard Duncan, one +for Adolphus Harding, and one for Norman +Butler. Taking them from beneath her working +materials, she held them up, and turning +to Hugh, who was on his way to the door, +said—</p> +<p>“Hugh, I want you to do me a little favor!”</p> +<p>“I dare say. You girls are always asking +favors. But what now?”</p> +<p>“Not much, Hugh, I only want you to take +these notes for me.”</p> +<p>“Notes, eh?” said Hugh, taking the neatly +folded letters in his hand, and reading the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +addresses. After reading them all aloud, he +placed them in a pack and added. “Pretty +business, I think, for a young lady like you to +be writing to the boys? Oh, for shame, Jessie +Carlton! I thought you were too modest to do +that!”</p> +<p>“There’s nothing improper in my notes, master +Hugh! Uncle Morris read one of them, and +he says they are very sweet and proper. Will +you please take them for me?”</p> +<p>“Yes, if you will pay me the postage on +them. You know that Uncle Sam gets his pay +beforehand, and I must have mine. So hand +me over twelve cents, and I’ll carry your notes. +Come, be quick! Hand over your money! It +is time I was gone.”</p> +<p>“O Hugh, don’t tease so,” said Jessie.</p> +<p>“Do you call it <i>teasing</i> to ask for your pay +when you are going to work for anybody!” +asked Hugh, with a very tantalizing air.</p> +<p>Just then Guy passed through the parlor, +and seeing that Jessie was getting tired with +her vexatious brother, he asked what was the +matter. She told him. He took the notes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +from Hugh, who was only too glad to give +them up, and said—</p> +<p>“I’ll take them for you, Jessie.”</p> +<p>“You are a dear, good brother, and I love +you ever so much,” said Jessie, holding up her +lips for a kiss.</p> +<p>Guy kissed his sister and hurried away to +school, happy in the thought that he was contributing +to her pleasure, while Hugh went out +with a cold, uneasy heart, and murmuring to +himself—</p> +<p>“I don’t see why I should wait all the time +on Miss Jessie; she’s big enough to carry her +own letters.”</p> +<p>Could Hugh have exchanged feelings with +Guy, he would have learned that little acts of +love and kindness bring rich returns into the +hearts of those who perform them; and then, +perhaps, he would have seen at least one reason +why he should “wait all the time on Miss +Jessie.”</p> +<p>It happened that afternoon to blow up cold +and rainy, so that Jessie and her young guests +could not play out of doors. The bright fire in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +the grate tempted them into the parlor, where +they amused themselves in various ways. At +last, wearied with quiet games, master Charlie +said—</p> +<p>“Let us play blind-man’s-buff?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, do, Jessie! It’s such good fun,” +said Emily.</p> +<p>“I like it first rate,” said Jessie. “Who will +be blind-man first?”</p> +<p>“I will,” said Emily, in a very positive tone +of voice.</p> +<p>“No, you won’t, either, I shall be blind-man +first,” said Charlie.</p> +<p>“Well, I say you <i>shan’t</i>. There now!” cried +Emily, stamping the floor with her little foot.</p> +<p>“But I tell you I <i>will</i>!” retorted Charlie +with anger.</p> +<p>“Hush! Charlie dear,” said Jessie, in soothing +tones. “Let Emily be blind-man first, for, +you know, polite boys always give way to +young ladies.”</p> +<p>“Well, I won’t, I don’t want to be polite, I +want to be blind-man first, and I <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>WILL</span>,” rejoined +Charlie, as the fire flashed from his eyes. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></p> +<p>“Then I won’t play at all,” said Emily, going +to an ottoman and seating herself in a very +sulky mood.</p> +<p>Thus did these unamiable cousins spoil their +own pleasure, and give pain to Jessie by their +selfish quarrel. In vain did she try to soothe +and coax them into good-nature for some time. +At last, tired of the attempt, she rose up, and +said—</p> +<p>“Well, if you won’t play, I’ll go into the +library and have a good talk with my Uncle +Morris.”</p> +<p>This movement made Emily feel slightly +ashamed of herself. She was unwilling, too, to +be left alone with her brother. So she jumped +up, and with a forced smile, said—</p> +<p>“Don’t go, Jessie, I’ll let Charlie be blind-man.”</p> +<p>“I’ve a great mind not to play with you at +all now,” growled Charlie.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, do, there’s a dear, good Charlie,” +said Jessie, as she approached him, “See! here +is the handkerchief, let me tie it over your eyes +so that you won’t be able to see the least bit of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +a mite! I don’t think you will be able to catch +me before tea-time.”</p> +<p>This challenge did more to drive the sulks out +of Charlie than the coaxing. Charles held his +head forward to be bound, while he replied—</p> +<p>“Can’t I catch you! I’ll bet a dollar I catch +you in less than five minutes!”</p> +<p>“Young ladies <i>don’t bet</i>, and Uncle Morris +says that boys <i>shouldn’t</i>, because it’s wicked,” +said Jessie, while she busied herself tying the +handkerchief. When the knot was fast, she +said—</p> +<p>“Now let us see how skilful my cousin +Charlie can be!”</p> +<p>Up jumped Charlie, spreading out his arms, +and darting now this way and then that, as the +steps and voices of the girls led him round the +room. Merrily rang out the laugh of Jessie, +and the ohs and ahs of her cousin, as they +bounded past Charlie, ran round him, or darted +out of the reach of his nimble fingers. So spry +were they, that ten minutes elapsed and the +blinded boy had not caught either of them. +At last, he followed them close to one end of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +the parlor until he found himself clasping the +large mirror which reached almost to the floor. +Stepping back he tripped over a low ottoman, +fell backwards, and bumped his head. Half in +vexation, and half in sport he threw up his +heels, and just as Jessie cried, “Mind the glass, +Charlie!” brought down his legs with a crash +on the surface of the mirror.</p> +<p>“Oh dear! He has broken the big mirror!” +cried Jessie, in great distress. “What will my +father say!”</p> +<p>“Keep still, you stupid, mischievous boy!” +said Emily as she tried to pull the bandage +from Charlie’s eyes.</p> +<p>“I couldn’t help it!” said he, as rising to his +feet, and rubbing his eyes, he stood staring on +the ruin his feet had wrought on the lower half +of the mirror.</p> +<p>“My pa paid a good deal of money for that +mirror,” said Jessie, “and he will be very +angry with us, when he comes home to-night. +I’m <i>so</i> sorry.”</p> +<p>“That’s just like you, you stupid little +monkey,” said Emily, shaking Charlie somewhat +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +rudely by the shoulder. “You are +always doing some outrageous thing or another!”</p> +<p>“I couldn’t help it! Let me alone!” muttered +Charlie, shaking his sister’s hand from his +shoulder.</p> +<p>“You <i>could</i> help it,” replied Emily.</p> +<p>“There, take that!” said Charlie, striking his +sister a heavy blow on the shoulder with his +fist.</p> +<p>Emily was about to strike back, but Jessie +stepped between them, and separating them, +said:</p> +<p>“O Emily! don’t strike your brother! It’s +<i>so</i> wicked, you know, for brothers and sisters to +fight.” Then turning to Charlie, she added, +“Don’t you know how mean it is for a boy to +strike a girl? Boys should protect girls, and +not beat them. If you hit Emily again, I shall +not be able to love you any more.”</p> +<p>Charlie turned away, and seating himself in +a chair, began to suck his thumb, while he +gazed on the broken glass which was spread +over the carpet. Just then, old Rover, finding +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +the parlor door ajar, pushed it open, and walked +up to his young mistress, wagging his tail, +and rubbing her hand with his nose, which was +his way of saying, “I hope you are glad to see +me, this afternoon.”</p> +<p>Jessie patted his head, and sat down wearing +a very grave face. Rover thought something +was amiss, but not knowing how to +inquire into the matter, after a few more rubs +of his nose upon his little lady’s hand, laid +down, and looked wistfully into her eyes.</p> +<p>Rover’s presence put a new idea into the evil +mind of Emily. She turned it over silently a +few moments, and then said:</p> +<p>“Jessie! I have just thought of a capital +way of getting out of this scrape about the +mirror.”</p> +<p>“Have you?” replied her cousin. “I don’t +see how you can do that, unless you can get +some fairy to mend it for us, and I guess there +are no good fairies, to do such things for +unlucky girls and boys, now-a-days.”</p> +<p>“<i>Fairies</i> indeed!” retorted Emily with a +sneer. “I don’t believe in <i>fairies</i>. My plan is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +to tell your mother, that while Rover was playing +with us, he bounced against the mirror, +and broke it to smash.”</p> +<p>“O Emily! I would not tell such a wicked +story to save my life!” rejoined Jessie.</p> +<p>“Well, I would; I’ve got out of many a bad +scrape, by fixing up some such story as that. +And it is so <i>natural</i>, you see, for a big dog to +bounce against a glass which is so near the floor +as this one, that your folks will easily believe +it.”</p> +<p>“O Emily! Emily! How can you talk so?” +said Jessie, gazing at her cousin with an expression +of pity and surprise.</p> +<p>“She talks just right,” said Charlie. “It’s a +first-rate story, and will get us out of the scrape +nicely. Bravo, Emily! I won’t hit you again +for ever so long.”</p> +<p>Jessie was horror-struck to hear her cousins +talk in this cool and hardened manner. To her +mind a lie was of all things the most mean and +wicked. She had just shown her hatred of it, +by her penitence for merely acting a lie in fun. +But this proposal to tell a downright lie, for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +purpose of escaping the consequences of an +unlucky accident, looked like asking her to +commit a very shocking crime. She felt a +shudder creep over her, and shrinking from her +cousins, as if they had been deadly serpents, +she pushed her chair back a yard or two, and +said:</p> +<p>“Emily, I would die before I would tell such +a lie. I hope you won’t think of doing it. It’s +<i>so</i> wicked, Emily. If you could deceive my pa +and ma, you couldn’t deceive God, who saw +Charlie break the mirror. Don’t do it, Emily, +please don’t?”</p> +<p>“We will do it too, and if you peach on us, +we’ll say it was your fault that Rover did it. +How will you like that, Miss Jessie!” said +Charlie.</p> +<p>“I will tell my father the exact truth about +it,” said Jessie, rising to her feet.</p> +<p>“Very well, Miss Tell Tale,” retorted Emily. +“We’ll fix you then. Charlie and I will say +that you threw the ottoman against the mirror, +and broke it yourself, won’t we, Charlie?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and they will believe both of us, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +because they will think you are lying to escape +being whipped for your fault. Ah! ah! Miss +Jessie, we’ll fix you, see if we don’t!” and +Charlie held up his finger, and grinned in his +cousin’s face.</p> +<p>“My father knows I wouldn’t tell a lie,” +replied Jessie firmly; “and I do hope you +won’t, for oh! it is <i>so</i> wicked, and <i>so</i> mean. +Nobody loves, trusts, or believes a liar. Please +Charlie, please Emily, let me tell pa just how it +happened. He won’t be very angry. I know +he won’t. But if he is, I will tell him to whip +me, instead of scolding Charlie.”</p> +<p>Charlie winced under this noble speech of +Jessie’s, and for a moment was inclined to +yield. But his sister’s temper was roused, and +she urged him to stick to her, and to say that +Jessie threw the ottoman, “and now,” said she, +“I will go and tell my aunt directly.”</p> +<p>Jessie turned pale; not with fear for herself, +but because she shrank from a conflict with her +cousins, in her mother’s presence. Fortunately, +a happy thought came into her mind, and +rising, she whispered to herself, “Yes, I will go +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +and ask Uncle Morris to come in.” And Jessie +glided into the library.</p> +<p>Her uncle was not there. He had left it an +hour before, and feeling slightly dozy had gone +into the back parlor to catch a little nap on the +sofa. This parlor was separated from the one +in which the children had been playing only +by folding-doors. Their noise at blind-man’s-buff, +had roused him from his nap, and he had +heard all that afterwards passed between them. +When, therefore, Emily went to tell Mrs. Carlton +her great lie, he thought it was time for +him to interfere. So he passed round by the +hall into the front parlor, just as Jessie with +her sad face was returning from the library.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m so glad you are here, Uncle Morris!” +exclaimed Jessie, her face brightening and +growing much shorter. “Please come into the +parlor.”</p> +<p>The good old man kissed his niece with even +unusual tenderness, and led her into the parlor.</p> +<p>“Hoity toity!” cried he, as he looked on the +fragments of the broken mirror. “Somebody’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +been playing the mischief here. What’s been +the matter?”</p> +<p>“Jessie did it!” said Charlie, with a dogged air.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir! Jessie threw an ottoman at me, +and it struck the mirror. Didn’t she, Charlie?” +said Emily, coming up to Uncle Morris, with +Mrs. Carlton behind her.</p> +<p>“Yes, Jessie did it, and no mistake!” said +Charlie, boldly.</p> +<p>“O Jessie! how could you be so careless! +That mirror cost a hundred dollars, a few +months ago. Your father will feel very angry,” +said Mrs. Carlton with a grieved look.</p> +<p>“I did not break it, Ma!” said Jessie calmly.</p> +<p>“She did!” “She did!” said Charlie and +his sister in the same moment.</p> +<p>“Ma, I did not break the mirror,” rejoined +Jessie, calmly. “If I had done it, I would +confess it. You know I wouldn’t lie, Mother, +don’t you?”</p> +<p>“I certainly have great faith in your truthfulness, +my child,” replied Mrs. Carlton; “but +why are your cousins so positive in charging +you with it?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span></p> +<p>Jessie stated the facts just as they had taken +place. Her cousins repeated their story. Mrs. +Carlton was perplexed. Turning to Uncle +Morris, she said:</p> +<p>“Brother, what do you think? On which +side is the truth?”</p> +<p>“On Jessie’s, of course, sister. Could you +question the truth of that pure face! It would +break my heart if Jessie could tell such a lie as +these wicked ones here have told! But she +couldn’t do it. It’s not in her nature to do it. +Heaven bless her!”</p> +<p>He then stated what he had overheard from +the sofa in the back parlor, and closed by +saying, “These children had better go home +to-morrow. They are wicked enough to corrupt +an angel, almost. The proverb says, <i>eggs +ought not to dance with stones</i>, and I cannot +endure to see Jessie in their society any +longer.”</p> +<p>“I agree with you, brother, and will send +them home to-morrow,” replied Mrs. Carlton.</p> +<p>Charlie and Emily were dumb with confusion +and shame. I think a little sorrow gushed up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +in Emily’s heart, when through her fingers she +saw Jessie look with appealing and tearful eyes +into Uncle Morris’s face, and heard her say in +pleading tones:</p> +<p>“O Uncle! O Mamma! please let them stay +another week; please do, for my sake! Please +let them stay! They will be good after this, I +know they will.”</p> +<p>This plea won both Mrs. Carlton’s and the +old man’s consent, and Jessie kissing her +cousins, said:</p> +<p>“There, you can stay. Aren’t you glad?”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VI_THE_FIRST_SLIDE_OF_THE_SEASON' id='VI_THE_FIRST_SLIDE_OF_THE_SEASON'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The First Slide of the Season.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>After Uncle Morris and Mrs. Carlton had +consented to permit the self-willed cousins to +remain a week longer at Glen Morris, the +good old man led Emily into the library and +talked with her for over half an hour, about the +meanness and wickedness of lying. I cannot +tell you exactly what he said to her, because I +don’t know. That his words were weighty and +solemn, I have no doubt; for when Emily left +the library her eyes were red with weeping, and +she went directly to her room and staid there +alone until the bell called her to tea.</p> +<p>Before Emily slept that night, she did what +she had not done before during her stay at Glen +Morris. She kneeled at the bedside to say her +prayers. When she arose, Jessie threw an arm +around her waist and kissed her. This was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +done with so much tenderness, that Emily felt +it to be a sign of her cousin’s sympathy with +the new feelings and thoughts which were +springing up within her heart. Returning the +kiss, she said:</p> +<p>“I’m sorry I told that lie about you to-day, +Jessie.”</p> +<p>“So am I,” replied the simple-hearted girl; +“it is always best to tell the truth, and I hope +you will never tell another story as long as you +live.”</p> +<p>“I won’t, I’m resolved I won’t; I told Uncle +Morris so this afternoon, and (here she lowered +her voice to a whisper) I’ve been asking God to +help me keep my promise.”</p> +<p>“That’s the way! That’s the way!” replied +Jessie. “Uncle Morris says if we mean to be +good we must go to school to the Great Teacher +who will both teach us, and help us do the +lesson.”</p> +<p>With such words as these did Jessie encourage +her cousin to enter that beautiful path in +which all the pure, noble, and good children in +the world are found. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span></p> +<p>The next day Emily was very quiet. She +spent the morning helping Jessie work on her +famous quilt. Charlie was as rude and as ugly +as ever; having teased his sister for a long time +in vain, to play out of doors with him, the +spoiled boy hissed at her, and said, “You are +an ugly old cat!” Then slamming the door +after him, he went into the barn-yard, where +the screaming of the pigs, the gabble of the +geese, and the clucking of the hens, soon proclaimed +that he was venting his ill-temper on +the dumb creatures who had their home there. +Poor Charlie! the indulgence of his mother, +and the almost constant absence of his father +from home, had made him a very unhappy, +mischievous boy, if, indeed, it had not wholly +spoiled him. If Charlie had known what was +best for him he would have said to his friends,</p> +<p>“Please don’t let me have my own way.”</p> +<p>Emily needed to make the same request, for +she too, had long done pretty much as she +pleased; and, as we have seen, she was <i>pleased</i> +to do some very bad things.</p> +<p>Two days before the time set for the cousins +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +to return home, they went to spend the day +with Carrie Sherwood. Jessie, who was to join +them after her morning’s sewing was done, sat +down to her work in high spirits. The quilt +had grown large within a few days, and as she +took it up this morning, she said:</p> +<p>“The little Wizard hasn’t been able to catch +me for ever so many days. I guess he won’t +trouble me much more now. See my quilt! +(here she stood up, and drawing the quilt from +the basket, spread it out.) Two more rows of +patchwork will finish it. Ha! ha! only two +more; I’m so glad. And won’t Uncle Morris +be pleased when he sees it spread over his bed +some night! ha! ha!”</p> +<p>Here Jessie sat down and began to make her +bright little needle fly almost as swiftly as if +it had been in a sewing-machine. While she +sewed she hummed the following words, which, +as Uncle Morris said, had more truth in them +than poetry:</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“I love to do right,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.735835172921266em;'>And I love the truth,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And I’ll always love them,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.735835172921266em;'>While in my youth.</p> +<br /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span></div> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“And when I grow old,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.735835172921266em;'>And when I grow gray,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I will love them still,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.735835172921266em;'>Do wrong who may.”</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>Having finished her song, Jessie rested her +hands on her lap a moment, and said:</p> +<p>“I love those words, I do. When I grow +<i>gray</i>! ha! ha! Jessie Carlton a little old +woman with <i>gray hair</i>! Won’t it be funny? +I wonder if everybody will love me then as +everybody loves Uncle Morris now. Why +not? Everybody?—no, not <i>everybody</i>, for +Charlie don’t love him, and our Hugh don’t +love him much. That’s because they are naughty, +though. Well, every good person loves +Uncle Morris, because he is so good and kind; +and so, if I am good and kind, when I am a +little, gray old woman, everybody will love me. +Ha! ha! Won’t it be nice to be called Aunt +Jessie, and to be loved, oh, so well!—but I +must go on with my sewing.”</p> +<p>Tap, tap, tap, said somebody’s knuckles on +the door.</p> +<p>“Come in,” cried Jessie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span></p> +<p>The door opened. Carrie Sherwood’s little, +red, round, laughing face peeped in.</p> +<p>“O Carrie! is that you? Come in.”</p> +<p>Carrie tripped in, and while her eyes flashed +with excitement, she said:</p> +<p>“O Jessie, we have found a nice slide out on +the edge of the brook. It is the first time the +ice has frozen hard enough to bear this fall, and +we are having such a nice time. Come and see +it, just for a moment.”</p> +<p>“A slide!” exclaimed Jessie, who dearly loved +sliding. “Oh, I’m so glad. I’ll go with you just +to look at it. I can’t stay, you know, because I +must come back and sew until twelve o’clock.”</p> +<p>Dropping her sewing, Jessie ran to a closet, +equipped herself in cloak and hood and, taking +Carrie’s hand, trotted out to see this first slide +of the season.</p> +<p>A short distance from Glen Morris Cottage a +broad, shallow brook crossed the public highway. +A bridge led over the brook. Along the +sides of the buttresses of this bridge, the water +had flowed back for several yards over the +bottom of a ditch or hollow, and being only an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +inch or two in depth, the sharp frosts of the +early days of November had frozen it solid, +though the brook itself was still babbling as if +in proud defiance of the frost-king.</p> +<p>To this ditch Carrie led Jessie. Emily and +Charlie were already there enjoying themselves +finely.</p> +<p>“Isn’t it nice?” said Carrie when they had +fairly reached the spot.</p> +<p>“You shan’t come on to my slide,” growled +selfish Charlie.