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diff --git a/old/52214-0.txt b/old/52214-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e355f5f..0000000 --- a/old/52214-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7948 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bessie on Her Travels, by Joanna H. Mathews - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Bessie on Her Travels - -Author: Joanna H. Mathews - -Release Date: June 1, 2016 [EBook #52214] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BESSIE ON HER TRAVELS *** - - - - -Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - -BESSIE ON HER TRAVELS. - - - - -_BOOKS BY JOANNA H. MATHEWS._ - -I. THE BESSIE BOOKS. - - 6 vols. In a box. $7.50. - - SEASIDE $1.25 - CITY 1.25 - FRIENDS 1.25 - MOUNTAINS 1.25 - SCHOOL 1.25 - TRAVELS 1.25 - -II. THE FLOWERETS. A SERIES OF STORIES ON THE COMMANDMENTS. - - 6 vols. In a box. $3.60. - - VIOLET’S IDOL. - DAISY’S WORK. - ROSE’S TEMPTATION. - LILY’S LESSON. - HYACINTHE AND HER BROTHERS. - PINKIE AND THE RABBITS. - -III. LITTLE SUNBEAMS. - - 6 vols. In a box. $6.00. - - BELLE POWERS’ LOCKET. - DORA’S MOTTO. 16mo. - LILY NORRIS’ ENEMY. - JESSIE’S PARROT. - MAMIE’S WATCHWORD. - NELLIE’S HOUSEKEEPING. - -IV. KITTY AND LULU BOOKS. - - 6 vols. In a box. $6.00. - - TOUTOU AND PUSSY. - KITTY’S ROBINS. - THE WHITE RABBIT. - RUDIE’S GOAT. - KITTY’S VISIT. - KITTY’S SCRAP-BOOK. - -V. MISS ASHTON’S GIRLS. - - 1. FANNY’S BIRTHDAY $1.25 - 2. THE NEW SCHOLARS 1.25 - 3. ROSALIE’S PET 1.25 - 4. ELEANOR’S VISIT 1.25 - 5. MABEL WALTON 1.25 - -VI. HAPS AND MISHAPS. - - 6 vols. In a box. $7.50. - - 1. LITTLE FRIENDS $1.25 - 2. THE BROKEN MALLET 1.25 - 3. BLACKBERRY JAM 1.25 - 4. MILLY’S WHIMS 1.25 - 5. LILIES AND THISTLEDOWN 1.25 - 6. UNCLE JOE’S THANKSGIVING 1.25 - -ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, _New York_. - - - - -[Illustration: FRONTISPIECE. Bessie’s Travels.] - - - - - BESSIE - ON - HER TRAVELS. - - BY - JOANNA H. MATHEWS. - - “Glad hearts, without reproach or blot, - Which do thy work, and know it not.” - - NEW YORK. - ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, - 530, BROADWAY. - - Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by - - ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, - - In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United - States for the Southern District of New York. - - CAMBRIDGE: - PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON - - DEDICATED - TO - LITTLE FLORENCE GUERNSEY, - - AS - - A SMALL TOKEN OF APPRECIATION OF HER FATHER’S LONG AND - FAITHFUL FRIENDSHIP; AND WITH THE HOPE THAT - THIS LAST MAY NOT PROVE TO HER THE - LEAST OF THE “BESSIE BOOKS.” - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - I. PACKING UP 9 - - II. AT SEA 33 - - III. LUCY 54 - - IV. AN OLD ENEMY, BUT NEW FRIEND 80 - - V. BELLE’S HOME 101 - - VI. LETTERS 127 - - VII. A “REAL, REAL ADVENTURE” 157 - - VIII. OLD JOE 184 - - IX. KATE 211 - - X. MAGGIE’S POEM 232 - - XI. GOOD SEED 256 - - XII. “HAPPY DELIGHTS” 275 - - XIII. LITTLE ACTS OF KINDNESS 301 - - XIV. WATER-LILIES 330 - - XV. “OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN” 351 - - - - -BESSIE ON HER TRAVELS. - - - - -I. - -_PACKING UP._ - - -What a twitter and flutter and chirping there was in the pretty nest -which Maggie and Bessie Bradford called their own room; for there were -four little girls, who were to start together the next day on their -travels, and there was so much to be talked over. All the new places -they were to visit, all the wonderful things they were to see and do; -and, more than all, that sea voyage of three or four days. For none of -them but Belle had ever been to sea, and it would be quite a new thing -to all the rest. - -Then there was the packing, about which both Maggie and Bessie, -especially the former, had been greatly concerned for the last week; -for it seemed impossible to them that nurse and Jane could make all the -necessary preparations for this important journey on the day before -that on which they were to start. - -That morning Maggie’s excitement and impatience had overflowed. Waking -at a very early hour, and finding Bessie still sleeping, she lay a few -moments thinking of all that was to be done that day, and wondering -that the household should still be so quiet, with the prospect of such -important business before them. - -“I just expect the end of the matter will be that every one in the -house, even poor mamma, who is not so very well yet, will have to turn -to and help to make up for their pro-cras-to-na-tion!” said she to -herself, indignantly; “and I’ve just a great mind to begin packing up -myself, to set them a good example, and make them ashamed of a little -girl like me taking time by the forelock so much better than they do.” - -No sooner said than done; and Maggie scrambled out of bed and into -her dressing-gown and slippers quite forgetting to pause and think -whether or no mamma would approve of her running about the house in -such a guise, and if she would not be giving more trouble than help by -meddling with what she did not understand. - -Upstairs she trotted to the topmost story, where was a room which Fred -called the “put-all-room,” and which held, not only trunks and boxes -of all shapes and sizes, but a couple of great, old-fashioned presses, -and many another article not in common daily use, and stored there to -be out of the way. The children thought it rather a treat to go in -now and then with mamma or nurse, to rummage there and see what they -could spy out: but none of them had ever gone there alone or without -permission; and if Maggie had taken time to reflect, I think she would -have known that her mamma would not wish her to do