</p> +<p>“Nor on to mine,” cried his sister.</p> +<p>“You will let us slide after you, won’t you, +Emily?” asked Jessie.</p> +<p>“No, I want this slide all to myself,” replied +Emily.</p> +<p>“You can go down the brook and find slides +for yourselves. You shan’t use ours,” cried +Charlie, as shaking his fist at the two girls, he +added, “I’ll lick you both if you don’t keep off.”</p> +<p>“Well, I never saw any thing so selfish as +that before, I declare,” said Carrie Sherwood, +striking the ground with her foot, and looking +very angry as she spoke. “The next time I invite +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +them to spend the day at my house they +shall certainly know it.”</p> +<p>“Oh, never mind, never mind,” said Jessie. +“We can look at them, and that will be almost +as good as sliding ourselves. Perhaps they +will get tired presently, and then we can slide +while they rest.”</p> +<p>“No, we shan’t get tired either, Miss Jessie,” +retorted Charlie. “We mean to slide until +dinner-time.”</p> +<p>“And then you expect to eat dinner at <i>my</i> +house, I suppose. Really, you are a very generous +boy!” replied Carrie, in a bitter tone of +voice.</p> +<p>“’Taint <i>your</i> house. It’s your father’s. He!” +said the ugly boy, grinning at his young hostess.</p> +<p>“Well, if you were not Jessie’s cousins, you +should never step inside of my house again—but +here comes my brother. He’ll <i>make</i> you +let me slide.”</p> +<p>Walter Sherwood now came up to the spot +where his sister and Jessie stood. Carrie told +him the story of the selfishness of the two +cousins, and ended by saying: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span></p> +<p>“Won’t you compel them to let us slide too, +Walter?”</p> +<p>“If he touches me, I’ll throw this big stone +at him,” growled Charlie, looking very ugly +and holding up a large stone, which he had just +taken up from the side of the ditch. Wasn’t he +a selfish little fellow?</p> +<p>“Please don’t touch him,” entreated Jessie. +“I don’t care much about sliding, and Carrie +won’t mind waiting until to-morrow. Will +you, Carrie dear. The weather is so cold, there +will soon be plenty of ice. Please don’t hurt +Charlie, Walter.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be alarmed, my sweet Jessie,” replied +Walter, laughing. “I don’t want to touch +your sting-nettle of a cousin. I’d about as lief +grapple a hedgehog. Let him and his selfish +sister have their slides all to themselves. You +come with me. I know where there is far +better sliding than this, and I came on purpose +to tell you so. Come, let us go, and leave them +to enjoy their slides, if such selfish creatures +can enjoy any thing.”</p> +<p>“Please Walter, let my cousins go with us,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +whispered Jessie in Walter’s ear, as he took her +hand.</p> +<p>“No, no, Jessie, I can’t consent to that. +They won’t be a whit happier there than here, +and if we do take them with us, they will only +spoil our fun. I never saw two such thorns in +my life. You can’t go near them, but they +scratch you right off.”</p> +<p>“They are going home, the day after to-morrow, +and I’m glad of it,” cried Carrie, as she +stepped up the bank after her brother and Jessie.</p> +<p>“So am I,” said Walter, “and I’m thinking +there will be plenty of dry eyes at Glen Morris +Cottage, when they go away. What do you +say to that, Jessie?”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry my cousins are so selfish,” replied +Jessie, “but Charlie is the worst. I think if +Emily was here without him, she would soon +be a good girl.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps so. Yet I’m inclined to think +you’ll see apples growing on that old hickory +yonder, before she becomes <i>good</i>, as you call it. +But let us hurry into the pasture. Here, +Jessie, mount these bars?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span></p> +<p>As he spoke, Walter leaped over the rail-fence +of a pasture, and giving his hand to +Jessie, she mounted the top bar.</p> +<p>“Now jump!” cried Walter.</p> +<p>Jessie did as she was told. Carrie followed. +Then Walter led them along the pasture, until +they struck a bend in the brook where the +water having flowed over a flat basin, was very +shallow. Along the edge of this basin the +water was frozen hard.</p> +<p>“Isn’t this nice?” shouted Jessie, as she slid +over the glass-like surface.</p> +<p>“It’s perfectly beautiful,” replied Carrie, +gliding along in an opposite direction.</p> +<p>Walter made a slide for himself, just in front +of the girls, and being all brim-full of good-nature, +they enjoyed themselves finely. But +there were two shadows that flashed on Jessie’s +joy now and then. The first was the image of +the quilt she had left on the parlor-floor; the +second was her regret that her cousins were so +ugly. When the former image flitted before +her, a little voice in her breast whispered,</p> +<p>“In the chains of the little wizard again, eh?”</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +<img src='images/illus2.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 409px; height: 567px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 409px;'> +<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie and Carrie Enjoying a Slide.</span> Page 105.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span></div> +<p>Then Jessie would sigh, look very sober, and +pause, saying to herself, “I really must go +home and sew.”</p> +<p>Before her purpose was fairly formed, however, +Walter or Carrie would cry out, “What, +getting tired already! You are not half a +slider.”</p> +<p>“Just once more, and then I’ll go,” Jessie +would say to herself. But before that one more +slide was through, she would purpose to add yet +another. Thus time fled until the morning was +almost gone, and the quilt, the little wizard, +Uncle Morris, and even the ugly cousins, were +nearly forgotten, in the excitement of this +pleasant sport.</p> +<p>This delight was, however, brought to an end +by a loud scream, followed by a shrill voice +crying, “Charlie! <i>Charlie!</i> <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Charlie!</span> You’ll +be drowned! Oh dear! Oh dear!”</p> +<p>This was followed by another scream. Walter +guessed what was the matter at once. He +knew that near where the cousins were sliding, +the trunk of a tree formed a sort of bridge +over the brook, and enabled the cow-boys to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +pass dry-shod in summer. When the brook +was low, it was a safe enough bridge, but when +it was full as it was then, it was what the boys +called “a pokerish place to cross.” He surmised +at once, that Charlie was frightening his +sister, by attempting to walk across the brook +on this rough and narrow bridge. So he told +the girls, and then they all ran towards the spot +from whence the cry came.</p> +<p>A few minutes’ run brought them in sight of +Master Charlie standing erect on the tree, right +over the middle of the brook. Emily was +standing at the water’s edge, screaming, and +begging him to come back.</p> +<p>“Stop your screaming, you coward, or I’ll +lick you till you are dumb,” shouted the wilful +boy, shaking his fist at his sister, as Walter and +the two girls came up, on the other side of the +brook.</p> +<p>Emily seeing them approach, called out to +Walter, and said:</p> +<p>“Do make him come off that dreadful log, +will you?”</p> +<p>“I’d like to see anybody <i>make</i> me come off,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +said Charlie. As he spoke, he turned round to +see who had come. In doing this his foot +slipped, and losing his balance, he fell backwards +into the brook.</p> +<p>The girls both screamed, for they were in great +terror. Walter, however, laughed heartily, and +said:</p> +<p>“Don’t be frightened! The water isn’t deep +enough to drown the little fury. I hope it’s +cold enough to cool his courage, though.”</p> +<p>As he spoke, Walter rolled up his pants, and +then kicking off his boots, he waded into the +brook and led Charlie ashore. The little fellow +spluttered and shivered, but said nothing. The +water had cooled his courage, and for the +present, his ugliness had all subsided. They +led him back to Glen Morris as quickly as +possible, to get a change of clothes.</p> +<p>This mishap broke up their plan of dining +and spending the afternoon with Carrie Sherwood. +Thus the selfishness of the two cousins, +again robbed both themselves and their friends +of a promised pleasure. As for poor little +Jessie, she drew down her face and looked very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +sad, as she put her quilt into the basket, when +the bell rung for dinner. Sighing deeply she +said half-aloud,</p> +<p>“Conquered again. It <i>is</i> no use. The little +wizard <i>is</i> my master, and I won’t try to resist +him any more. What’s the use of trying?”</p> +<p>“Tut, tut, tut! No use in trying, eh? Who +says so?”</p> +<p>Jessie looked up, and her eyes met the pleasant +smile of Uncle Morris, who had entered the +room, in his usual quiet way, unobserved by +the dispirited girl. She gave him back no +answering smile, but drooping her head, stood +silently before him. Seeing her sadness and +knowing the cause, Uncle Morris said:</p> +<p>“Jessie, will you please be a school-ma’am +for a moment, and let me recite my lesson to +you?”</p> +<p>Jessie smiled a faint smile, but said nothing.</p> +<p>“Well, silence gives consent, I suppose. So +I will recite my lesson. It is a fable and runs +thus:</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“Two robin redbreasts built their nests</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 2.57542310522443em;'>Within a hollow tree;</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span></div> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>The hen sat quietly at home,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 3.67917586460633em;'>The male sang merrily;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And all the little robins said,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 3.67917586460633em;'>‘Wee, wee, wee, wee, wee, wee.’</p> +<br /> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>One day—the sun was warm and bright,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 3.67917586460633em;'>And shining in the sky—</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Cock Robin said, ‘My little dears,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 3.67917586460633em;'>‘Tis time you learn to fly;’</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And all the little young ones said,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 3.67917586460633em;'>‘I’ll try, I’ll try, I’ll try.’</p> +<br /> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“I know a child, and who she is</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 3.67917586460633em;'>I’ll tell you by and by,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>When mamma says, ‘Do this’ or ‘that,’</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 3.67917586460633em;'>She says, ‘What for?’ and ‘Why?’</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>She’d be a better child by far,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 3.67917586460633em;'>If she would say, ‘<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>I’ll try</span>.’”</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>When Uncle Morris paused, tears stood in +Jessie’s eyes, and a bright smile played round +her lips. Putting her hand into his, she said:</p> +<p>“And I’ll try, too, Uncle. I’ll try till I conquer.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VII_JESSIE_S_FIRST_GREAT_VICTORY' id='VII_JESSIE_S_FIRST_GREAT_VICTORY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie’s First Great Victory.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>After dinner Jessie went to her room and sat +awhile, on a cricket with her head leaning on a +chair. She was thinking. I cannot tell you +exactly what passed in her mind, while she was +in that brown study, because she never told me. +You can guess, however, when I tell you that +after thinking some five minutes, she rose up, +and going to her table, took a pencil and wrote +these words in big letters, on a sheet of note +paper:</p> +<p>“I will not go out to play again until I have +finished my quilt. This is my strong resolution, +and I mean to keep it, in spite of the little +wizard that tempts me so. He has beaten me +a great many times, but he shan’t do it again, as +true as my name is Jessie Carlton.”</p> +<p>Taking the paper from the table, Jessie held +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +it between her finger and thumb, read it, and +then left the room, saying to herself—</p> +<p>“There, that’s a good resolution. I’ll keep it +in sight all the time; and if the little wizard +comes near me, I’ll spear him with it just as +Uncle Morris says the fairies pierce the gnats +with their bodkins. Let me see. How long +will it take to finish my quilt? Only two more +rows of squares to sew on. Well, I can sew +one row this afternoon and the other to-morrow +morning. Oh good! I’ll ask ma to get it into +the quilting-frame to-morrow afternoon, and +have it finished while I work the slippers. +Won’t it be nice if the quilt and slippers are +both ready by Christmas! Perhaps I can get +the watch-pocket done too. Well, I’ll try, see +if I don’t. I <i>can</i> conquer little Impulse if I try, +and I <i>will</i>. You shall see if I don’t, you dear, +good Uncle Morris, you.”</p> +<p>All this was said as Jessie walked down-stairs. +She looked very pleasantly, and trod the carpet +with a very firm step, as she went to her cosy +little chair in front of the bright fire which +glowed in the grate that November afternoon. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +She was slightly chilled through sitting in +her chamber, but without stopping to get +warm, she took up her work, and began to ply +her needle in good earnest.</p> +<p>Half an hour passed and Jessie was still busy +as a bee over her quilt. Then her uncle entered +the room with his outside coat nicely buttoned +up to his chin, and his hat in his hand. He +was equipped for a walk.</p> +<p>“Jessie, will you take a walk with your poor +old uncle this fine afternoon?” said he.</p> +<p>This was offering one of the strongest of +possible temptations to Jessie. A walk with +Uncle Morris was to her a very great pleasure. +Impulse whispered “Let the quilt go, and accept +your uncle’s offer!” Jessie’s arms were +even put forth in the act of dropping her work, +when her eye rested on her written resolution, +which she had pinned on the top edge of the +work-basket. “I will finish my quilt,” said she +down in her heart. Then putting her work +back into her lap, and looking up at her uncle, +who was a little puzzled by her unusual manner, +she said— +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span></p> +<p>“I thank you, Uncle, but I can’t go this afternoon.”</p> +<p>“Not go! What does my little puss mean?” +exclaimed Uncle Morris, greatly surprised that +his niece should decline his invitation.</p> +<p>Jessie took the paper from the basket, gave it +to him, and, while a loving smile played round +her lips, said—</p> +<p>“Please, Uncle, read this.”</p> +<p>The old gentleman put on his spectacles, +glanced at the paper, and, as he gave it back to +her, smiled, and said—</p> +<p>“Ha, ha, I see! going to run the little wizard +through the heart with the spear of Resolution! +Very good. I would rather see you conquer +your enemy, my dear Jessie, than to have your +company, much as I love it. So good-by, and +may the Great Teacher help you to keep your +resolution!”</p> +<p>“Good-by, Uncle!”</p> +<p>I can’t tell you how happy Jessie felt at having +resisted this strong temptation. A warm +current of joy flowed through her heart, and +bore away all regret which thinking on the loss +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +of a pleasant walk might have otherwise caused +her to feel. Her eyes sparkled with delight. +Her fingers almost flew, and the quilt gained +in size very fast.</p> +<p>But fifteen minutes more had not passed, +when Emily and Charlie bounced into the room.</p> +<p>“We want you to play with us,” said Emily. +“We are tired of playing together without +company, and want you.”</p> +<p>“I want you to play horses. I’ve got some +twine for a pair of reins, and you two girls will +make a capital span. Come, hurry up, Jessie!” +said Charlie, who had got over his ducking in +the brook, and was as rude and ready for mischief +as ever.</p> +<p>“I’m very sorry,” replied Jessie, “but I can’t +go with you. I must sew on my quilt till tea-time.”</p> +<p>“<i>Must</i>, eh! Who says you <i>must</i>?” replied +Emily with a sneer.</p> +<p>“I have made a resolution to punish myself +for going out this morning when I ought to have +stayed in,” said Jessie, firmly.</p> +<p>“Pooh,” said Charlie, “that’s all nonsense. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +She is too proud to play with us. She is a +regular Miss Stuckup, and I won’t own her for +my cousin any more;” and with this hard +speech the boy left the parlor, walking backwards, +and making mouths as he went.</p> +<p>“I do think you ought to play with us, Jessie,” +said Emily. “You know we have only +one day more to spend with you, and it’s very +unkind of you to stay in here and leave me to +amuse myself as best I can. As to your resolution, +I s’pose you made it on purpose, because +you didn’t want to play with us.”</p> +<p>This unkind speech made Jessie feel very +badly. She doubted for a moment whether she +had not erred in making her resolution before +her cousins went home. She felt inclined to drop +her work, and go out with her very ungracious +cousins. But her second thoughts assured her +that it was her first <i>duty</i> to conquer the habit +which had caused her so much trouble. So +looking with moistening eyes at her cousin, she +replied—</p> +<p>“I’m sorry, Emily, that I cannot go out with +you, but I really can’t do it. You know my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +ma requires me to spend my mornings in sewing +or reading. I went out this morning without +thinking, and without asking her consent. +To make up for that, I must sew this afternoon. +This evening and to-morrow afternoon, I will +play with you as much as you please.”</p> +<p>“I say you are a very ugly creature, and I +don’t like you one bit,” retorted Emily, as with +pouting lips and flashing eyes she bounced from +the room, slamming the door with a loud noise +as she went out.</p> +<p>Poor Jessie felt wounded, and the big tears +would flow from her eyes in spite of her efforts +to restrain them. Smarting under the cruel +words of her cousin, she felt an impulse to follow +her, but again her eyes fell on the paper, +and she resumed her work, saying to herself—</p> +<p>“Jessie Carlton, you must not mind the hard +speeches of your cousins. Your resolution is +right and good. Uncle Morris said so. Stick +to it then, and by the time the quilt and a few +other things are done, as Uncle Morris said, the +little wizard will find Glen Morris Cottage too +hot to hold him. I’ll keep my resolution.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></p> +<p>Just then, smash went some glass somewhere +in the rear of the house. The crash was followed +by a voice, which Jessie knew to be her +cousin’s, saying—</p> +<p>“O Charlie, Charlie! what have you done!”</p> +<p>“I don’t care! It’s only the kitchen window,” +was the reply.</p> +<p>Again did Jessie’s impulse move her to put +down her work and run out to see what was +the matter. But her purpose came to her aid +again, and she kept plying her needle and +saying:</p> +<p>“No, I won’t go out. It’s only that naughty +Charlie throwing stones in at the kitchen +window. What a bad boy he is. I’m glad he +is going home soon.”</p> +<p>Another quarter of an hour passed without +interruption, when the door opened and the +bright face of Carrie Sherwood peeped in.</p> +<p>“Why, Carrie Sherwood!” exclaimed Jessie.</p> +<p>“Jessie Carlton!”</p> +<p>“Come in and sit down,” said Jessie.</p> +<p>Carrie stepped in but did not sit down. +“I’ve come,” she said, “to invite you and your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +cousins to spend the afternoon, and to take tea +at our house. Ma says that since no harm came +to Charlie from his ducking, she would like to +have you come as you meant to do before he +fell into the brook.”</p> +<p>“I can’t go with you till nearly tea-time,” replied +Jessie.</p> +<p>“Why not?”</p> +<p>“Because I <i>can’t</i>.”</p> +<p>“But <i>why</i> can’t you?”</p> +<p>“Because I’ve resolved to sew on this quilt +until tea-time,” said Jessie; and pointing to the +paper she added, “see! there is my resolution.”</p> +<p>Carrie read the paper and laughed. “Well, +you are a queer girl, Jessie Carlton. You tie +yourself up with a resolution nobody asks you +to make, and then say you can’t move.”</p> +<p>“But I made the resolution because I thought +it was <i>right</i>,” said Jessie, solemnly.</p> +<p>“Oh! did you? Well, that alters the case, I +suppose. But please break it for <i>once</i>; <i>only</i> +this once, just to please me, you know. Come, +there’s a dear, good Jessie; do come over to my +house this afternoon.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span></p> +<p>Oh! how Jessie did long to drop her sewing, +and go with her friend. There was a mighty +struggle in her heart for a few moments; but +her purpose triumphed at last, and in a calm, +firm voice, she replied:</p> +<p>“No, dear Carrie, not until nearly dark. I +must finish my quilt to-morrow morning. You +go and get my cousins and take them with you. +I will come over just as soon as it is too dark to +see to sew without a light; and that won’t be a +great while, you know, this short afternoon.”</p> +<p>Carrie saw that her friend’s mind was made +up. So turning to leave the room she said:</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose you are right; but mind +you come as early as you can.”</p> +<p>“That I will,” rejoined Jessie.</p> +<p>Carrie left the room. The next moment she +pushed the door open again, and peeping in, +said,</p> +<p>“Jessie?”</p> +<p>“Well, dear, what is it?”</p> +<p>“Ask your ma to let you stay till half-past +nine, will you?”</p> +<p>“Yes.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span></p> +<p>“Good-by.”</p> +<p>“Good-by till dark,” replied Jessie, laughing +at the idea of her friend bidding her good-by +just for an hour.</p> +<p>Jessie now felt very strong in her purpose. +She had resisted no less than four temptations +to yield to her impulses in about an hour and a +half. This was doing nobly, and Jessie felt +more self-respect than she had ever felt before. +She was certainly doing battle in real earnest +with her old enemy, the little wizard, as Uncle +Morris facetiously called him. And she had +her reward for all her self-denial in the glad +feelings which bubbled up in her heart like +springs of water in some cosy mountain nook.</p> +<p>Nothing else came to tempt Jessie the remainder +of that afternoon. She sewed until it +was too dark to see in front of the fire; then +she took her seat close to the window, and it +was not until she could no longer see to take a +stitch neatly that she began to put up her work.</p> +<p>“One more morning will finish it,” said she, +after taking a glance at her work. “Oh! how +glad I shall be when I have taken the last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +stitch. And won’t I be glad when it comes out +of the quilting-frame, and is spread upon Uncle +Morris’s bed. It’s been a long time doing—Oh! +ever so long—thanks to the little wizard. +But little wizard, little wizard, go away! go +away! We don’t want you any longer in Glen +Morris Cottage.”</p> +<p>In this cheerful mood Jessie tied on her hood +and cloak, and tripped over to Carrie Sherwood’s, +where she spent one of the pleasantest +evenings she had enjoyed since the coming of +her cousins to Duncanville. For some reasons +unknown to me, it pleased that selfish brother +and sister to put on their best and most approved +behavior. Perhaps they caught a ray +or two of the joy which beamed, like sunshine, +from Jessie’s heart.</p> +<p>The next morning after breakfast, filled with +the idea of finishing the quilt before dinner, +Jessie found a parcel in her work-basket directed +to Miss Jessie Carlton.</p> +<p>“What can it be?” said she, as she hastily +untied the string, and unfolded the wrapping-paper. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></p> +<p>“A pair of ladies’ skates! Oh, how glad I am! +I wonder who sent them. Oh! here is a piece of +paper. What does it say?”</p> +<p>Holding the paper to the light she read as +follows:</p> +<p>“From a fond father to his beloved daughter.”</p> +<p>“From pa! Oh, how good of him! It’s too +bad he didn’t stop to let me thank him. But +I’ll thank him to-night. I’ve been wishing all +this fall for a pair of skates, because all the girls +are going to have them. Suppose I just step +out and try them a little while.”</p> +<p>Thus did Jessie talk out her thoughts to herself. +Thus did the impulse come over her to +leave her morning’s duty and repeat the fault +of the day before. It was fortunate, perhaps, +that her cousins, knowing she meant to sew, +had rushed off to find a slide before she discovered +her new skates. Their persuasions, +joined to her own impulse, might have overcome +her and brought her into bondage to the +little wizard again. Without their presence, I +confess, the temptation to try the skates was a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +very strong one. Jessie was getting ready to go +out when her eye fell on the paper which was +still pinned to the basket’s edge. She paused, +blushed, put down the skates, and said aloud:</p> +<p>“No, no, little wizard, I won’t obey you. +The quilt shall be finished, and the skates shall +wait until the afternoon.”</p> +<p>“Three cheers for my little conqueror!” +shouted Uncle Morris, who, coming in at that +moment, overheard this last remark.</p> +<p>“O uncle! I was <i>almost</i> conquered myself,” +said Jessie.</p> +<p>“Never mind that, for now you are <i>quite</i> a +conqueror,” rejoined her uncle, smiling and patting +her head.</p> +<p>Need I say that the quilt was finished that +morning? It was; and before Jessie sat down +to dinner, she had the pleasure of seeing it put +into the quilting-frame by Maria, the seamstress +of the household. And thus did our sweet +little Jessie win her first really decisive victory +over the little wizard which had hitherto been +to her like the fisherman’s wife, Alice, in the +fairy tale—the plague of her life.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VIII_FAREWELL_TO_THE_COUSINS' id='VIII_FAREWELL_TO_THE_COUSINS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Farewell to the Cousins.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>Scarcely had Jessie feasted her eyes on her +quilt, snugly fixed between the bars of the +quilting-frame, before the dinner-bell rang out +its pleasant call. The happy girl skipped down-stairs +with a light and merry step. In the hall +she met her brothers.</p> +<p>“O Guy!” she exclaimed, “I have finished +my quilt! Aren’t you glad!”</p> +<p>“To be sure I am,” said Guy, kissing her +rosy cheek, “and I expect you will be so well-pleased +with my old friend, Never-give-up, who +helped you finish it, that you will never give +him the mitten again.”</p> +<p>“Pshaw!” cried Hugh with a sneer, “I’ll +bet my new knife, that she gives him the mitten +before the week is out. Jessie isn’t made +of the right stuff for your famous Try Company, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +any more than I am. She hasn’t got the perseverance +of a kitten.”</p> +<p>“And yet she has more of it, than Master +Hugh Carlton, for he has never finished any +thing but his dinner, and she has finished her +<i>quilt</i>,” said Uncle Morris, who as he was crossing +the hall to the dining-room, heard Hugh’s +unkind remark.</p> +<p>“There, Hugh, you are fairly hit now,” said +Guy, laughing.</p> +<p>“They who live in glass-houses shouldn’t throw +stones, should they, my little puss?” said Uncle +Morris, leading Jessie into the dining-room.</p> +<p>“Hugh is always teasing me,” replied Jessie, +“I wish he was more like Guy.”</p> +<p>Dinner was waiting, and taking their seats at +the table, they all sat in silence, while Uncle +Morris reverently craved a blessing. He had +hardly finished, before Charlie and Emily +rushed into the room, leaving traces of their +feet on the carpet, at every step.</p> +<p>“My dears, where have you been to wet +your feet so?” asked Mrs. Carlton, seeing that +their boots were soaked with water. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></p> +<p>“Oh! it’s been thawing, Aunt, and we got our +feet wet, sliding,” said Emily, as she took her +seat at the table, panting and pushing the ringlets +back from her face.</p> +<p>“You had better put on dry socks and boots, +before you eat,” observed Mrs. Carlton. She +then touched the bell. The servant entered.</p> +<p>“Mary,” said the lady, “take these children +to their rooms, and change their socks and +boots!”</p> +<p>“Yes mem,” said Mary, looking daggers at +the two cousins.</p> +<p>“Can’t I wait till after dinner, aunt?” asked +Emily.</p> +<p>“No, my dear. You must go at once, lest +you get cold by sitting still so long with wet +feet.”</p> +<p>Emily pouted, but knowing her aunt would +firmly enforce her command, she rose, and +taking her brother by the wrist, said:</p> +<p>“Come, Charlie, let us go up-stairs!”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to,” growled Charlie, pulling +away his arm, and putting it round his plate.</p> +<p>“Charlie!” exclaimed Mrs. Carlton. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></p> +<p>“I want my dinner!” was his surly reply.</p> +<p>Mary had now drawn near the ugly little +fellow. Placing her heavy hand on his shoulder, +she seized him with a grip, which made him +feel like a pigmy, in the grasp of a giant. +Having had a taste of Mary’s anger, once or +twice before, and catching a glance from the +kindling eye of Uncle Morris, he yielded, and +was led out of the room.</p> +<p>“The worst child of his age I ever knew,” +observed the old gentleman with a sigh, as he +proceeded to carve the chickens, which were +smoking on the hospitable table before him.</p> +<p>Jessie’s face had clouded a little during this +scene. The thaw of which Emily had spoken, +cut off her hope of trying her new skates. +Leaning towards Guy, who sat next to her at +the table, she whispered:</p> +<p>“Is the ice <i>all</i> gone, Guy?”</p> +<p>“I expect it is pretty much used up by the +fog we’ve had all day.”</p> +<p>“Oh dear, I’m so sorry!” said Jessie with a +sigh.</p> +<p>Judging of her thoughts by her looks, Uncle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +Morris said, “Never mind, Jessie. There will +be plenty of ice to skate on, in a week or two.”</p> +<p>“Skate! How can she <i>skate</i>? She hasn’t +got any skates!” said Hugh.</p> +<p>“Yes, I have,” replied Jessie, smiling. “Pa +sent me a beautiful pair this morning.”</p> +<p>This statement led to various remarks about +skating, and winter weather in the country. +Meanwhile, the cousins came back to the table. +Jessie soon grew cheerful again, and the dinner +passed without any other occurrence worthy of +notice.</p> +<p>After dinner, the fog having grown into a +fine, drizzling rain, the children found it impossible +to go out of doors in search of amusement. +It was therefore agreed to invite Miss Carrie +Sherwood to tea. Guy promised to go after +her. To add to the pleasure of the occasion, +Jessie had her mother’s permission to use a +sweet little tea-set of her own, and to have tea +with her cousins and Carrie by themselves in +the parlor.</p> +<p>Carrie arrived in due time, snugly wrapped +in hood and shawl. Her feet were protected by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +rubbers. She declared that Guy was a capital +<i>beau</i>. Guy laughed at her compliment, and repaid +it by saying that she was a nice little <i>belle</i>, +and then he ran off to school.</p> +<p>The afternoon passed rapidly, because, on the +whole, it was pleasantly spent. Emily, knowing +it was the last day of her visit, seemed +anxious to do away with the bad impression she +had previously made upon the mind of her +cousin and her friend. Charlie, too, was in his +best mood most of the time. Once, indeed, he +came very near breaking up the harmony of +the party. Seeing a strap of Jessie’s new +skates peeping from beneath the what-not where +she had hidden them, he seized it, pulled out +the skates, and began to put them on.</p> +<p>“Please, Charlie, don’t do that,” said Jessie. +“You can’t skate on the carpet, you know; +please give them to me?”</p> +<p>“I won’t!” retorted the wilful boy.</p> +<p>“Please do give them to me?” implored +Jessie.</p> +<p>“I want to skate on the carpet, first,” said +Charlie, still trying to buckle on the skates. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></p> +<p>“Do ask him to give them to me?” said +Jessie, addressing Emily.</p> +<p>“There, take your old skates!” cried the boy, +throwing them violently across the room.</p> +<p>The fact was, he did not understand the mystery +of straps and buckles in which the skates +were involved. Hence his desire to try the +skates was borne away upon the current of his +impatience, and thereby the little party escaped +a scene for the time being.</p> +<p>But it was only for a time. Charlie had been +so used to have his own way and to oppose +the wishes of others, that he seemed to find +his pleasure in spoiling the delights of others. +Hence, when the hour for tea arrived, and +Jessie’s sweet little china tea-set, with its ornaments +of gold and flowers, was spread out upon +a little round table, he drew near to it and +taking Jessie’s seat, said:</p> +<p>“I’m going to play lady and pour out the tea.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense, Charlie!” said his sister. “Take +the next seat and let Jessie have hers.”</p> +<p>“I won’t,” muttered Charlie.</p> +<p>“Come, Charlie, do get out of your cousin’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +chair! Young gentlemen don’t pour out tea +for ladies, you know,” said Carrie in her most +coaxing tones.</p> +<p>“I don’t care! I’m going to play lady and +pour out the tea,” replied the boy in his most +dogged manner.</p> +<p>“I never did see such a boy in all my life,” +whispered Jessie to her friend.</p> +<p>“Nor I,” rejoined Carrie; “my father says +he’s a young hornet.”</p> +<p>“Oh dear! what shall I do?” sighed Jessie.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you sit down?” said Charlie, as +he began to handle the little teapot.</p> +<p>“Charlie, get up!” exclaimed his sister, as +she snatched the teapot from his hand.</p> +<p>“Don’t touch him. I’ll call my uncle; he’ll +make him move,” said Jessie, moving towards +the door.</p> +<p>She was too late; Emily’s act had roused the +fiery temper of the boy. Placing his hands on +each side of his chair, he leaned back, and lifting +up his feet to the edge of the table, kicked +it over and sent the tea-set crashing to the +floor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></p> +<p>“Oh dear! Oh dear! He has broken my +nice tea-set all to pieces!” cried Jessie, +pausing, gazing on the wreck, and bursting +into tears.</p> +<p>The crash of the falling tea-things was heard +by Uncle Morris. He entered the room with a +grave face. Charlie still sat on the chair, looking +surly and wicked at the ruin he had +wrought.</p> +<p>“See what Charlie has done, Uncle!” exclaimed +Jessie, sobbing. “I wouldn’t care if it +wasn’t poor Aunt Lucy’s present that he has +broken.”</p> +<p>Aunt Lucy was dead. She had given this +charming little tea-set to Jessie only a few +weeks before her death.</p> +<p>“How did he do it?” asked Mr. Morris.</p> +<p>“He kicked the table over, Sir, because we +wanted him to let Jessie sit in her place, and +pour out the tea,” said Carrie.</p> +<p>Just then Mrs. Carlton, and Mary the waiting-maid, +both of whom had heard the noise, entered +the parlor. Turning to the latter, Mr. +Morris said: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></p> +<p>“Mary, put that ugly boy to bed!”</p> +<p>Charlie, frightened at Mr. Morris’s manner, +yielded to this command without a word, and +was led out of the room.</p> +<p>“I didn’t know that so much ugliness could +be got into so small a parcel before that boy +came here. He goes home to-morrow morning, +however, and we shall all witness his departure, +I guess, with very dry eyes,” said Mr. Morris.</p> +<p>“He needs somebody to weep over him, +though, brother,” interposed Mrs. Carlton, “for +otherwise he will grow up into a very wicked +and dangerous manhood.”</p> +<p>“Very true, sister. He is a spoiled child. I +must write to sister Hannah about him. If +rigid training, and the rod of correction, be not +soon applied to him, he will become a spoiled +man.”</p> +<p>After telling Mrs. Carlton the cause of this +disaster, the girls with her aid began to repair +the ruin wrought by ugly Charlie. Having +replaced the table, they picked up the pieces, +and were relieved to find that, with the exception +of the knob of the teapot lid, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +handles of two cups, which were off, nothing +was broken. Uncle Morris said he had a +cement with which he could fasten on the knob +and the handles. This relieved Jessie very +much. She smiled, and said:</p> +<p>“Oh, I am so glad! I want to keep that tea-set, +for dear Aunt Lucy’s sake.”</p> +<p>Of course the tea was all spilled, and the +food scattered over the carpet. These, however, +were soon replaced from the well-supplied +closets of the kitchen and dining-room. In +half an hour, the table was reset, and the three +girls were seated, quietly eating their supper.</p> +<p>Did they enjoy their feast? A little, perhaps, +but the upsetting of the table could not +be forgotten. It chilled their spirits, and +checked the flow of their joy. Thus, as always, +did the evil conduct of one wrong-doer, act, +like a cloud in the path of the sun, on the joy +of others.</p> +<p>Carrie Sherwood left early in the evening, +and Jessie went to her chamber with Emily to +assist her in packing her trunk, so that she +might be ready for an early start in the morning. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +When the last stray article was nicely +packed, Emily threw herself back in the big +arm-chair, and with a long-drawn sigh, exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Oh dear!”</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” inquired Jessie.</p> +<p>“Oh! nothing. Only I’m glad I’m going +home.”</p> +<p>“So am I,” was the <i>thought</i> that leaped to +Jessie’s lips. She was, however, too polite to +utter it, and too sincere to say she was sorry, so +she sat still and said nothing.</p> +<p>Several minutes were passed in silence, a +very unusual thing, I believe, where the company +is composed of young ladies. But Jessie +did not know what to say, and Emily was +thinking, and did not wish to say any thing. +At last she looked up and said:</p> +<p>“Jessie, I’m afraid I haven’t behaved well +since I came to Glen Morris.”</p> +<p>Jessie again thought with Emily, and again +her politeness and sincerity kept her silent. +Emily went on.</p> +<p>“You have been very kind to me and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +Charlie. I’m sorry we haven’t made ourselves +more agreeable to you.”</p> +<p>“Oh! never mind that,” said Jessie. “I hope +you will come and see me again, one of these +days.”</p> +<p>Emily then went on to tell Jessie about her +thoughts and feelings. She had not forgotten +the advice of Uncle Morris, nor had Jessie’s +example been without its influence over her. +True, her old habits of self-will and falsehood, +had acted the part of tyrants over her. Yet +she had been secretly wishing to be like Jessie. +These wishes, frail as they had proved themselves +to be, showed that good seed from +Jessie’s example had been sown in her heart. +Now that she was about to return home, all her +better feelings were awake, and she begged +forgiveness of her cousin, promising to do her +best, hereafter, to be a good, truthful, affectionate +girl.</p> +<p>All this and much more, she said to Jessie, +before they slept that night. These confessions +and purposes did Emily good. They also +cheered Jessie, by causing her to hope that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +after all, she might be to her cousin, what Guy +had been to Richard Duncan.</p> +<p>The next morning, directly after breakfast, +the hack drove up to the door, and the cousins +were borne away to the depot in care of Mr. +Carlton. As the carriage left the lawn, Uncle +Morris patted his niece on the head, and said:</p> +<p>“As vinegar to the teeth, and smoke to the +eyes, so are self-willed guests to those who entertain +them.”</p> +<p>“O Uncle Morris!” exclaimed Jessie, with +an air of mock gravity, which showed that, +harsh as her uncle’s remark sounded, she felt +its justice. In fact, the departure of the ungracious +cousins was to the inmates of Glen +Morris, like the flight of the angry storm-cloud +to a company of mariners, after weary weeks of +squalls and tempests.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IX_THE_WIZARD_IN_THE_FIELD_AGAIN' id='IX_THE_WIZARD_IN_THE_FIELD_AGAIN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Wizard in the Field Again.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>“I’m glad they are gone, and yet I’m sorry. +Em seemed sorry to go, and she cried when I +kissed her good-by. I really think Em loves +me after all; and if it wasn’t for that ugly +Charlie, she would be a nice girl. But that +Charlie! Oh dear! I don’t think there is another +such boy anywhere. I don’t wonder my +uncle compares him to a burr, a sting-nettle, +and a hedgehog. I’m sure he’s been nothing +but a plague to everybody, ever since he came +here. I’m glad <i>he’s</i> gone, anyhow. And yet, +poor fellow, I pity him. He must be miserable +himself, or he wouldn’t torment everybody else +so—but I must go to work, I s’pose.”</p> +<p>Thus did Jessie talk to herself, after seeing +her cousins off. She had returned to the parlor, +and seated herself in her small rocking-chair. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +She now drew the two pieces of cloth for her +uncle’s slippers, from her work-basket, and after +handling them awhile with a languid air, +put them in her lap, sighed, and said—</p> +<p>“Oh dear! I do wish these slippers were done. +This is a hard pattern, and it will take me ever +so many days to finish it. Heigho! I ’most +wish I hadn’t begun them. Let me see if I +have worsted enough to finish them.”</p> +<p>Here Jessie leaned over and began to explore +the tangled depths of her work-basket. It was +a complete olio. Old letters, pieces of silk, velvet, +linen, and woollen, scraps of paper, leaves +of books, old cords and rusty tassels, spools of +cotton, skeins of thread and knots,—in short, +almost every thing that could by any sort of +chance, or mischance, get into a young lady’s +work-basket, was there in rare confusion. +Jessie’s love of order was not very large. Her +temper was often sorely tried by the trouble +which her careless habit caused her when seeking +a pair of scissors, or a spool of cotton. It +was so to-day. She plunged her hand deep into +the basket, in search of the colored worsteds +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +required for her uncle’s slippers. After feeling +round awhile, she drew forth a tangled +mess, which she placed on her lap.</p> +<p>“Oh dear!” she said, in a complaining tone; +“how these worsteds are tangled!”</p> +<p>Nimbly her fingers wrought, however, and +very soon the skeins were all laid out on her +knee.</p> +<p>“Let me see,” said she, looking at her pattern; +“there are one, two, three, four—five—six +colors, and I have only one, two, three, four, +five. Which is missing? Ah, I see: there +is no <i>brown</i>. Must I hunt that basket again? +It’s a regular jungle—no, not a <i>jungle</i>—a jungle +is a forest, mostly covered with reeds and +bushes. This is a, a—a <i>jumble</i>. Uncle, would +call it a basket of confusion. Ha! ha!”</p> +<p>Vainly did Jessie explore her “basket of confusion.” +In vain did she upset its contents upon +the floor, and replace them by handfuls. +The missing skein of brown worsted could not +be found. At last, with wearied neck, and +aching head, she threw herself back in her chair, +and said— +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></p> +<p>“It’s no use, there is no brown worsted there. +But what’s that?”</p> +<p>In leaning back, Jessie’s eyes were arrested +by a new book which was on the mantle. +Starting from her chair, she took down the +book. It was a story-book that Guy had borrowed +of his friend Richard Duncan. The pictures +were beautiful, and Jessie, charmed by +the promise of its opening pages, gave herself +up to the leadings of her excited curiosity, and +soon forgot all about worsted, slippers, cousins, +and uncle. Little Impulse the wizard had baited +his trap with a choice book, and Jessie was +in his power again.</p> +<p>“Why, Guy! what brought you home so +early?” asked Jessie, more than two hours +later, when her brother’s entrance broke her attention +from the book.</p> +<p>“Early!” exclaimed Guy, looking at his +watch; “do you call fifteen minutes past twelve +early?”</p> +<p>“Fifteen minutes past twelve!” cried Jessie, +in great surprise; “it can’t be so late: your +watch must be wrong, Guy.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span></p> +<p>“Then the village clock is wrong, for I timed +my watch by it as I came past,” said Guy. “I +guess you have been asleep, Sis, and didn’t +notice how time passed.”</p> +<p>“Asleep, indeed! do you think I go to sleep +in the morning? not I. But I’ve been reading +your book, and was just finishing it when you +came in. It’s real interesting,” said Jessie.</p> +<p>“Yes, it’s a nice book,” replied Guy, as he +left the room in response to a call from Hugh, +who was in the hall.</p> +<p>Jessie replaced the book, and sighed as she +picked up the worsteds from the floor, to think +that she had done nothing to the slippers that +morning. However, as there was yet over half +an hour to spare before dinner, and as she could +go on with her work for the present, without +the brown worsted, she began plying her needle +with right good will.</p> +<p>Presently Uncle Morris came in. He had +been out all the morning. Seeing his niece so +busy, he smiled, and said:</p> +<p>“Busy as the bee, eh, Jessie? Well, it’s the +working bee that makes the honey. Guess the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +little wizard has lost heart now he has found out +that my little puss has a strong will to do right, +and a strong Friend to help her.”</p> +<p>Jessie blushed and sighed. She was in what +young Duncan would call a “tight place.” She +knew that her uncle was mistaken; that she did +not deserve his praise, that by being silent she +should, of her own accord, confirm his mistake +and thereby deceive him. And yet, it was +hard to confess her fault, under the circumstances. +“What could Jessie do?”</p> +<p>At first she was silent. Her uncle perceiving +by her manner that something puzzled and +pained her, turned to his chair, and without +saying another word took up the morning’s +newspaper and began reading.</p> +<p>The longer Jessie kept up his false impression, +the worse she felt. Very soon, however, +the voice of the Good Spirit within her gained +the victory, and throwing the slipper into the +basket, she rose, saying to herself, “I will tell +him all about it.”</p> +<p>Going to her uncle’s side, she threw an arm +round his neck, gently drew his head towards +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +her and kissed him. Then she smiled through a +mist of tears, and said:</p> +<p>“Uncle, the little wizard hasn’t left Glen +Morris, yet.”</p> +<p>“Hasn’t he?” replied her uncle. “Why, I +thought you pricked him so sorely with your +quilt needle that he had run off to Greenland, +or to some other distant land to escape your +little ladyship’s anger, or to woo Miss Perseverance +to be his bride.”</p> +<p>“I wish he had,” sighed Jessie; “but I fear +he never will go. I wish he didn’t like Glen +Morris so well.”</p> +<p>Then the little girl told her uncle how Guy’s +book had lured her into the wizard’s power.</p> +<p>“Never mind, my child,” said Uncle Morris, +patting her head as he spoke, “never mind. +Never give up. Attack him again with your +tiny spear. Resolve that you will yet conquer +him, as little David did big Goliath, in the +name of the Lord. A little girl can be what +she wills to be, if she only wills in the name of +Him who is the teacher and the friend of +children.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></p> +<p>“I’ll try, Uncle,” said Jessie, with the fire of +resolution kindling in her eyes.</p> +<p>“Heaven bless you, my child!” said the old +man solemnly, as he placed his hands softly +upon her head. “May you always be as frank +and truthful as you have now been in confessing +a fault to me which you must have been +very strongly tempted to conceal. May Heaven +bless you!”</p> +<p>Didn’t Jessie feel glad then! She was glad +she had resisted the temptation to receive praise +she did not merit; glad she had done right; +glad her uncle was pleased with her. Happy +Jessie! Had she by silence deceived her uncle, +she would have felt guilty and ashamed. Now +she was as peaceful and hopeful as love and +duty could make her.</p> +<p>After dinner, seeing Guy take his cap as if in +great haste, Jessie followed him to the door and +said: “What makes you in such a hurry, +every day, Guy? You have not stayed to talk +to me for ever so long.”</p> +<p>“You have had company, you know, Jessie, +and haven’t wanted me,” replied Guy, evasively. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></p> +<p>“But I have no company to-day,” said Jessie. +“Come, don’t go yet, there’s a dear, good Guy. +Come into the parlor and tell me a story.”</p> +<p>“Not now,” replied Guy, opening the door. +Then after a moment or two of silent thought, +he shut the door and said, “If you will put on +your cloak and hood I’ll take you with me.”</p> +<p>“Oh, good, good!” exclaimed the little girl; +and after running to her mother for consent, she +soon returned fitly equipped for a walk on that +breezy November afternoon.</p> +<p>It being Wednesday and no school, Guy had +the afternoon before him. He led his sister +towards the village, telling her he was going to +take her to see a good old lady of whom, he +said, he was very fond.</p> +<p>“Who is she? How did you find her out? +Does Uncle Morris know her?” were among the +many questions which Jessie put to her brother. +He did not see fit to satisfy her, however, except +to say, “Her name is Mrs. <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Moneypenny</span>.”</p> +<p>“Mrs. Moneypenny! What a funny name?” +exclaimed Jessie, laughing and repeating the +name. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span></p> +<p>“Yes, it is odd; but the lady who bears it, is +a noble woman.”</p> +<p>“Is she rich?”</p> +<p>“No, she is very poor, very poor indeed.”</p> +<p>“Very poor, eh? But how came you to +know her?”</p> +<p>“That’s my secret.”</p> +<p>“A secret! Please tell me about it, Guy?”</p> +<p>“Can’t do it, Jessie. You know girls can’t +keep secrets,” replied Guy, laughing and looking +archly at his sister.</p> +<p>“I can, Guy. Do tell me. I won’t tell +Hugh, nor Carrie Sherwood, no, nor even +Uncle Morris, though I can’t see why you +should keep a secret from him.”</p> +<p>Just then Guy and his sister were passing +some open lots in the village street. Several +rough boys were standing round a small bonfire +which they had made out of the dead branches +and leaves of trees, which the fall winds had +scattered over the streets and open lots. As +soon as they saw Guy, one of them cried in a +jeering tone:</p> +<p>“There goes Mrs. Moneypenny’s cow-boy!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></p> +<p>“Wonder how much he gets a week,” shouted +another boy.</p> +<p>“Perhaps he’s gwine to be the old lady’s +heir,” said the first.</p> +<p>“Guess he ’spects young Jack Moneypenny’s +gwine to die, down in the Brooklyn hospital, +and he wants the old ooman to adopt him. +He! he!” said a third speaker.</p> +<p>Loud peals of derisive laughter followed these +remarks. Guy made no reply, but grasping his +sister’s hand more tightly, he hurried past at a +rapid walk, and was soon out of hearing.</p> +<p>“Oh! I am so glad we are past those wicked +boys,” said Jessie, slightly shivering with fear. +“But what did they call you a cow-boy for, +Guy?”</p> +<p>“I suppose I must tell you my secret now,” +said Guy. “Those boys have partly let my cat +out of the bag.”</p> +<p>Guy then told his sister, that Mrs. Moneypenny +was a poor widow, with a son named +Jack. She rented a cottage and a little piece +of land. A cow, a few hens, and Jack’s labor, +were all she had to depend upon. Jack, being +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +a steady boy, earned enough to keep them comfortable +in their simple way of living. But a +great misfortune had overtaken them. Jack, +while in Brooklyn, with a lot of eggs and +chickens, which he had taken in to sell, had +been knocked down and run over by a horse +and wagon. His leg was broken, and he was +carried to the hospital.</p> +<p>This sad news was quickly sent to Jack’s +mother. Poor old lady! It seemed as if her +only stay was broken by this disaster. Being +lame, she could not go to her son, neither could +she take care of her cow at home. She was in +deep distress, and wept many tears over poor +Jack’s sufferings, and her own hard fate.</p> +<p>Guy happened to hear her case talked over +at the post-office, the very day the news of +Jack’s misfortune arrived. He heard a gentleman +say, that she must be sent to the alms-house, +though, being a woman of spirit, he +feared she would break her heart and die, if she +was. Full of pity for the old lady, Guy went +to her, and offered to take care of her cow and +hens, as long as Jack might be sick. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span></p> +<p>“It would have melted your heart,” said +Guy, as he finished his story, “had you seen +the old lady cry for joy at my offer. She +looked so thankful, and seemed so much relieved, +that I felt as happy as an angel, to think +that by doing such a little thing as milking and +feeding a cow for a few weeks, I could shed so +much light in the dwelling of a poor, but noble +woman.”</p> +<p>Jessie’s eyes swam with tears. She pressed +Guy’s hand, but spoke not. He understood the +meaning of that pressure. He knew that in +her heart she was saying, “My brother did +right, and those boys were very wicked for +calling after him. I love my dear brother +better than ever.”</p> +<p>While such thoughts as these were passing in +Jessie’s mind, and Guy was feeling the gladness +which welled up within him like living water, +they reached the cottage. Mrs. Moneypenny +received them with smiles of welcome. She +kissed Jessie, and said:</p> +<p>“You look as if you had a heart as kind as +your brother’s. May Heaven bless you both!”</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +<img src='images/illus3.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 386px; height: 545px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 386px;'> +<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mrs. Moneypenny Reading Jack’s Letter.</span> Page 153.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></div> +<p>Then the old lady began to talk about her +“dear Jack.” After telling them he was “getting +along nicely,” she read a letter which he +made out to write in pencil, as he lay bolstered +up in his bed. Having finished it, the good +mother sighed, and said:</p> +<p>“Dear Jack! How I do wish he could be +brought home, so that I could take care of him +myself! There is no nurse like a mother. The +poor fellow says he wants some more shirts sent +him, but I haven’t another to send him, nor any +thing to make him one with. Ah, my children, +poverty is not a pleasant heritage; but never +mind; life is short, and I and my poor Jack +will have mansions, robes, and riches in the +better land. May you, my children, be blessed +with such treasures both here and hereafter!”</p> +<p>After Guy had “looked to the cow,” in the +hovel which answered for a barn, he and his +sister took their leave of the widow.</p> +<p>Jessie walked quietly home, looking very +grave, and scarcely speaking a word by the +way. Once she turned to Guy and asked:</p> +<p>“How large a boy is Jack?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></p> +<p>“About my size,” replied Guy.</p> +<p>Jessie had a big thought in her head—I +mean a big thought for a little girl. If you +wish to know what it was, you must consult the +next chapter.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='X_MADGE_CLIFTON' id='X_MADGE_CLIFTON'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Madge Clifton.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>When Jessie reached home she threw her +hood and cloak carelessly on to the floor. The +cloak-stand was pretty well filled up, and she +was in too much haste, to take the pains needed +to find a place on the hooks for her garments. +This was one of her faults. A new impulse +had seized her, and she thought of nothing else. +Bounding into her mother’s room, she said:</p> +<p>“Mother, will you let me make two shirts for +poor Jack Moneypenny?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Carlton looked up from her work, and +after a moment’s glance at the eager face of her +daughter, asked:</p> +<p>“Who is Jack Moneypenny, my dear?”</p> +<p>Jessie, in her eagerness to carry her point, +had forgotten to ask if her mother knew any +thing of the widow, or her son, Jack. This +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +question checked her ardor a little, and she told +the story of the widow’s misfortune. Just as +she was finishing her tale, however, she thought +of Guy’s wish to keep his part in the affair a +secret. So blushing deeply, she added:</p> +<p>“Oh dear! what will Guy say? I promised +to keep it all secret, and now I have told all +about it. He said girls couldn’t keep a secret, +and I believe he is right. What shall I do, +Mother?”</p> +<p>“Why tell him that you have told me, to be +sure. Guy has no secrets with his mother, and +I am sure he does not wish his sister to have +any.”</p> +<p>“Has Guy told you about it, then?”</p> +<p>“Yes, he told me all his plans from the first. +Guy never conceals any thing from his mother.”</p> +<p>“What made you ask me who Jack Moneypenny +was, then, Ma, if you knew before?”</p> +<p>“Only to teach my Jessie, that she ought to +be less abrupt in her manners. You should +have stated your case first, and then have asked +me your question.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></p> +<p>“So I should, Ma,” said Jessie, musing a few +moments, and gazing on her foot, as she traced +the outline of the carpet-pattern with it. Then +smiling, she looked up, and added, “but you +know, Mamma, it is my way, to speak first, and +think afterwards.”</p> +<p>“Not a very wise way, either,” said Mrs. +Carlton; “but about those shirts, why do you +wish to make them?”</p> +<p>Jessie told her mother about Jack’s letter, +and what the widow had said.</p> +<p>“Well,” replied Mrs. Carlton; “I will give +you the cloth, and cut out the shirts, if you +really wish to make them.”</p> +<p>“I do, Mother, very much wish to do it. +Only think how glad the widow will be, and +how comfortable the shirts will make the poor +sick boy, in that horrid hospital.”</p> +<p>“Very true, my dear, but how about your +uncle’s slippers, and cushion, and watch-pocket?”</p> +<p>A blush tinged Jessie’s cheek again. The +little wizard had once more hurried her into a +new plan before her old ones had been worked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +out. Plainly she could not help poor Jack +and keep her former resolution, not to be +turned aside from finishing her gifts for Uncle +Morris. She was fairly puzzled. It was +right to make shirts for a poor boy. It was +right to keep her purposes too. Yet she could +not do both. But did not the boy need the +shirts, more than Uncle Morris did his slippers? +Would not her uncle be willing to wait? No +doubt he would, but then her promise to finish +the slippers before beginning any thing else, +was part of a plan for conquering a bad habit. +Would it be right to depart from that plan?</p> +<p>Such were the questions which floated like +unpleasant dreams through Jessie’s mind as she +sat with her hands on the back of a chair-seat, +knocking her heels against the floor. Her +mother, though she allowed her to think awhile +in silence, read her thoughts in the workings of +her face. When Jessie seemed to be lost in the +fog of her own thoughts, Mrs. Carlton came to +her aid, and said:</p> +<p>“Jessie.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Ma.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></p> +<p>“I have been thinking that poor Jack needs +those shirts directly, and that you could not +make him a pair in less than two, perhaps in +not less than three weeks. So I don’t see how +you can help him out of his present trouble.”</p> +<p>Jessie sighed, and said, “I didn’t think of that.”</p> +<p>“Well, I have a plan to propose. I will +send him two of Guy’s shirts to-morrow, and +you shall make two new ones for Guy, at your +leisure.”</p> +<p>“What a dear, good, nice mother you are,” +cried Jessie, running to Mrs. Carlton, and giving +her more kisses than I am able to count.</p> +<p>Thus did a mother’s love find a key with +which to unlock Jessie’s puzzle, and to enable +her to help poor Jack, without breaking her +purpose to finish Uncle Morris’s things, and +thereby drive that plague of her life, the little +wizard, away from Glen Morris.</p> +<p>“I will work ever so hard, see if I don’t, +Ma,” said she, as she patted her mother’s cheek. +“I will finish the slippers, and get the shirts +done, too, before Christmas. Don’t you think +I can?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span></p> +<p>“You <i>can</i>, I have no doubt, if you try my +dear.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll <i>try</i> then. I’ll join Guy’s famous +Try Company, and will try and try, and try +again, until I fairly succeed.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Carlton kissed her daughter affectionately; +after which the now light-hearted girl +bounded out of the room, singing—</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“If you find your case is hard,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 5.15084621044886em;'>Try, try, try again.</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Time will bring you your reward,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 6.62251655629139em;'>Try, try, try again.</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>All that other people do,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Why with patience should not you?</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Only keep this rule in view,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 6.62251655629139em;'>Try, try, try again.”</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>“That’s it! That’s it, my little puss,” said +Uncle Morris, who was in the parlor which +Jessie entered singing her joyous roundelay. +“Corporal Try is a little fellow, but he has +helped do all the great things that have ever +been done. There is nothing good or great +which he cannot do. He will help a little girl +learn to darn her own stocking, or make a quilt +for her old uncle; and he will help men build +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +big steamships, construct railroads over the +desert, or lay a telegraph wire under the waters +of the ocean. Oh, a great little man is Corporal +Try!”</p> +<p>“I know it,” replied Jessie, “and I’ve joined +his company; so if you meet little Impulse the +wizard, please tell him not to come here again +unless he wishes to be beaten with a big club +called good resolution.”</p> +<p>“Bravely spoken, Lady Jessie! May you +never desert the Corporal’s colors! Above all, +may you always obtain grace from above whereby +to conquer yourself, which is the grandest +deed you can possibly perform.”</p> +<p>Jessie sat down to her work-basket, and took +up one of the pieces of cloth for her uncle’s +slippers. But as it was now late in the afternoon +of a dull November day, she could not +see to embroider very well. So she thought she +would go out again and buy the brown worsted +which was needed in working out the figure on +the slippers. Going to the window first, she +noticed that the sky looked cold and bleak. +The wind, too, was whistling mournfully +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +among the branches of the trees, and round +the corners of the house. It was evidently +going to be a cold night. Turning from the +window again, she said to her brother Hugh, +who was sitting very cosily in a large arm-chair +before the glowing fire in the grate:</p> +<p>“Please, Hugh, will you run down to the +village with me? I want to get some worsted +at Mrs. Horton’s.”</p> +<p>“Why didn’t you get it this afternoon?” +asked Hugh in his usual grumpy way when +asked to do any thing.</p> +<p>“I didn’t think of it.”</p> +<p>“Didn’t think of it, eh? Well, I don’t think +I shall be your lackey this cold afternoon. I’d +rather sit here and keep my toes warm.”</p> +<p>“Do go, dear Hugh, please do!” said Jessie +in her mellowest tones. “I shall want the +worsted to-morrow morning.”</p> +<p>“Oh, go to Greenwich! You are always +wanting something. Girls want a mighty sight +of waiting on. I won’t go.”</p> +<p>Jessie turned away from her ungracious +brother wishing, as she had so often done, that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +he “was more like Guy.” Had it been a little +earlier in the afternoon, she would have gone +alone; but as it was nearly dark she preferred +company.</p> +<p>“Oh dear!” sighed she, “what shall I do? I +wish Guy was in.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps you would accept an old man’s +company,” said her uncle, rising and buttoning +up his coat.</p> +<p>“I should be very, very glad to have it, but +I don’t want to trouble you, Uncle,” she replied.</p> +<p>“It’s no trouble to go out with my little puss. +Besides, by going, I can give this drone-like +brother of yours a practical lesson in that love +and politeness which he so much despises. I +shall certainly be happier going with you, than +he will be in the indulgence of his selfishness +before the fire.”</p> +<p>Hugh said something in a grumbling tone +which neither his uncle nor sister understood.</p> +<p>In a few minutes the good old man, having +firm hold of Jessie’s hand, was breasting the +cold wind as they walked smartly along the +frozen road leading to the village. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></p> +<p>“You will have a chance to try your new +skates to-morrow if it is as cold as this all +night,” said Mr. Morris, as they crossed the +bridge over the brook.</p> +<p>“Won’t that be nice?” replied Jessie; “Carrie +Sherwood has a pair too, and we will both +try together. I guess I shall get some bumps +though before I learn to skate well. I wish we +had some one to teach us how to use them.”</p> +<p>“What will you give me, if I consent to be +your teacher?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Uncle Morris! You don’t mean it, do +you?”</p> +<p>“To be sure I do. When I was young they +called me the best skater in town. I could go +through all kinds of movements, and even cut +my name on the ice with my skates. I guess I +haven’t quite forgotten how I used to do it. +But what will you give me if I consent to teach +you?”</p> +<p>“I will love you ever so much, and so will +Carrie.”</p> +<p>“But I thought you loved me ever so much +already?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></p> +<p>“Well, so I do, Uncle. I love you better than +I love anybody in the world, except ma and pa. +But I will love you better and better.”</p> +<p>“That’s pay enough,” said Mr. Morris, +warmly pressing the hand of his niece. “The +pure fresh love of a child’s heart is worth more +to an old man like me than much gold. It +makes my heart grow young again—but what +have we here?”</p> +<p>They had now reached a stone wall which +fronted the estate of Esquire Duncan. An +angle in the fence had made a corner, in which +was seated a girl of about Jessie’s age and size. +She was clothed in rags; her feet were bare. +She had no covering on her head save her +tangled hair. Her face and arms were brown +and dirty. She shivered in the piercing wind, +and traces of recent tears were visible in the +dirt which covered her woe-worn face.</p> +<p>“Poor little girl! I wonder where she lives?” +exclaimed Jessie.</p> +<p>“Where do you live, my dear?” asked Mr. +Morris, addressing the child.</p> +<p>“New York,” replied the outcast curtly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></p> +<p>“How came you here?”</p> +<p>“Mother left me down yonder,” said the girl, +pointing to the four cross-roads just beyond.</p> +<p>“Where is your mother now?”</p> +<p>“Don’t know.”</p> +<p>“What did she say when she left you?”</p> +<p>“She told me to sit on the trough of the +pump while she went to buy some bread. But +she didn’t come back, and I came over here +out of the wind.”</p> +<p>“How long since she left you?”</p> +<p>“Ever so long.”</p> +<p>“Poor little girl! I’m afraid your mother +brought you out here to cast you off, and so get +rid of you,” said Uncle Morris.</p> +<p>“Guess not! Guess she got drunk somewhere,” +said the girl, in a manner so cold and +dogged that Mr. Morris shuddered.</p> +<p>Here, Jessie, whose eyes were swimming +with tears, pulled her uncle’s hand. Taking +him a little aside, she said—</p> +<p>“Please, Uncle, take her home, and let me +give her something to eat.”</p> +<p>“Better take her to the alms-house, I’m +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +thinking,” replied her uncle. “She may be a +wicked girl.”</p> +<p>“Then we can teach her to be good,” said +Jessie.</p> +<p>This was a home thrust that went right to +the good old man’s heart. “The alms-house,” +he thought, “is not a very likely place to grow +goodness in. It is too chilly and heartless. +There will be little sympathy there with the +struggles and sorrows of a child like this; Jessie +shall have her way this time. She shall +go with us.”</p> +<p>After forming this purpose, he looked at his +niece, and said—</p> +<p>“Perhaps you are right, Jessie. The poor +creature shall go home with us, at least, for to-night.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I am <i>so</i> glad, I’m <i>so</i> glad,” cried Jessie, +clapping her hands, then running to the shivering +child, who had been watching them during +this conversation with a puzzled air, she said—</p> +<p>“Come, little girl, you are to go home with +me. Uncle says so.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to. I’ll wait here for mother,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +replied the girl, shrinking back into her corner, +against the rough stone wall.</p> +<p>“My child,” said Mr. Morris, “I fear your +mother has left you here on purpose, and that +she will never come back. If she is in the place, +you shall go to her as soon as we can find her. +If you stay here you will freeze. Come with us +and we will give you a supper, and let you +warm yourself before a rousing fire, while we +search for your mother.”</p> +<p>The idea of supper and a rousing fire took +hold of the little outcast’s feelings. Gathering +her rags close to her chilled body she stepped +forward, and said—</p> +<p>“I’ll go with you.”</p> +<p>“What is your name?” inquired Jessie.</p> +<p>“Madge!” said the child, curtly.</p> +<p>“Madge what?” asked Uncle Morris.</p> +<p>“Madge Clifton!” said the child.</p> +<p>“Which means, I suppose, Margaret Clifton,” +said the old gentleman. “A pretty name +enough, and I wish its owner was in a prettier +condition. But come, let us hasten out of this +cold biting wind.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></p> +<p>Poor little, shivering Madge! Waiting so +long for her mother, alone and in a strange +place, had made her heart heavy and sad. +Her limbs were so stiff with cold she could +scarcely walk, at first. But the kind looks of +the good old gentleman, and the loving words +of Jessie, cheered her on; and in a few minutes +they entered the back door of Glen Morris Cottage.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XI_MADGE_CLIFTON_S_MOTHER' id='XI_MADGE_CLIFTON_S_MOTHER'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Madge Clifton’s Mother.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>“What have you here, my brother?” asked +Mrs. Carlton, as, in response to a message from +Mr. Morris, she entered the kitchen, where +poor Madge sat on a cricket before the range, +looking, as Jessie afterwards said, “like a cat +in a strange garret.”</p> +<p>“She’s a heap o’ rags and dirt, mem,” interposed +the servant, who did not fancy the introduction +of such an unsightly object into her +prim-looking dominions.</p> +<p>“She is a poor, starving, and half-frozen girl, +without any kind mother to take care of her +and love her,” said Jessie, who feared, from +her mother’s looks, that poor Madge was as +unwelcome a guest to her, as she was to the +kitchen-maid.</p> +<p>“She is a poor, little human waif, which has +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +floated to our door on a sea of trouble and +misfortune, sister,” observed Mr. Morris. “If +<i>opportunity</i> is the gate of <i>duty</i>, then we owe it +to this little girl, and to the Great Father who +sent her to our doors, to relieve her wants, and +if needs be, provide for her in future.”</p> +<p>This view of her relation to poor little Madge, +somewhat softened Mrs. Carlton’s feelings. +She was a very kind woman—in fact, she was +nearly all <i>heart</i>—but she was fastidiously neat. +Madge’s dirt and rags had repelled her at first +sight; had shut out from her thoughts, for the +moment, the recollection, that within that covering +of filthy rags, there sat a human creature, +which, had it been loved, and taught, and +trained as her own child had been, might have +been as loving, and as attractive as she. Her +brother’s remark brought this view of Madge’s +case before her, but did not wholly divest her +of her first feelings. Jessie’s instincts led her to +see that her mother was not quite prepared to +take the outcast girl to her affections, and trembling +for the result, she followed up her uncle’s +plea, by saying: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></p> +<p>“We found her cold and hungry, sitting +under a stone wall, waiting for her mother, +who has run away from her. If we had not +brought her home, she would have frozen to +death before morning. Wouldn’t that have +been terrible, Ma?”</p> +<p>“Poor thing!” exclaimed Mrs. Carlton, her +sympathy being now fully aroused, “but, +Brother, why did you not take her to the alms-house, +where they have the means of cleansing +and clothing such unhappy outcasts?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps it would have been more prudent, +my sister, to have done so; but I took counsel +of your child’s heart, and not of my own prudence. +This is Jessie’s <i>protégé</i>. When she +pleaded in her behalf, I thought I would do for +Madge, what I and you would wish another to +do for Jessie, should she ever, by any sad +reverse of fortune, become an outcast child.”</p> +<p>“Halloo, what little dolly mop have you got +here?” cried Hugh, who, at this juncture, +bounded into the kitchen to see what was going +on.</p> +<p>“Poor little creature! She has had a hard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +road to travel, thus far, I guess,” said Guy, +who accompanied his brother. Hugh looked +at the child’s appearance only. Guy, like his +uncle and Jessie, viewed her as a human being +in distress.</p> +<p>All this time, the object of these comments, +stared strangely about, looking, now at the +things around her, and then into the faces of +the different persons in the group. At first, +she seemed indifferent to their remarks. But +when Hugh called her a little dollymop, her +large, black eyes flashed angrily upon him. +Guy’s kind words and tones disarmed her, +however, and a pearl-like tear rolled down her +cheeks.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mrs. Carlton, with a sigh of +resignation to circumstances, “the poor thing is +here, and must be cared for.” Then turning to +the servant, she added, “Take the poor child +into the bath-room. Give her a thorough +cleansing and combing, while I look out some +of Jessie’s clothes for her. Take those rags she +has on, and throw them on the dirt heap!”</p> +<p>The party in the kitchen now broke up. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +Uncle Morris, the boys, and Jessie, went into +the parlor, where they found Mr. Carlton, who +had just returned from the city. He approved +of what Uncle Morris had done, but thought it +best to inquire, at once, for Madge’s mother at +the village tavern. As there was yet an hour +to spare before tea, he took Guy, and started in +pursuit of the heartless mother.</p> +<p>Where was she? After leaving Madge at +the pump, she had gone to the tavern, and +purchased some gin. After drinking a large +glass of the fiery liquor, she put down the glass +and the money, looking so ravenously at the +sparkling decanter, that the landlord feared she +was going crazy. Reaching her skinny fingers +out towards the bottle, she said, in a screeching +voice: “Give me another glass!”</p> +<p>Hardly knowing what he was about, the +landlord filled her glass a second time. She +swallowed its contents at a single gulp, and demanded +more. Alarmed at her manner the man +refused. Then her anger awoke. She poured +forth a volley of strange and fearful words. +The passers-by came in to see what was the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +matter. To be rid of her tongue and to save +the reputation of his house, as he said, the landlord +called in his stable-boys, and they hurled +her into the street.</p> +<p>There she drew upon herself the attention of +Jem Townsend and the crew of idle boys which +usually accompanied him. They gathered +round the unhappy woman, as she sat on the +edge of the curb-stone cursing the tavern-keeper, +and began to tease her.</p> +<p>“Fuddled, eh?” said Jem Townsend, laughing. +Then he added, “What do you do here, +Lady Ginswiller? Rather a cold seat this for +a lady, eh? Better walk into old Bottlenose’s +best parlor, hadn’t ye?”</p> +<p>Upon this the poor maudlin creature cursed +louder than ever. The wicked urchins laughed +and hooted in turn, until she rose in a fit of +passion and pursued them.</p> +<p>The boys ran down the village street, pausing +now and then to quicken her rage by some +biting words. And thus they led her at last to +the vicinity of a low grocery. Drawn by the +scent of rum, like the vulture to its quarry, she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +staggered into the grocery, laid down her last +sixpence on the bar, and muttered, “Give me a +drink of rum.”</p> +<p>It was given her. She drank the wretched +stuff, and reeling to the door-step, fell down insensibly +drunk. What a spectacle of pity! +And yet that poor, pitiable creature had once +been a fair and lovely girl, as full of life and +hope as she was of health and beauty. But +now, alas, how fallen! What had done it? +The wine cup, used in circles of fashion, began +the work of ruin. Rum and gin were doing +their best to finish it.</p> +<p>Finding they could not rouse her, the boys +ran off to Mr. Tipstaff, the constable, and told +him about her. That worthy repaired to the +spot. Aided by one or two others he dragged +her to a magistrate’s office; and he sent her to +jail as a common vagrant.</p> +<p>These facts were all told to Mr. Carlton and +Guy by the landlord of the hotel, who painted +the poor woman in very dark colors. After +calling on the magistrate and requesting that +the prisoner might be detained the next day +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +until it was ascertained certainly that she was +Madge’s mother, he and Guy returned home +with sad hearts. They talked the matter over +as they walked. Among other questions, Guy +asked:</p> +<p>“Do <i>many</i> women become drunkards, Pa?”</p> +<p>“Yes, a great many; though drunken women +are not so common as drunken men, by far.”</p> +<p>“It always makes me feel bad to see a tipsy +man; but when I once saw a tipsy <i>woman</i> in +New York, it made me shudder. How do +<i>women</i> learn to drink, Pa? They don’t go to +the tavern like men, do they?”</p> +<p>“Not at first, Guy. Usually they begin at +home, or at parties, or when stopping at the +great hotels, where wine is drunk at the dinner-table. +In many families, also, wine is used at +the table, and fathers and mothers teach their +daughters to drink it as a daily beverage. But +generally, I believe, ladies begin their habit of +drinking wine at parties, taking it, at first, not +from choice, but because they don’t like to be +thought singular.”</p> +<p>“But I don’t see how drinking a little wine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +at a party can teach a lady to be a drunkard, +Pa,” remarked Guy.</p> +<p>“It does not do so, my son, in every case. +But too often a lady will acquire an appetite for +wine, which gradually grows stronger and +stronger until she cannot control it. This appetite +is not awakened in all who drink, but it +<i>may</i> be. Hence, it is better for all, boys, girls, +men, and women, not to touch the drink that is +in the drunkard’s bowl.”</p> +<p>“So I think, Pa,” said Guy, “and therefore, I +mean to be a tee-totaler as long as I live.”</p> +<p>“That’s right, my son. It is always best to +keep as far from a dangerous place as possible.”</p> +<p>When Mr. Carlton and Guy reached home, +tea was ready, and they went at once to the +cheerful table. Jessie could scarcely wait while +the blessing was asked, so impatient was she to +know if Madge’s mother had been found. As +soon, therefore, as Uncle Morris ceased speaking, +she broke forth and said:</p> +<p>“O Pa! you don’t know how nice Madge +will look when she is washed and dressed. +Please tell me if you have seen her mother?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span></p> +<p>“No, I have not <i>seen</i> her,” replied her father, +smiling.</p> +<p>Jessie’s face brightened. She had been fearing +that Madge would have to go away if her +mother was found. Looking archly at her father, +she said—</p> +<p>“I’m <i>so</i> glad. <i>Now</i> poor Madge can stay +here!”</p> +<p>“Why, Jessie, you surprise me,” said Mrs. +Carlton. “Is it any thing to be glad about, +that a little girl has lost her mother?”</p> +<p>With a blush mantling her cheek: the little +girl exclaimed—</p> +<p>“Her mother is a wicked woman, Ma, and +don’t make her happy, nor teach her to be +good. If Madge has lost her, and you let her +live with us and be a mother to her, she will be +a good deal better off, and much happier than +she could be with her own mother.”</p> +<p>“Spoken like a philosopher!” exclaimed +Uncle Morris. “The loss of a drunken mother +is not, indeed, a thing to mourn over, especially +if that loss brings with it the gain of a home in +which Love is the perpetual President—but I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +suspect from your pa’s looks that Madge’s +mother is not wholly lost, yet.”</p> +<p>“<i>Why!</i> didn’t pa say he couldn’t find her?” +said Jessie, looking with a puzzled air at her +father.</p> +<p>“Not exactly, my dear,” replied Mr. Carlton. +“I said I had not <i>seen</i> her, which is true; but I +have <i>heard</i> of her, as I suppose; for a strange +woman did go to the tavern about the time +Madge was left, and is now in jail as a drunken +vagrant.”</p> +<p>“Oh, how shocking!” exclaimed Jessie.</p> +<p>Mr. Carlton now told all he had heard about +the supposed Mrs. Clifton, and it was agreed +that Uncle Morris should see her in the morning +and learn if she was, indeed, the poor +child’s mother.</p> +<p>After tea, Jessie hurried to the kitchen to +look after her <i>protégé</i>. She found her so +changed by her washing and new dress, that +notwithstanding her high expectations, she +could hardly believe her to be the same Madge +she had seen sitting there an hour before. But +Madge it was, as bright and good-looking a girl +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +as could be found anywhere, in or out of Duncanville.</p> +<p>“Have you had enough to eat, Madge?” inquired +Jessie, scarcely knowing how to act the +part of an agreeable hostess.</p> +<p>“Indade, miss, but she has eaten more like +a hungry pig than a gal,” said Mary, before +Madge had time to reply.</p> +<p>Jessie could not keep from laughing at +Mary’s not very complimentary comparison. +Hence, she turned her head so as not to hurt +the little girl’s feelings. As soon as she could +make her face straight and sober again, she sat +down beside Madge, and taking her hand, +said—</p> +<p>“Would you like to see my doll?”</p> +<p>But Madge had other and higher thoughts +than of dolls or playthings. She was in a sort +of wonder-world. She could not satisfy herself +with regard to the meaning of the change +brought about in her during the last hour or +two. That pleasant kitchen, the neat dress she +wore, the bath by which she had been cleansed +from the filth of poverty, the pleasant faces she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +had seen, and the kind voices she had heard, +all seemed to her like a gay dream, and she was +expecting, ay, and fearing too, that the next +minute she should awake and find herself sitting +and shivering in the cold wind, under the stone +wall, waiting for her ungentle mother. But +when Jessie touched her hand and spoke so +kindly to her, every thing seemed real, and her +heart sent up gushes of gratitude to the little +friend who, like some good fairy, had conjured +away her rags, and pain, and cold, and hunger. +After gazing silently into Jessie’s eyes a few +moments, as if she was trying to look into her +soul, she said—</p> +<p>“Little girl, will you let me love you?”</p> +<p>“To be sure I will, and I will love <i>you</i> too,” +replied Jessie, in tones that seemed like angel’s +music to the little outcast, whose ears had long +been unfamiliar with loving words.</p> +<p>Then Jessie threw an arm round Madge and +pressing her to her bosom, gave her a kiss. +Oh, how warmly did the outcast girl return it! +She clung to Jessie as the wild vine does to the +supporting branch, and embraced her with an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +ardor which told more eloquently than words +could utter it, how grateful she was for the love +which Jessie had offered her.</p> +<p>When Madge withdrew her arms from Jessie, +she sat back in her chair and gazed at her long +and silently. After a time the tears filled her +eyes, and in broken accents she asked—</p> +<p>“Does any one know where my mother is?”</p> +<p>Jessie told her she was probably in the village, +and that she would, most likely, see her +in the morning. Madge begged hard to be +taken to her that night, but was finally persuaded +to wait until the morrow.</p> +<p>“That child has a great deal of <i>heart</i>,” said +Uncle Morris, after hearing Jessie’s account of +her interview with Madge. “We must do +what we can to rescue her from the influence of +her drunken mother.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XII_LITTLE_IMPULSE_BEATEN_AGAIN' id='XII_LITTLE_IMPULSE_BEATEN_AGAIN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Little Impulse beaten again.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>After breakfast the next morning, Jessie sat +down to her work with a resolute will. Her +<i>impulse</i>, was to spend the hours playing with +Madge. But her purpose to act by rule was +strong, and it conquered. Guy went out for +the brown worsted, which her meeting with +Madge, kept her from buying the previous +evening. So giving her <i>protégé</i> a seat on a +cricket by her side, she worked merrily, and +with nimble fingers, on her uncle’s slippers. +The tongues of the two girls, you may be sure, +were as nimble as Jessie’s fingers.</p> +<p>While they were thus happily employed, +Uncle Morris was out, looking after the young +outcast’s mother.</p> +<p>Jessie had not been seated more than an +hour before her brother Hugh, with his friend, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +Walter Sherwood and his sister Carrie, came in, +each armed with a pair of skates, and well wrapped +up, as was fitting they should be, on a cold +day in November. Carrie bounded into the room +like a fawn, and kissing her friend, exclaimed:</p> +<p>“O Jessie! this is a capital morning for +skating! Walter has found a nice safe place, +and we have come to take you with us.”</p> +<p>This was a strong temptation. Perhaps a +stronger could not have been offered, to incline +her to break her purpose, and drop her work. +There had been no day since her skates had +been given her, in which there had been ice +enough to try them. It was a new amusement, +too, and her heart was set upon it. Hence, an +impulse came over her, to pitch the slipper into +the basket, seize her skates, and hurry away to +the desired spot. In fact, she half rose from +the chair, and words of consent were rising to +her lips, when she thought of the little wizard, +and reseating herself, replied:</p> +<p>“I would like to go ever so much, Carrie, +but I must stay in until dinner-time, and work +on uncle’s slippers.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span></p> +<p>“Bother the slippers! Who cares about +them! Uncle don’t need them, and why +should you be fussing over them,” said Hugh.</p> +<p>“It’s very pleasant to work for your good +old uncle, I dare say, Miss Jessie, but you can +do that in the afternoon. We very much wish +you to join our party this morning,” observed +Walter.</p> +<p>“I know I <i>could</i>,” replied Jessie; “but +mother wishes me to sew or study every morning +until dinner-time, and I have resolved to do +it. I have broken my purpose a great many +times, but I <i>must</i> keep it now, much as I want +to go out skating. Can’t you put off your +party until the afternoon?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit of it!” said Hugh. “Come +Walt, come Carrie, let us be off.”</p> +<p>“I think I will stay with Jessie this morning,” +replied Carrie; “and I invite you, young +gentlemen, to beau us to the skating-ground, +this afternoon!”</p> +<p>“If you won’t go now, you may beau yourselves +for all we,” retorted Hugh in his usual +ungracious way, when treating with his sister. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></p> +<p>“Don’t say <i>so</i>, Hugh,” responded Walter. +“It’s hardly polite. ’Spose you and I go +without the girls this morning, and <i>with</i> them +this afternoon? Eh?”</p> +<p>“As you please!” growled Hugh, swinging +his skates; “only let us be off quick.”</p> +<p>The boys now left, promising to go with the +girls at half-past two in the afternoon. Carrie +laid aside her hood and cloak, which Jessie +took, and laid in a heap upon the table.</p> +<p>“My dear!” observed Mrs. Carlton, who +looked into the room just at that moment; “is +<i>that</i> the place for Carrie’s things?”</p> +<p>A blush tinged Jessie’s cheek. As I have +said before, a want of regard for order, was a +fault which grew out of her impulsive nature. +She did most things in a hurry, and usually with +some other object before her mind at the same +time. While her uncle had been trying to cure +her of the habit of yielding to her impulses, her +mother had also been endeavoring to stimulate +her to cultivate a love of order. No wonder, +then, that she blushed as she went to hang her +friend’s hood and cloak on the stand in the hall. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span></p> +<p>All this time, poor Madge had sat almost +unnoticed. So taken up were they all with +their skating party, that they had overlooked +the quiet maiden, sitting so demurely on her +cricket. But now the boys were gone, and the +two friends took their seats, Jessie’s thoughts +came back to the young outcast, and turning to +Carrie, she said:</p> +<p>“Carrie, let me introduce you to Madge +Clifton.”</p> +<p>“How do you do, miss?” said Carrie, bowing.</p> +<p>Poor Madge did not know much about introductions, +and was unused to company. So she +only blushed, hung down her head, and replied:</p> +<p>“Pretty well, thank ye.”</p> +<p>Jessie now took Carrie aside, and in whispers +told her poor Madge’s story, after which they +resumed their seats. Carrie’s warm heart soon +melted away the poor outcast’s fears; and while +the two young ladies were merrily prattling +away, Madge listened with wonder if not with +delight. In fact, her life since last evening +seemed more like a dream than a reality to her. +She was still in fairy-land. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span></p> +<p>Presently the postman came to the house +bringing a letter addressed to “Miss Jessie +Carlton.” The servant took it to Jessie on a +small salver.</p> +<p>“Is it for me?” cried Jessie, taking it up and +examining the address.</p> +<p>“Whom can it be from?” asked Carrie, leaning +over to her friend’s side to see the handwriting.</p> +<p>“Oh, I know!” exclaimed Jessie. “It’s from +cousin Emily.”</p> +<p>The letter was opened, and Jessie read aloud +as follows:</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<div class='ra'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Morristown,</span> N. J., November 18, 18—.</p> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>My Dear Jessie</span>:</p> +<p>I got home nicely from your +house. Ma was very glad to see us, and so was +pa. Charlie said he was glad to get home. I +was some glad and some sorry. It was pleasant +to see pa and ma again, but I missed you, oh! +ever so much! When I went up to my room +that night, I sat down and cried. I thought +over all the naughty things I had said and done +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +to you while I was at Glen Morris, until it +seemed to me I was the most wicked girl in the +world. I thought of you and of dear Uncle +Morris and his good advice, until my heart +seemed broken. Then I kneeled down and +asked God to make me a good girl like you. I +begin to believe he will, for I have been trying +hard to be good ever since. Mother says I am +a very good girl already; but she don’t know +what passes in my thoughts, nor how hard I +have to strive to keep down my ugly, wicked +temper. Charlie is not quite so wicked as he +was, either, and I am trying to make him a +good boy. I wish you would come to Morristown +and make me a good long visit. With +much love to yourself, and your good Ma, Pa, +and Uncle Morris, I am</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p>Your affectionate cousin,</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Emily Morris.</span></p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>To Miss Jessie Carlton.</span></p> +</div> + +</div> +<p>“What a beautiful letter!” said Carrie. +Jessie was silent. She was thinking. She +was secretly rejoicing, too. Such a joy was in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +her young heart as had never welled up in it +before. She had done Emily good. As Guy +had led Richard Duncan into right paths, so she +had led Emily. Happy, happy Jessie!</p> +<p>Just then she heard Uncle Morris’s night-key +lifting the latch of the hall door. Away she +bounded from her seat, almost overturning poor +Madge in her hurry. Rushing to her uncle as +he was closing the door, she seized his arm with +one hand while she held up Emily’s letter in the +other, and in a loud, earnest whisper, said:</p> +<p>“O Uncle! Cousin Emily is trying to be +good. She says so in her letter.”</p> +<p>Uncle Morris stooped to imprint a kiss on the +upturned lips of the eager child. Then patting +her head gently, he said:</p> +<p>“It is not every sower of good seed that finds +his harvest sheaf so quickly as you have done. +Perhaps the Great Husbandman has given my +Jessie hers to encourage her to sow, and sow, +and sow again—but Jessie, I have found your +Madge’s mother.”</p> +<p>“Have you, <i>truly</i>?” asked Jessie, feeling her +interest suddenly revived in her <i>protégé</i>. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></p> +<p>“Yes. Come with me to your mother’s room +and I will tell you all about it.”</p> +<p>This “mother’s room” was up-stairs, and up +they went. Finding Mrs. Carlton there with +her seamstress, they sat down, and Uncle Morris +told his story. Said he:</p> +<p>“I have seen Mrs. Clifton. She is sober this +morning, and is quite a well-bred, intelligent +woman. She has been respectable; was well +married to a reputable man. But foolishly forsaking +their quiet country home, they went to +the city in the hope of acquiring property. +There her husband, failing to get work, took to +drinking and died. Mrs. Clifton buried him, +and, dreading to go back to her old home because +of poverty, tried to support herself by +needle-work. In an evil hour she took to drinking; +first as a stimulant to labor, and then as a +cordial to soothe her griefs. Of course she soon +sank very low, and made poor Madge go out to +beg. At last, stung with remorse, she resolved +to quit the city, and, seeking work in the +country, become a sober woman again. Filled +with this purpose she travelled as far as Duncanville +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +with her child, when her appetite for +drink came upon her. Leaving Madge at the +Four Corners she sought the tavern. The rest +you know. <i>We</i> found the child, and <i>she</i> spent +the night in the lock-up.”</p> +<p>“Poor thing!” exclaimed Mrs. Carlton.</p> +<p>“Poor little Madge!” cried Jessie, who very +naturally felt more for the unfortunate child, +than for the unhappy, but guilty mother.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Morris, “but pity alone +won’t do them much good. The question is, +what shall be done with them?”</p> +<p>“True,” rejoined Mrs. Carlton, “but are you +sure the woman’s story is true?”</p> +<p>“It agrees with the account Madge gave of +herself, so far as the affair of last evening is +concerned. Being true in <i>one</i> thing, I hope it +is in all. She has, however, given me references +to her old friends in the country, and +professes to be very anxious to live a reformed +life. I will write to her friends, but, meanwhile, +what shall we do with her?”</p> +<p>“Let her come here, and stay with Madge?” +suggested Jessie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></p> +<p>Mrs. Carlton looked at her brother, and read +in his eyes an approval of her daughter’s +suggestion.</p> +<p>“Be it so,” said she, “if you think best. I +can keep her busy with her needle, until we +hear from her friends, and something offers. +Perhaps a few days spent in our quiet home, +will confirm her in her feeble purposes to reenter +the way of sobriety.”</p> +<p>“Spoken just like yourself!” said Mr. Morris, +with an expression which showed how greatly +he loved and admired his sister. “I will go +after the poor creature directly.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m <i>so</i> glad Madge’s mother is coming +here to live!” cried Jessie, clapping her hands, +and running down-stairs to tell the good news +to her <i>protégé</i>.</p> +<p>The outcast child looked a gratitude she did +not know how to express, after hearing what +Jessie had to say. She fixed her large, black +eyes, swimming in tears, upon her friendly +hostess, and silently watched her every motion.</p> +<p>“I think it’s very kind of your mother, to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +take a stranger into her house so,” whispered +Carrie.</p> +<p>“So it is,” replied Jessie, who was now busy +with her embroidery on the slipper. “So it is, +but my Uncle Morris says that it is godlike to +be kind, and that if we are kind and loving to +poor people, the great God will honor us, and +care for us.”</p> +<p>Carrie looked at the sweet face of Jessie with +admiration for some time, without saying a +word. At last, to break the silence, she said:</p> +<p>“Won’t we have a good time, skating this +afternoon?”</p> +<p>“I hope so,” said Jessie; “and we will take +Madge with us, shall we?”</p> +<p>“Can you skate, Madge?” asked Carrie.</p> +<p>Madge shook her head. The child was +nervous and uneasy about the coming of her +mother. She was afraid she might come to the +house tipsy, and so offend the friends who +loved her so well.</p> +<p>“Can you <i>slide</i> on the ice?” asked Jessie.</p> +<p>“Yes, ma’am,” replied Madge, evidently getting +to be more and more absent-minded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></p> +<p>“She is thinking about her mother,” whispered +Carrie.</p> +<p>“Yes, don’t let us trouble her,” replied +Jessie.</p> +<p>Quickly sped the bright needle, with its +beautiful worsteds, along the slipper, and quickly +grew into shape the flowers which were to +form the pattern. A happy heart and a resolute +will, make her fingers both nimble and skilful.</p> +<p>By and by, Uncle Morris’s night-key was +heard opening the door-latch again. Jessie +started, listened a moment, then dropped her +work, and taking Madge’s hand, said:</p> +<p>“Your mother is come!”</p> +<p>“Where is she?” asked the child, looking +anxiously toward the door.</p> +<p>“Come with me, I’ll show you,” said Jessie, +taking her by the hand.</p> +<p>They went into the hall. Uncle Morris was +there, and so was Mrs. Clifton. She was a +short, slender, well-formed woman, with large, +dark bloodshot eyes. Her face was pale, her +cheeks hollow, and her hair uncombed. She +was poorly dressed, and yet there was something +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +about her, which told of better things. +As soon as she saw Madge, she ran to her, +folded her nervously to her bosom, and exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Oh! my child! pity your poor, wretched +mother!”</p> +<p>Madge, finding her mother to be sober, grew +cheerful. Her mother, after being taken to the +bath-room, and furnished with some changes of +raiment, was installed in the room with the +seamstress, and then, as waters close up, and +flow on smoothly again, after a little disturbance, +so did affairs at Glen Morris move on +once more, in their wonted quiet course.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIII_THE_SKATINGPARTY' id='XIII_THE_SKATINGPARTY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Skating-Party.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>“Now you can go skating with me, can’t +you?” inquired Carrie Sherwood, as she pushed +her little round face in at the door after +dinner.</p> +<p>“Yes, <i>now</i> I can go,” replied Jessie. “I did +ever so much on my slipper this morning, and +shall get it done by the last of the week.”</p> +<p>“If you stick to it, but I know you <i>won’t</i>,” +said Hugh, interrupting his sister.</p> +<p>Jessie felt a little anger stir in her heart on +hearing this fling at a habit she was trying so +so hard to overcome. But saying to herself, +“never mind, I deserve it,” she merely gave +Hugh a glance of reproof, and was silent.</p> +<p>“I say, that’s ungenerous, Mister Hugh,” observed +Guy, taking up his sister’s case. “You +know Jessie is learning to stick to her purposes, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +and that is more than anybody can say +of you.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be too hard upon a fellow just for a +joke,” replied Hugh, wincing under his brother’s +hit.</p> +<p>“Well, don’t you throw stones at Jessie; at +least, not so long as you live in a glass house +yourself,” said Guy. Then turning to the girls, +he added: “Come girls, get ready, and I’ll go +with you to help Jessie try her new skates.”</p> +<p>“Oh, thank you, you dear good Guy!” replied +Jessie, running to her brother and giving +him a sweet sisterly kiss.</p> +<p>“I think I’ll go, too, if you’ll let me,” said +Hugh.</p> +<p>“You may if you’ll promise not to poke fun +at us if we fall down,” replied Jessie.</p> +<p>“If you do poke fun, master Hugh,” said +Carrie, shaking her head at him, “we will +never consent to let you join our party again!”</p> +<p>“That will be <i>terrible</i>!” exclaimed Hugh, +with mock gravity. “Why I’d rather be drummed +out of our Archery club than be turned off +by the ladies.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span></p> +<p>“Well, you may go this time, if you will +carry my skates,” said Jessie.</p> +<p>“Of course I will; and is there any thing +else, in the small way, that your most humble +servant can do for you?” asked Hugh, bowing +almost to the ground.</p> +<p>A laugh greeted this act of mock humility, +and then all parties prepared to face the +keen breeze in search of recreation on the +ice.</p> +<p>“Where is Madge? is she ready?” shouted +Jessie, as she stood at the foot of the stairs, +warmly muffled for her walk.</p> +<p>“Yes, Miss, here she is,” replied Madge’s +mother, as she came to the top of the stairs, +leading her daughter by the hand.</p> +<p>Madge was dressed in an old plaid cloak, +which had become too small for Jessie, and in a +scarlet hood which had been laid aside for the +same reason.</p> +<p>“A regular little red riding-hood, isn’t she?” +whispered Hugh, to his brother, after taking a +survey of the prim, little black-eyed miss before +him. Then looking sour and angry, he added, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +“But why does Jessie take the beggar’s brat +out with her?”</p> +<p>“Hugh! Hugh! Don’t talk in that way,” +replied Guy, putting his hand playfully over +his brother’s mouth.</p> +<p>“Get out!” cried Hugh, pushing his brother’s +hand away and walking off in high dudgeon, +in search of Walter, who, for some reason, +had not come with his sister. His foolish pride +had kindled anger in his breast.</p> +<p>Madge, with the usual quickness of girls of +her age, had caught enough of Hugh’s words, +and of the meaning of his act, to perceive that +he was disposed to treat her with scorn. A +cloud flitted across her brow, and her eyes +flashed. It was clear that the proud, thoughtless +boy had wounded her feelings.</p> +<p>“Hugh! Hugh! Don’t carry off my skates!” +shouted Jessie, as her brother turned into the +main road, from the lawn.</p> +<p>Whirling the skates over the fence, he kept +on without a word. The skates, fortunately, +fell on a heap of dry leaves and were picked up +uninjured by Guy, who, with the three girls, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +soon found the way to some hollows, in the pasture, +near the brook. These hollows, filled +with shallow pools of water, now solidly frozen, +were excellent places for young misses to slide +and skate in.</p> +<p>Madge was not cheerful this afternoon. +Hugh had wounded her pride, and stirred her +sleeping passions. It was very ungenerous conduct, +in a lad of his age, to treat an unfortunate +child with scorn. Madge ought not to have +allowed her temper to be ruffled. But, alas, +poor child! she had not been taught to keep +her evil temper under control. So she brooded +over Hugh’s conduct. The more she thought +of it, the more chafed and angry she felt.</p> +<p>Guy helped Carrie and his sister put on their +skates. Jessie had never had a skate upon her +foot before. Carrie had learned to use them a +little the previous winter. Hence, she glided +off something like a swan, while Jessie hobbled +and slipped, and tumbled for a long time in vain +attempts to keep upright on the ice.</p> +<p>Carrie was so taken up watching the laughable +attempts of her friend, that she took no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +notice of poor Madge. Guy and Jessie were so +busy, the former teaching, and the latter learning, +that they too forgot her. Poor child! this +neglect stung the wound which Hugh’s act had +caused, and so, with many a frown and pout, +she quietly stole from the hollow to a deeper +one in which, by seating herself on a low stump, +she could remain unseen.</p> +<p>“They is all proud,” mused Madge, half +aloud. “I heard that You, or Hugh, whatever +they call him, say ‘beggar’s brat.’ I know he +meant me, and I know he went off cause I was +with ’em. And there’s them gals; they don’t +care for me a bit. Drat ’em! I wish mother +would go away from here.”</p> +<p>This was very foolish talk for Madge. Had +she looked on the kind side of her new-found +friends, and thought of their gifts to her, and of +the pleasant home they had given her and her +mother for the time-being, and of their gentle +words, she would have seen so much to be grateful +for, that there would have been no room in +her heart for unhappy feelings. But Madge +forgot all these things. She saw nothing but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +Hugh’s scorn and Jessie’s neglect. With these +she tortured herself. It was just as foolish as if +she had taken some sharp thorns and scratched +her arms and cheeks with them.</p> +<p>While Madge was thus making herself miserable, +Jessie was making rare progress with her +skating. After a few awkward falls and a few +bumps and bruises, she learned “<i>the how</i>,” as +Guy called it; and then, though still awkward, +oh! how joyously she sped across the little +pond chasing after Guy and Carrie, and shouting +until the welkin rang again.</p> +<p>“Capital fun, isn’t it?” said she, gliding +ashore, and sitting down on a stone almost out +of breath.</p> +<p>“I call it nice sport for girls,” replied Carrie, +pausing on the edge of the bank; “but you +aren’t tired yet, are you?”</p> +<p>“Yes, a little. Besides, too much of a good +thing, as my uncle says, destroys your relish for +it. I guess I’ve skated enough for once,” said +Jessie, stooping and unbuckling the straps of +her skates.</p> +<p>“Pooh! Jessie’s not half a skater!” rejoined +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +Carrie; “but what has become of your friend +Madge?”</p> +<p>“Sure enough! Where is she? I had forgotten +all about her.”</p> +<p>But Madge had wandered still farther off, +and was nursing her bad feelings in a small +grove which skirted the pasture. She was not +visible from where the girls and Guy were.</p> +<p>“O Guy! Madge is gone. Won’t you please +come and help me find her?” said Jessie, putting +on a very long and sorrowful face.</p> +<p>“I’ll call her. She’s not far off, I’ll bet,” replied +Guy.</p> +<p>Then placing his hands to his lips as a sort of +speaking trumpet, he shouted—</p> +<p>“Madge! Ma-adge! Ma-a-adge!”</p> +<p>“Adge! Adge! Adge!” said an echo from +the distant grove.</p> +<p>“Where can she be!” cried Jessie, now relieved +of her skates and standing on a hillock, +peering eagerly all over the pasture.</p> +<p>“I guess she is only gone home. Never +mind her,” said Carrie. “She ain’t worth +worrying about.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span></p> +<p>“Yes, she is,” replied Jessie. “She is a poor +unhappy girl, and I want to make her good and +happy. Uncle Morris says everybody that +God made is worth caring about, and I <i>do</i> care +for Madge. Oh dear, I wish I knew where to +find her.”</p> +<p>“See there?” cried Guy, pointing to a group +of boys near the distant grove. “I think I +see Madge among those fellows. I’ll lose my +guess if that isn’t Idle Jem and his crew. +There’s a girl among them for certain, but how +could Madge stroll all up there and none of us +see or think of her?”</p> +<p>“Let us go and see,” said Jessie.</p> +<p>Quickly as their nimble fingers could loose +the straps, Carrie and Guy removed their +skates. In a minute or two more, the three +were hurrying across the pasture toward the +boys and girl, whom they saw.</p> +<p>Madge was, indeed, one of that group. Idle +Jem and his crew, while wandering across the +pasture in search of the hickory-nuts which +were hidden under the dead leaves, had found +her in the grove. They began to jibe at her at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +once. The girl long used to the rough news +and beggar boys of the city, and out of temper, +withal, jibed back at them with interest. They +goaded her with harsh words; and when Guy +and the girls came within hearing, she was using +language such as the pure-minded Jessie had +never heard before.</p> +<p>“Hush, Madge!” said Guy, putting his hand +on Madge’s shoulder. “Don’t swear! It’s wicked +to talk so. You go home with Jessie and +Carrie, I’ll take care of these boys.”</p> +<p>That last phrase was an unlucky one for +Guy. The wicked boys took it up as a defiance.</p> +<p>“Take care of us, eh? That’s the talk is it? +How will you do it, old fellow?” said Jem, +sneering and chucking Guy’s chin.</p> +<p>“Keep your hands off me, if you please,” said +Guy; “I want nothing of you only to let that +poor girl alone.”</p> +<p>“It’s none of your business what we say to +that gal,” said Noll Crawford.</p> +<p>“Yes, it is my business to see that you +let her entirely alone,” replied Guy firmly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +“So stand off, and let us take her quietly +a way.”</p> +<p>“Shan’t do nothin’ of the kind,” said Peter +Mink, running toward Madge, whose eyes +flashed fire.</p> +<p>Guy grasped him by the collar and hurled +him back from Madge, amidst the tears and +cries of Carrie and Jessie who were both very +much frightened.</p> +<p>“Oh! oh! a fight is it you want? Come +I’ll fight with ye!” said Idle Jem, slipping +up to Guy, and raising his fists as if for a +battle.</p> +<p>“I never fight!” replied Guy. “Besides, +we have nothing to fight about. I only wish +you to let my little friend, Madge, alone.”</p> +<p>“She!” retorted Jem, “that swearing cat +your friend, Master Guy Carlton. Pooh! You +don’t have swearing gals among your friends, I +know. That gal is some beggar’s brat, and we +only want to have some fun with her.”</p> +<p>Jem’s tone was much lowered toward the latter +part of his speech. His hands, too, fell as +if by instinct to his pockets. Peter Mink and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +Noll Crawford drew back, the latter saying as +he did so—</p> +<p>“Come, Jem, let’s leave the spunky little +gentleman and his friend, Madge, to themselves. +I’d rather pick up hickory nuts than +listen to his gab.”</p> +<p>“Discretion always is the better part of valor, +as Uncle Morris says,” thought Guy, as he +walked away with his sisters, patting the head +of old Rover.</p> +<p>It was the coming up of old Rover which had +cooled off Idle Jem and his crew. The dog +had been strolling about the pasture while +Jessie was skating. Having missed his young +master and mistress on returning to the pond, +the faithful fellow had followed them. He +came up just at the right moment. His rows +of big white teeth, and his low growl, taught +the idlers the discretion which Guy praised and +which led them to cease their angry jibes. +With Guy alone they might have contended. +But Rover was an enemy they had not courage +to face.</p> +<p>To the wounded pride and the ill temper of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +Madge, shame was now added. The kind and +gentle Jessie had heard her <i>swear</i>, had seen her +face flushed with passion, had had a glimpse +into the dark corner of her evil nature. Poor +Madge! She sullenly refused to speak or to +permit either of the party to take her hand; +but lagging behind the rest, she silently followed +them home.</p> +<p>Jessie bade her friend, Carrie, good-by in +front of Mr. Sherwood’s cottage. As they +kissed each other, Carrie put her mouth to +Jessie’s ear and whispered—</p> +<p>“Jessie, shall I tell you what I think about +Madge?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t trouble my head about her any +more, if I were you. She is a terribly wicked +creature!”</p> +<p>Jessie sighed, but said nothing. On reaching +home finding no one at liberty to talk with +her, she went to her chamber and getting her +writing materials and her portfolio, went down +into the parlor and wrote the following answer +to her cousin Emily’s letter: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<div class='ra'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Glen Morris Cottage, Duncanville, Nov. —, 18—.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Cousin:</span></p> +<p>I was glad to receive your letter, +and to learn that you were all well at Morristown. +I cannot tell you how happy it made +me to hear that you are trying to be good. I +wish I was good all the time, but, as Uncle +Morris says, it is so much easier to do wrong +than it is to do right. I can’t tell you how +much I love our dear uncle, for he is always +helping me to be good. He says a good heart +is God’s gift, and that we must ask him to give +it to us for the sake of his dear Son. Well, I +ask for a good heart three times every day, and +if you do so too, God will hear you and bless +you.</p> +<p>What do you think? Yesterday I found a +poor girl named Madge in the road near +the pump at the four corners. You know the +place. Well, I asked Uncle Morris to take her +home and he did. Her mother is here too. I +thought Madge was so nice, and would learn to +be good <i>so</i> easy, that I began to love her dearly. +But to-day, she swore dreadfully and wouldn’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +speak to me. Isn’t it fearful? I’m afraid I +shan’t be able to love her as I want to any +more. Oh dear! I’m so sorry. Well, you and I +must try to be good. Give my love to uncle +and aunt, and to Charlie, and believe me to be</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p>Your affectionate Cousin,</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Jessie Carlton.</span></p> +</div> + +<p>P. S. I’ve almost finished Uncle Morris’s slippers. J. C.</p> +</div> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIV_THE_WATCHPOCKET_FINISHED' id='XIV_THE_WATCHPOCKET_FINISHED'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Watch-Pocket finished.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>“Well, Jessie, how do you like your black-eyed +<i>protégé</i>?” asked Uncle Morris, a few days +after the events recorded in the last chapter.</p> +<p>“Pretty—well—but—but—”</p> +<p>“But what?” said Uncle Morris, with an +arch glance, for he saw that Jessie was loth to +speak the thought that lingered in her mind.</p> +<p>“Well, I like Madge, Uncle, but as ma says, +she is not quite an <i>angel</i>,” and Jessie laughed +as if there was something funny in her mother’s +saying.</p> +<p>“I suppose she is not. Did my puss ever +hear of angels being found, as we found Madge, +dressed in rags, and shivering under a stone wall?”</p> +<p>“No, uncle, but, but—”</p> +<p>“There you are <i>but</i>-ing again,” said Mr. +Morris. “Why not out with it at once, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +say that you did not expect to find so many +faults in poor Madge, as you have found?”</p> +<p>“Because I don’t like to speak evil of her, +and yet I do wish she wouldn’t have those ugly +spells come over her. Sometimes she is so +gentle and grateful, that I begin to love her +dearly. Then all at once, she will be so cross +and ugly, that I begin to repent having asked +you to bring her home with us.”</p> +<p>Mr. Morris looked at his perplexed niece in +silence for nearly a minute. He was thinking +how to impress her mind with the moral taught +by her disappointment respecting Madge. At +last he very gravely said:</p> +<p>“Jessie!”</p> +<p>“What is it, Uncle?” asked Jessie, surprised +at her uncle’s manner.</p> +<p>“Shall I tell you plainly, why you <i>feel</i> so +much disappointed in poor Madge?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Sir.”</p> +<p>“Well, it is because your kindness to her +was mixed with a good deal of <i>selfishness</i>.”</p> +<p>“O Uncle Morris!” exclaimed Jessie; “how +can you say so?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span></p> +<p>“Because I really think so;” replied Mr. +Morris.</p> +<p>“Well, you are a funny man, if you think so, +Uncle! How <i>could</i> I be selfish, in wishing you +to bring that poor child home? I’m sure I +didn’t expect to gain any thing by it.” Here +Jessie pouted a little, for she was really piqued +by what her uncle had said. Seeing this, Mr. +Morris replied:</p> +<p>“I hope my little puss is not going to be +angry with her poor old uncle, because he +seeks to tell her the truth.”</p> +<p>“Well, no; but really, I don’t see how you +can think me selfish, just for wishing you to +bring a poor, freezing child, to our house,” and +with this remark, Jessie forced back the smile +which usually played round her lips, while she +looked earnestly into her uncle’s eyes.</p> +<p>“Will my little puss answer me a question +or two?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Sir.”</p> +<p>“Tell me then, my dear child, did you not +expect to derive a great deal of <i>pleasure</i> from +Madge’s gratitude, and love, and obedience to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +yourself? Did you not look upon yourself as +her benefactor, her teacher, her superior, and +as having a right to claim such conduct from +her, as would, in some degree, pay you for your +trouble and kindness? You expected her, poor +thing, to behave like an angel, for your sake. +Instead of that, she has, at times, let her evil +nature and her bad habits break out, in a way +to give you trouble and pain, and to cause you +to feel disappointment. Are not these things +so, my sweet little puss?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Sir. But—but <i>ought</i> not poor people +to be grateful and obedient to those who help +them?” asked Jessie, who, though she began to +perceive that a regard for her own pleasure had +been mixed with the kindness to Madge, was +not quite ready to plead guilty to her good +uncle’s charge.</p> +<p>“They <i>ought</i> certainly, and when they do, it +is very right for those who help them, to take +pleasure in their gratitude. But that is a very +different thing, from doing good <i>for the sake of +the pleasure or profit we expect to derive from +the conduct of those we benefit.</i>” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span></p> +<p>Uncle Morris then went on to show Jessie, +that really good people were kind to the poor +and wretched, because it is their duty to be so; +that they seldom found their reward, either in +the gratitude of those they helped, or in the +smiles of men; that instead of finding such +rewards, they were often blamed and treated +harshly by the public, and ungratefully by +their <i>protégés</i>; but that they had a rich reward, +nevertheless. They felt, he said, a very sweet +satisfaction in themselves; they were smiled +upon by the Father and Saviour of men; and +they would, in the better land, be more than +rewarded with mansions, robes, crowns, and +honors, which selfish people would forever envy +but never enjoy.</p> +<p>This talk with her uncle did Jessie good. +She afterwards bore Madge’s outbreaks of temper +with more patience, and tried to set her +such an example as would make her feel her +own faults far more than by scolding or fretting.</p> +<p>Madge, who was very quick-witted, saw and +felt the change in Jessie, and she, too, tried to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +overcome herself, that she might not grieve a +friend, who loved her so truly and so well.</p> +<p>One morning Jessie awoke, and was surprised +to see the lawn, the trees, and the fences all +white with snow. It was a beautiful sight. +She had never seen snow in the country before. +Having dressed herself, she ran down-stairs, and +going to the piazza, clapped her hands, and cried:</p> +<p>“Oh, how pretty those evergreens look! +That pine-tree is perfectly beautiful!”</p> +<p>“Ah, Jessie, is that you?” said Guy, as he +came round the winding path, plunging through +the soft snow with his thick boots, and dragging +his sled after him.</p> +<p>“Yes, I’m here,” replied Jessie. “But where +have <i>you</i> been with your sled before breakfast?”</p> +<p>“Been coasting, to be sure. There’s a capital +place in the lane that runs past Carrie +Sherwood’s cottage. We couldn’t do much +this morning but tread down the snow; but +after breakfast, it will be fine. Will you go +with me then, Jessie?”</p> +<p>“I should like to, ever so much, but—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p> +<p>“But what?”</p> +<p>“Well, I must work all the morning. That’s +my rule, you know. I’ll go with you in the +afternoon, Guy.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to tempt you to neglect a +duty,” replied Guy, knocking the snow off his +boots against the step of the piazza, as he +spoke, “but really, I’m afraid the coasting +won’t be worth the heel of an old shoe, by the +afternoon. You see, the sun is very bright, +and the snow isn’t apt to stay long, so early in +the season.”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry,” said Jessie, looking very downcast, +“but I must give it up, I guess. You see, +I’ve finished uncle’s slippers, and have almost +done his watch-pocket. I want to finish it ever +so much before Thanksgiving, which is to-morrow, +you know.”</p> +<p>“That’s right, stick to it, Sister Jessie! I +won’t train in the little wizard’s company, so I +advise you to lose this coasting treat, if the +snow does go, and thereby gain a victory for +which Corporal Try would promote you if he +knew it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></p> +<p>With these words, Guy kissed his sister, +placed his sled in the back-hall, and went to +the breakfast-room, to which he was shortly +followed by Jessie.</p> +<p>At breakfast, the boys discussed the question +of the weather, and the snow very earnestly. +They wanted the snow to last, first, that they +might enjoy the sport of coasting, and then, +that they might have a sleigh ride.</p> +<p>“How I should like a sleigh-ride,” exclaimed +Jessie, with brightening eyes.</p> +<p>“Guess you won’t have it just yet,” said +Hugh. “The sun will melt the snow from the +roads before noon, I guess, and its too light and +loose for good sleighing this morning.”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry, for I do want to coast, and to +ride in a sleigh, so much—ever so much,” said +Jessie, sighing, and looking very sober—for +her.</p> +<p>“Can’t you <i>coast</i> this morning, with the +boys?” inquired Mr. Carlton.</p> +<p>“We don’t want her,” said Hugh, snappishly. +“Girls are always in the way when coasting is +going on.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span></p> +<p>“Ill-natured as ever, I see, Master Hugh,” +observed Uncle Morris.</p> +<p>“I want her,” said Guy, “and will take her +this afternoon, if the snow don’t melt.”</p> +<p>Jessie looked at her brother with eyes that +seemed to say, “What a dear, good brother you +are!” Mr. Carlton asked:</p> +<p>“But why not take her this <i>morning</i>, Guy, +before the snow melts?”</p> +<p>“Because she thinks it is not best to go, Sir,” +replied Guy.</p> +<p>“Ah! ah! Not best to go, eh? What’s +going on at home this morning, Jessie?” asked +Mr. Carlton, looking at his daughter, whose +face was now red with blushes.</p> +<p>“Because Corporal Try won’t let her,” replied +Guy, laughing and coming to her help. +“He has given her a task which he wishes +done before Thanksgiving, and she means to do +it, too, in spite of the little wizard, who sits +perched on my sled, in yonder hall, and saying, +‘Come, let’s have a good time together, this +morning.’”</p> +<p>“Bravo! If this was the proper place, I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +would propose three cheers for Jessie Carlton, +and her friend the Corporal,” said Uncle Morris. +Then turning to Mrs. Carlton, he added, “By +the way, sister, do you know that I expect to +hear of a wedding before long?”</p> +<p>“Indeed! Who are going to be married +now?”</p> +<p>“No less a personage than that pesky little +dwarf, who has given my little puss so much +trouble. I learn that he has popped the question +to Miss Perseverance, and if nothing happens, +they will soon be joined in wedlock, by +Parson Good-Resolution.”</p> +<p>Of course this quaint way of praising Jessie +for her self-denial and self-conquest caused a +good hearty laugh all round the table. Jessie’s +cheeks bloomed like roses, and her heart went +pit-a-pat with joy-beats. A happier breakfast +party could scarcely have been found that +morning in or out of Duncanville.</p> +<p>To increase the flow of Jessie’s delight, +shortly after she had taken her seat in her own +pretty little chair, her uncle entered the parlor +with merriment in his eyes, and said: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span></p> +<p>“Sew away, my little puss. The north wind +is on your side, and in spite of the bright sun +will keep the snow from melting, so that you +may coast after dinner with Guy and your +friend Carrie, and take a sleigh-ride, too, at +three o’clock with a funny old gentleman named +Morris. What do you say to that my puss, eh?”</p> +<p>“I’m <i>so</i> glad, I don’t know what to say, +Uncle. But, see here! (and Jessie held up a +purple velvet watch-bag, ornamented with steel +beads.) I shall have it all done by twelve +o’clock!”</p> +<p>“If the little wizard don’t hinder,” suggested +her uncle, laughing and looking roguishly at her.</p> +<p>“Well, he won’t,” said Jessie, shaking her +head. “He is too busy courting Miss Perseverance +to trouble his head about me. Ha! ha!”</p> +<p>Mr. Morris laughed heartily at Jessie’s ready +use of his quaint fancy about the little wizard. +He had no doubt about her firmness. But +shaking his finger at her he said, “Take care! +the little wizard is a cunning fellow, and knows +how to ensnare little misses who have tasks to +perform,” and left the room. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span></p> +<p>Strong in purpose, and cheered by the hope +of the afternoon’s pleasure, Jessie worked with +such vigor on her watch-pocket, that she had +put on the last bead, sewed the last stitch, and +trimmed off the last loose thread before the +clock struck twelve. Then she felt happier far +than any child ever did in the enjoyment of +pleasures gained by the neglect of duty. She +had conquered a difficulty, had won a victory, +had done a duty—had she not a right to be +happy?</p> +<p>I could almost wish myself a child again for +the sake of tasting that fresh, perfect, unmixed +delight which welled up from Jessie’s heart on +the afternoon of that clear December day. +First came the play of coasting. Taking her +on his sled—“The Never-say-die”—Guy drew +her to the lane near Mr. Sherwood’s cottage +and amused her until the merry sleigh-bells +caused her to turn round. Then she saw a +splendid sleigh drawn by two noble horses, and +driven by a man who, from the way he handled +the whip and reins, seemed born to be a +coachman. Her mother and Uncle Morris +were in the sleigh. She stepped in. Carrie and +Guy followed. Having wrapped themselves +up well in the buffalo robes, word was given to +the driver, and away they dashed down the +road.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +<img src='images/illus4.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 391px; height: 544px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 391px;'> +<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Walter Sliding With Carrie and Jessie.</span> Page 227.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>Merrily jingled the dancing bells, swiftly +trotted the lively horses, smoothly glided the +steel-shod sleigh over the snowy pathway, passing +houses, barns, and fields, as Guy said, with +the speed almost of a steam-engine. On they +went, mile after mile, drinking in health and +spirits from the pure winter air and tasting that +real enjoyment which is found in innocent +pleasures only. No wicked amusement ever did +or ever can yield such delight as Jessie and her +friends tasted on that sleigh ride.</p> +<p>It was quite dark when they reached home +again. They were a little chilled with their +ride, but the glowing fire which burned so +cheerfully in the parlor grate, soon restored +them to warmth and comfort. The tea-table +was made cheerful by Jessie’s account of the +sports and pleasures of the afternoon.</p> +<p>After tea Jessie took Guy into the kitchen, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +and taking the watch-pocket from beneath her +apron, said—</p> +<p>“Guy, I want you to go with me into Uncle +Morris’s chamber, and help me fix a hook to +hang this watch-pocket on. I want to give +uncle a surprise.”</p> +<p>Guy gave his consent. Going to the nail-box +he selected a small brass hook, with a screw at +the end, and a gimlet. Then taking a light, he +went up-stairs with his sister. Jessie pointed +to the spot, over his bed, which she thought the +best place for the hook. Guy bored the hole, +screwed in the hook, and hung the pocket by its +loop of braid upon it. Jessie clapped her +hands, and said—</p> +<p>“Isn’t it pretty! Won’t Uncle Morris be +pleased! My <i>quilt</i> covers his bed. The <i>slippers</i> +I made him are under his chair, and now my +<i>watch-pocket</i> hangs over his bedstead. I’ll get +his chair-cushion done next, and then I guess +he will allow that I’m fit to be an officer in +your Try Company. Ha! Ha! Ha!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XV_THANKSGIVING_DAY' id='XV_THANKSGIVING_DAY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +<h3><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Thanksgiving Day.</span></h3> +</div> + +<p>The next morning was mild and clear. A +bright sun shone gloriously forth, and aided by +light airs from the south, softened the snow and +made every thing, but the walking, as pleasant +as nature ever is on a December day. It was +thanksgiving day, too—thanksgiving was appointed +in December that year—and all the inmates +of Glen Morris arose in high spirits, expecting +to spend that festal day in calm and +quiet enjoyment.</p> +<p>At the breakfast-table, Uncle Morris excited +some surprise, by putting on a very grave +countenance, and saying—</p> +<p>“Some persons must have entered my room, +last night!”</p> +<p>“Entered your room!” exclaimed Mrs. Carlton, +turning a little pale, and forgetting what +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +she was about, so far as to overflow the cup she +was filling with coffee.</p> +<p>“Did they steal any thing, Uncle?” asked +Hugh, in a voice made husky by the alarm he +felt at the idea of burglars having been in the +house.</p> +<p>“Mind, my dear, you are flooding the tea-tray +with coffee,” said Mr. Carlton, pointing to +the overflow of coffee in front of his lady.</p> +<p>“Did you see them?” inquired Jessie, also +pale with alarm.</p> +<p>These questions were put so rapidly one after +the other, that Uncle Morris had no chance to +explain himself for a few moments. Silence, +however, followed Jessie’s question. Then the +old gentleman relaxed his muscles, smiled, and +said—</p> +<p>“I neither saw nor heard the intruders; yet, +I found unquestionable marks of their having +been in my room. They even made a hole in +one of the walls! Yet, strange as it may +appear, they not only took nothing away, but, +on the contrary, they left one of the sweetest +little chamber ornaments behind them I ever +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +saw. Such burglars are welcome to enter my +room every night!”</p> +<p>“O Uncle Morris! I know what you mean,” +said Jessie, laughing, and shaking her forefinger +at him.</p> +<p>Mr. Morris’s last words and his changed manner, +had, of course, relieved all parties of their +alarm, though none but Guy and his sister +knew precisely what he meant.</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t wonder if you did. Even the +bird knows where it finds food, much more +should intruders know where they intruded,” +replied Uncle Morris.</p> +<p>Jessie then looked at her mother, and said—</p> +<p>“Ma, Uncle means me and Guy, by his +intruders. We went into his room last night to +hang his watch-pocket over his bedstead.”</p> +<p>“But what about the hole in the wall, Jessie? +Did you and Guy dig that?” asked Hugh.</p> +<p>“Ha, ha, ha! That’s only Uncle Morris’s +fun. Guy bored a little hole with his gimblet, +to screw in the hook which was meant to hang +the pocket on; that’s all,” replied Jessie.</p> +<p>“No, that wasn’t all, either,” said Mr. Morris, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +“for my little puss left the cutest little +velvet watch-pocket I ever saw, hanging on the +hook. There was some witchery in it, too, for +it kept me awake over an hour. It seemed to +hop down on to my pillow, and buzz in my ear, +saying, ‘I am a love-gift. The little girl who made +me, made your quilt, made your slippers, and +is going to make you a cushion. A pesky little +creature tried hard to hinder her from doing it, +but her love for you was so strong, she drove +him away. I don’t think there is any other old +gentleman in Duncanville, loved by either +niece or daughter, half so well as you are loved +by the little miss whose nimble fingers made +me!’ Talking thus, the pocket kept me from +going to sleep, until I began to fancy that my +Jessie must have put a fairy into it.”</p> +<p>“O Uncle Morris!” cried Jessie, with a +glowing face and a heart dancing to joy-beats, +as it perceived the affection for her, +which Uncle Morris only partly concealed +under his quaint and fanciful way of speaking. +She craved no higher reward, than these expressions +of his love for her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></p> +<p>After breakfast and family prayers were +over, Mr. Morris turned to his niece, and said:</p> +<p>“Jessie!”</p> +<p>“Yes, Uncle.”</p> +<p>“I am going to take a little walk, before I +go to hear our minister’s Thanksgiving sermon. +Will you go?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, yes. Uncle, I should like it ever so +much.”</p> +<p>During this conversation, Mrs. Carlton had +been looking out at the window. The snow +was dripping from the eaves, and from the +trees. It looked soft and soggy in the path, +and she feared the walking would be too sloppy +for her daughter. So she said:</p> +<p>“It is hardly fit for Jessie to go out walking, +Brother. The slosh will be over her sandals, +and she will get wet feet.”</p> +<p>“Do you think so, Ma? Well, I’m sorry. +But if I only had a pair of rubber-boots, like +Carrie Sherwood’s, I could go in spite of the +slosh. Never mind,”—here Jessie’s sigh showed +how disappointed she felt,—“never mind, uncle +will have to take his walk alone.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span></p> +<p>Some misses would have fretted over such a +disappointment as this. But Jessie seldom +fretted. She had too much good sense, and too +much good nature to fret. Perhaps this was +one reason why she was loved so well.</p> +<p>When Mrs. Carlton had expressed her view +of the bad walking, Uncle Morris left the room, +so that he did not hear all that Jessie said in +reply. He now returned, bearing in his hands +a good-sized parcel, neatly tied and addressed +in his own handwriting, to “Miss Jessie Carlton.” +Giving it to his niece, he said:</p> +<p>“Open Sesame! Perhaps you may find a talisman +within this parcel, which will incline your +mamma to change her opinion about the fitness +of your walking out with me this morning.”</p> +<p>Jessie untied the string, and on opening her +parcel, looked up with eyes full of pleasure, and +exclaimed:</p> +<p>“A pair of rubber-boots!”</p> +<p>Then dropping the parcel, she ran to her +uncle, and gave him, I don’t know how many +warm kisses. After this, she took up the boots, +and looking at them admiringly, said: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span></p> +<p>“Oh, how nice! Now I can go out in +sloppy weather, can’t I, Ma! What a dear, +good uncle you are! What made you think of +buying me these boots?”</p> +<p>“What made my little puss think of making +me a watch-pocket, eh?” replied Mr. Morris: +“but come, try on your boots, and let us be +going!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Carlton having no fears about the slosh +now that Jessie’s feet were “<i>booted</i>,” instead of +being “<i>sandalled</i>,” gave her consent, and a +few minutes later, Jessie was trotting along at +the side of her uncle, in the road which led +toward the village. A hired man followed +them at a little distance, bearing a large basket +well filled with mince-pies, and other Thanksgiving +luxuries for the table. Mr. Morris was +going to distribute them among certain poor +families, to whom he had sent turkeys the day +before. It was part of his religion to do what +he could to enable the virtuous poor to share +in the pleasures proper to Thanksgiving +day.</p> +<p>The first cottage at which they called, was a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +very small one, occupied by Mrs. Clifton and +her daughter Madge. Having received proofs +in letters from her early friends that her story +was true, Uncle Morris had hired this cottage +for her, and aided by Mr. Carlton, and a few +other kind-hearted men and women in Duncanville, +had furnished it, and put her in possession. +Mrs. Carlton had interested the village +ladies in her case, and they had agreed to keep +her supplied with sewing. The poor woman, +cheered by voices of kindness, and by the +warm sympathies of her generous patrons, had +pledged herself to abstain from the drinks +which had well nigh ruined her. She had been +in her new home for over a week, and was +getting along quite cheerily.</p> +<p>When Jessie and her uncle entered, Madge +shrunk behind her mother. Ever since the day +on which Jessie heard her swear, she had acted +as though conscious that there was something between +herself and Jessie which kept them apart. +I suppose that something was shame on her own +part, and a dread of being made wicked by being +too intimate with her, on Jessie’s part. But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +whatever it was, Madge had felt uneasy in +Jessie’s presence from that time to the present.</p> +<p>“Well, Mrs. Clifton, how are you getting +on?” asked Mr. Morris, after giving her a portion +of the contents of the basket, carried by +the hired man.</p> +<p>“Pretty well, Sir, I thank you: indeed, Sir, I +owe every thing to you, Sir.”</p> +<p>“No, not to me, my good woman, but to God +and this child,” said Mr. Morris, pointing to +Jessie; “but for her, your Madge would have +gone to the alms-house, and you, perhaps, +would have been kept in prison. It was to +please my niece, here, that I took Madge to our +house.”</p> +<p>“A thousand blessings upon the dear child, +and upon yourself, too, Sir,” replied the woman +with tears in her eyes.</p> +<p>Jessie’s heart sent up gushes of sweet feeling +at the sight of Mrs. Clifton’s gratitude. With +some trouble she coaxed poor Madge to kiss +her; after which she and her uncle left the +house. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></p> +<p>“It is more blessed to <i>give</i> than to <i>receive</i>,” +said Uncle Morris, as they walked through the +soft snow to the next cottage.</p> +<p>Jessie dwelt upon that remark, saying to herself, +as she silently trudged by her uncle’s +side—</p> +<p>“That is <i>so</i>, I really do believe. I always +did like to <i>receive</i>, to have those I love <i>give</i> me +something. But I really think I felt happier in +<i>giving</i> Uncle Morris his watch-pocket, and in +taking poor Madge home, than I did in receiving +my skates, or rubber boots, or any thing +else I ever had given to me. It’s queer it +should be so, but so it is. Yes, it <i>is</i> more +blessed to <i>give</i> than to <i>receive</i>. I’ll remember +that as long as I live.”</p> +<p>These musings were broken by their arrival +at Mrs. Moneypenny’s. Here they found poor +Jack, Guy’s <i>protégé</i>. He had arrived from the +hospital the day before. His leg, though still +sore and stiff, was healed. Long confinement +had made his face thin and pale. But he was +very glad to find himself at home again, and +was very busy helping his mother get the turkey, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +sent the day before by Uncle Morris, +ready for the oven.</p> +<p>Here again Jessie found grateful hearts. After +some other remarks, the old lady said—</p> +<p>“That nephew of yours is a wonderful boy, +Sir. There ain’t another such boy in all Duncanville. +Only think, Sir, how he, a gentleman’s +son, has milked and fed my cow, twice a day, +ever since my Jack, there, was hurt! Why, Sir, +we should all have been in the alms-house if it +hadn’t been for him. May the dear lad never +know what trouble means!”</p> +<p>“I’d die for Guy Carlton, any day!” said +Jack, his eyes glistening with grateful tears as +he spoke.</p> +<p>“Rather strong language that, my lad!” +observed Mr. Morris.</p> +<p>“Well, I would, Sir. He’s been so good to +my poor mother, I’d do any thing for him. I +never knew such a boy as Guy Carlton,” rejoined +Jack, with a warmth that defied contradiction, +if it did not carry conviction.</p> +<p>Having again drawn on the contents of the +basket for the supply of Mrs. Moneypenny’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +table, they withdrew followed by a cloud of +good wishes from the hearts and lips of Jack +and his mother.</p> +<p>Thus from cottage to cottage they passed, like +angels of mercy, making glad the hearts of the +poor.</p> +<p>Returning from these visits to Glen Morris, +they prepared for church, where they heard a +most excellent sermon, on the duty of gratitude +to God. Divine service over, they returned +home, sat down at the plentiful table, and +feasted on the good things which usually make +up a thanksgiving dinner, in homes of wealth +and comfort.</p> +<p>When the dessert was brought on, a little +paper box was placed, by the servant, beside +Guy’s plate. His name was written upon it +in the well-known handwriting of his uncle.</p> +<p>“What have you there, Guy?” inquired +Hugh, who sat next to his brother.</p> +<p>“Perhaps it’s a jack in the box!” suggested +Mr. Carlton.</p> +<p>“A watch! A <i>gold</i> hunting-watch! Oh, +what a beauty! Just what I’ve been wanting,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +exclaimed Guy, opening the box; “but what’s +this writing?”</p> +<p>On the inside of the case was this inscription: +“Presented to Guy Carlton in token of my admiration +for his kindness to a poor widow in the +time of her distress.—Mr. Morris.”</p> +<p>Guy blushed deeply as his brother read this +inscription. He was not aware that his uncle +knew about his kindness to the widow. But +the old gentleman had heard all about it from +the grateful woman’s own lips. He now told +the story to the family. Mr. Carlton was delighted, +and spoke words of approbation that +sank deep into Guy’s heart, where they were +treasured up with more care than he would +have kept ingots of gold.</p> +<p>But there was a frown on Hugh’s face. He +had no watch, and Guy now had two. Hence, +he felt envious. But before he had time to express +himself, as he was about to do, Guy took +his old watch from his pocket and placing it in +Hugh’s hand, said:</p> +<p>“There Hugh, I’ll give you my old watch. +It’s a capital time-keeper!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span></p> +<p>“Thank you,” replied Hugh, repressing his +frown, and trying to look pleased.</p> +<p>“He don’t deserve it,” said Uncle Morris.</p> +<p>During this last act of Guy’s, the servant +placed a letter and another box—a <i>very</i> small one—beside +Jessie’s plate. Opening the letter, she +read thus:</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<div class='ra'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>City of Self Conquest</span>, December, 18—.</p> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Miss Carlton</span>:</p> +<p>Permit me to inform you +that I have this day been wedded to Miss Perseverance +by the Rev. Mr. Good-Resolution. +With your permission, I and my bride will take +up our abode with you at Glen Morris. I have +taken a new name in part, and with my bride’s +help, I hope to <i>help</i> you more than I formerly +<i>hindered</i> you, to keep the rules of the Try Company. +The box contains a gift from a mutual +friend, who wishes you to admit me, in my new +estate, to your friendship and confidence.</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p>Very truly yours,</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Right Impulse.</span></p> +</div> + +</div> +<p>“Ah, Uncle Morris, you wrote that, I know +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +you did!” said Jessie, laughing, and looking +very archly at her uncle.</p> +<p>“Well, maybe it is an old man’s folly that +did it. But Jessie, I trust you have now so far +conquered yourself that henceforth your <i>impulses</i> +will no longer be like little wizards tempting +you astray, but that they will be guided by +<i>right resolutions</i>, and carried out with <i>perseverance</i>. +You will thus become a true member of +the Try Company, and live both a good and a +useful life.”</p> +<p>Jessie now opened her box. Taking a bright +little object from its velvet lining, she placed it +on her finger, and holding it up, exclaimed:</p> +<p>“What a dear little thimble! Oh! isn’t it +pretty?”</p> +<p>It was a golden thimble with her name inscribed +upon it. It came from her uncle, as a +token of his approval of her many efforts to +bring her impulses under the control of the law +of duty.</p> +<p>“I hope,” he said to her after receiving her +caresses, “that your hardest struggles with your +old enemy are over. But no doubt the little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +fellow will sometimes try to separate himself +from his good resolutions and from his bride +Perseverance. When he does so, you will be in +danger again. But be brave! Be thoughtful! +Be prayerful! Trust in the Great Teacher! +Try, and try again, and Uncle Morris will never +have need to blush for his niece, Jessie Carlton.”</p> +<p>After dinner our young folks got up a grand +romp in the parlor. Their father and uncle +joined them, and the jocund hours passed so +swiftly, that the dusk stole upon them unawares.</p> +<p>“Dear me! How early it is dark to-night,” +said Jessie, as panting with excitement, she sat +down in her own little chair.</p> +<p>“Hours fly on eagle’s wings, when people are +pleased and busy, as we have been this afternoon,” +observed Uncle Morris in reply; “but +hark! our door-bell rings! Somebody is coming +in. Boys, put the chairs to rights!”</p> +<p>Before the disordered room could be made fit +for a reception, the servant opened the door, +and said: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span></p> +<p>“Mr. Carlton, will you please step to the +door?”</p> +<p>Going to the door, Mr. Carlton found a man +standing on the door-step with a letter in his +hand. A carriage stood in front of the piazza. +Bowing to Mr. Carlton, the man handed him +the letter, and said:</p> +<p>“I have brought Miss Kate Carlton from +New York, to stay with you, Sir. She is in +the carriage. This letter will explain the +reasons of her coming.”</p> +<p>Though greatly surprised at the sudden +appearance of his niece, Mr. Carlton did not +stop, either to read the letter or ask questions, +but went at once to the carriage, and offering +his hand to his niece, said:</p> +<p>“I am happy to see you, my dear, at Glen +Morris. Come into the house. John will see +to your baggage.”</p> +<p>Kate put her fingers into her uncle’s hand, +and with a mincing step, walked into the hall. +Mr. Carlton asked the man who accompanied +her, if he would remain all night.</p> +<p>“No, Sir. I thank you. I must return by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +the last train, which will be here, as soon as I +can get to the station. Good night, Sir!”</p> +<p>“Good night,” replied Mr. Carlton.</p> +<p>When Kate was conducted to the parlor, she +was of course, greeted with looks and expressions +of great surprise. Jessie sprang to her +cousin, embracing her, and exclaiming:</p> +<p>“Why Kate Carlton, is that you?”</p> +<p>Guy took her hand kindly, and said, “I am +glad to see you, Kate.”</p> +<p>Hugh also gave her his hand, but his words +were not gracious. He said:</p> +<p>“What, <i>you</i> come here again, Kate Carlton!”</p> +<p>Uncle Morris kissed her, and spoke very +kindly to her. Somehow, his instincts told him +that her sudden coming to Glen Morris, was +caused by some unexpected evil.</p> +<p>Kate returned these greetings very stiffly. +She had a cold nature, which did not readily +respond to the emotions of others. She was +tired, she said, and would like to be shown to +her room as soon as possible. Jessie accordingly +conducted her to Mrs. Carlton’s room, who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +was as much surprised to see her, as the others +had been.</p> +<p>As soon as she left the parlor, Mr. Carlton, +who had been reading the letter which came +with her, placed his hand upon his forehead, +looked very gravely at Mr. Morris, and said:</p> +<p>“Bad news! Bad news! My brother is a +defaulter in the —— Bank, of which he was +president. He left the city last night, for parts +unknown. His wife is half distracted, and has +gone home to her father. She has sent Kate +here.”</p> +<p>“A sad case!” remarked Mr. Morris, soothingly. +“But are you sure it is true?”</p> +<p>“Too true, I doubt not. This letter is from +my friend, Mr. Estal, a leading director in the +bank. There can be no mistake. It is terrible. +Had my brother lost all his property by honorable +misfortune, or had he died as a good man +dies, it would have been nothing to this. Now +he is ruined and disgraced. Terrible! Terrible!”</p> +<p>Mr. Carlton groaned as he uttered these +words. His anguish was painful to witness. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +His brother’s crime pierced his heart. Happily +he was able to weep, and thus relieve the +violence of his feelings.</p> +<p>“It is terrible indeed,” replied Uncle Morris. +“But while we deplore his fall, let us be thankful +that <i>our</i> honor is unstained by his crime. +Let us also strive not to give way to useless +grief, but let us spend our energies in efforts to +break the fall of his unfortunate wife and child, +whom he has dragged down with himself to +poverty, if not to shame. If <i>you</i> will give Kate +a home, I will see to her education, and will +provide her with clothing.”</p> +<p>“Spoken like your noble self!” rejoined Mr. +Carlton. “Of course, she shall have a home, so +long as I have one.”</p> +<p>A free conversation, between all present, +followed this remark, during which Mr. Carlton +tried to make his sons feel, that the most +absolute poverty if combined with integrity, is +preferable to wealth allied with dishonesty, and +that it is better to die a pauper’s death, than to +be guilty of a dishonorable act.</p> +<p>As for Jessie, her heart was swelling with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +generous impulses, towards poor Kate. “I will +be a sister to her,” said she, in reply to a reference +made by Guy, to Kate’s bad behavior +during her visit, the previous summer, “and +will do my best to make her both happy and +good!”</p> +<p>“Take care, Jessie!” said Guy, laughing. +“Perhaps she will tempt the wizard to forsake +his bride, and to take to his old pranks again. +What will you do then?”</p> +<p>“I will try to keep on such good terms with +Perseverance, his wife, as to prevent that,” replied +Jessie. “See if I don’t?”</p> +<p>“Good! I’ll request Corporal Try to place +your name in his roll of honor,” said Guy; +“but the tea-bell rings, let us go to tea!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Concluding Note.</span></p> +</div> + +<p>Jessie Carlton will appear again in future volumes of the +Glen Morris Stories, in which it will be seen whether her +victory over the little wizard was temporary or lasting; and +whether she fulfilled her purpose, to do her best to make +Kate Carlton both happy and good.</p> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<table summary="" width='500'> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'><span style='font-size:x-large'>THE ALDEN SERIES.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>BOOKS FOR CHILDREN.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>I.</td></tr> +<tr><td>CHOICE STORIES FOR THE YOUNG</td><td>37-1/2</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>By Joseph Alden, D.D.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>II.</td></tr> +<tr><td>RUPERT CABELL, AND OTHER TALES</td><td>37-1/2</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>By Joseph Alden, D.D.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>III.</td></tr> +<tr><td>THE OLD REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIER</td><td>37-1/2</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>By Joseph Alden, D.D.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>IV.</td></tr> +<tr><td>DAYS OF BOYHOOD</td><td>37-1/2</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'><i>FOURTEEN INTERESTING STORIES.</i></td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>V.</td></tr> +<tr><td>LITTLE CLARA; OR, SELF-CONTROL, &c.</td><td>37-1/2</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>By Mrs. Anna Bache.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>VI.</td></tr> +<tr><td>LITTLE DORA; OR, THE FOUR SEASONS</td><td>37-1/2</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>By a Lady of Charleston.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>VII.</td></tr> +<tr><td>PEBBLES FROM THE SEA-SHORE, OR LIZZIE'S FIRST GLEANINGS</td><td>37-1/2</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>By a Father.</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>VIII.</td></tr> +<tr><td>THE GOOD BOY'S AND GIRL'S PICTURE GALLERY, WITH ENTERTAINING STORIES</td><td>37-1/2</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>By Morton.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p style='text-align: center'>May be had separately, or in neat boxes.</p> + +<p style='width:500px; margin-left:auto; margin-right: auto;'>The above series of EIGHT BOOKS contain numerous Illustrations, +are printed on very fine paper, uniformly bound in neat +scarlet cloth, gilt side and back, and are recommended as a choice +little</p> + +<p style='text-align: center'>LIBRARY OF BOOKS.</p> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>Interesting Juvenile Books,</p> +<p>PUBLISHED BY</p> +<p><b>HOWE & FERRY</b>,</p> +<p>No. 76 Bowery, New York.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='tb' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>THE LU LU LIBRARY:</p> +</div> + +<p>Twelve beautiful books for small children, comprising—</p> +<div class='la'> +<p>PICTURE ALPHABET,</p> +<p>PICTURE MULTIPLIER,</p> +<p>NEW STORIES FOR GIRLS,</p> +<p>NEW STORIES FOR BOYS,</p> +<p>STORIES FOR CHILDREN,</p> +<p>LITTLE STORY-BOOK,</p> +<p>SIMPLE STORIES,</p> +<p>THE JOURNEY AND VISIT,</p> +<p>BOAT BUILDERS, &c.,</p> +<p>GRANDFATHER’S STORIES,</p> +<p>CHILD’S GEM,</p> +<p>YOUNG DREAMER,</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>Neatly done up in Illuminated Paper Covers, each 10 cents, or per set $0.75</p> +<p>Same Twelve Books as above, half bound, cloth backs, each 12 cents, or per set 1.00</p> +<p>Same Twelve Books as above, scarlet cloth, gilt backs, each 18 cents, or per set 1.75</p> +</div> + +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>THE COLMAN SERIES.</p> +<p>New Books, neatly bound in scarlet cloth and gilt backs, with Illustrations—viz.:</p> +<div class='la'> +<p><b>NEW AND TRUE STORIES</b> Price 25 Cents.</p> +<p><b>HOLIDAY STORIES</b> 25 "</p> +<p><b>STORIES OF AFFECTION</b> 25 "</p> +<p><b>PEARL STORY BOOK</b> 25 "</p> +<p><b>THE PET BUTTERFLIES</b> 25 "</p> +<p><b>THE TALISMAN</b> 25 "</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>The whole neatly put up in boxes $1.50</p> +</div> + +<p>The above series of SIX BOOKS are all short, moral, and interesting +Stories, with many Engravings.</p> +<hr /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>THE GLEN MORRIS STORIES,</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>A SERIES OF BOOKS DESIGNED TO SOW THE SEED OF PURE, NOBLE,</p> +<p>MANLY CHARACTER IN THE MINDS OF OUR GREAT NATION’S</p> +<p>CHILDHOOD; NOT IN PROSY, UNREADABLE PRECEPTS,</p> +<p>BUT IN A SERIES OF CHARACTERS WHICH MOVE BEFORE</p> +<p>THE IMAGINATION AS LIVING BEINGS</p> +<p>DO BEFORE THE SENSES.</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p><b>BY FRANCIS FORRESTER, ESQ.</b></p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>Author of “<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>My Uncle Toby’s Library</span>,” &c.</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p><b>Beautifully Illustrated.</b></p> +</div> + +<p>Each volume will contain about 256 pages, beautifully bound in fine +muslin, with gilt backs, price 60 cts.; and will be independent of itself, +but there will still be an identity of character throughout the Series.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p><i>The Volumes now ready are—</i></p> +<div class='la'> +<p><b>GUY CARLTON</b>—A Boy who belonged to the “Try Company.”</p> +<p><b>DICK DUNCAN</b>—A Boy who loved mischief.</p> +<p><b>JESSIE CARLTON</b>—A Girl who fought with a troublesome little wizard, and conquered him.</p> +<p><b>WALTER SHERWOOD</b>—An easy, good-natured Boy. [<i>In preparation.</i>]</p> +<p><b>KATE CARLTON</b>—The story of a vain Girl <i>Ditto.</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class='tb' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p><i>NOTICES OF THE PRESS.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>“Among the excellent books prepared for juvenile readers, this series is +one of the best.”—<i>Worcester Spy.</i></p> +<p>“The form of instruction used in this series is significant of success.”—<i>Ladies’ +Repository.</i></p> +<p>“They are written in Francis Forrester’s best style, and will be read with +interest by many thousands of young readers. Older persons will sometimes +steal a chance to read them. They are spirited, and full of good instruction.”—<i>Zion’s +Herald.</i></p> +<p>“The Glen Morris Stories seem better fitted to imbue into the characters +and dispositions of the younger sons and daughters in our land, sound moral +and religious principles, than almost any other at present extant.”—<i>N. Y. +Churchman.</i></p> +<p>“Forrester blends amusement with instruction, while a high moral tone +pervades his works.”—<i>Barre (Mass.) Gazette.</i></p> +<!-- generated by ppgen.rb version: 2.27 --> +<!-- timestamp: Wed Oct 15 12:20:38 -0400 2008 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Jessie Carlton, by Francis Forrester + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JESSIE CARLTON *** + +***** This file should be named 26953-h.htm or 26953-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/9/5/26953/ + +Produced by Roger Frank, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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