so, though she had -never positively forbidden it. - -But just now the busy little head was too full of plans for making -herself useful, to take heed of any thing else; and finding what she -had hoped for, that the door was unlocked, she opened it, and went in. -The trunks were not piled together at one end as they usually were, but -stood singly, here and there about the room, just as Patrick had left -them the day before, when he had examined them to see if they were in -good order; and this Maggie observed with great satisfaction. - -“It just seems as if it was fixed to be convenient for me,” she said -to herself; “and now I can try which is the heaviest one I can pull. I -know I could not take those largest downstairs, but I think I could one -of the middlings.” - -But, after various trials, she found to her great disappointment, that -she could by no means move even one of the “middlings;” and was at -last forced to content herself with a small black leather trunk, in -which she thought she would put some of her own and Bessie’s clothes. - -“For a pack in time saves nine,” said Maggie to herself; “and even if -it does not hold much, this little trunk is a better beginning than -nothing.” - -Having fixed upon this prize, she contrived with some trouble to drag -it from the room, and push and pull it to the head of the stairs. But -here a new difficulty arose. She could by no means lift the trunk and -carry it down: small as it was for the amount of packing she wished to -do, it was quite too heavy for her little strength; and though for one -moment she thought of pushing it over the edge of the top stair, and -allowing it to slide down by its own weight, she soon reflected this -would not do. - -“For it will just go and smash itself all to pieces, I suppose, and -then make a horrid noise to wake the people all up,” she said again, -feeling rather vexed with the innocent trunk. “Oh! I know what I’ll -do: I’ll go in front of it and pull it down very gently, one step at a -time.” - -But in spite of all the pains she took, the trunk seemed to Maggie to -make the most outrageous noise, sliding over each stair with a grating -sound, and coming down from the edge of one to another with a thump and -a bang, which all her efforts could not silence. She was soon heartily -sorry that she had ever touched it; but she must go on now, for she -could not possibly pull it up again, and if she left her hold of it, it -would go tumbling headlong to the bottom. - -However, she took heart of grace again by the time she had reached the -foot of the top flight, for no one seemed to have been disturbed; the -servants having all gone down stairs, and the boys, who slept in the -third story, being sound sleepers. So she concluded to go on and not -have all her pains thrown away; but she had gone only two or three -steps on the second flight, her troublesome prize bumping after her, -when she heard her father’s voice from below. - -“What are you busy with there, Patrick?” he said. “You are disturbing -Mrs. Bradford, and will wake the children. Leave it till later in the -day.” - -“O papa!” said Maggie, feeling rather guilty, and very much mortified, -“it’s not Patrick, but me;” and as she spoke, she appeared round the -turn of the stairs, while her attention being for the moment diverted, -the trunk slid after her with a bang which seemed to jar the house. - -“You, my daughter!” said Mr. Bradford, coming up to where Maggie stood; -“and what _are_ you doing here at this time in the morning?” and he -looked down in great surprise at the small figure whose cheeks matched -her scarlet dressing-gown, and whose curls were tossed and tumbled in -the wildest confusion. - -“It’s this mean old trunk, papa,” said Maggie, pettishly; “the more -I try to make it go softly, the more it won’t, but just squeaks and -bumps all it can, the horrid thing!” and now she gave up the trunk very -willingly into her father’s strong grasp. - -“What were you doing with it?” asked Mr. Bradford. - -“Taking it downstairs, so I could pack it with my things and Bessie’s, -papa. I wanted to take mamma by surprise to see how useful I could be.” - -“You have taken mamma rather too much by surprise,” said her father, -unable to help smiling; “for you have wakened and startled her. It -is well to try to be useful, but one should try to be thoughtful -and considerate at the same time, or our pains will be quite thrown -away, as yours are now. You must go back to your bed, my daughter, -and let this trunk alone;” and lifting the trunk he carried it to the -third-story hall, Maggie looking on with a very crestfallen feeling. - -“It may stay there till we see if it is needed,” said Mr. Bradford, -soothingly, as he saw her disturbed face; “and by and by, at the -proper time, you may ask mamma if you can help her;” and taking the -little hand which was trembling with cold and over-exertion, he led her -back to her own room. Papa had been very kind, and could scarcely be -said to have found fault with her; but Maggie, who began to feel that -she had been somewhat to blame, would rather have been scolded than -hear him laugh as he did when he told mamma how and where he had found -her. She did not hear what he said, but she knew very well what he was -talking about, and drew the bed-clothes over her head that she might -shut out the sound of his laughter. - -“It’s too bad,” she thought: “most always when I try to be very -superior, I make a mistake and people laugh at me about it. I feel as -if I’d like to be mad at some one, but I can’t be mad at papa, and I -don’t want to be mad at myself, ’cause I didn’t mean to do wrong; and -it’s no use to be mad at the trunk, but I b’lieve I do feel a little -provoked at it, it has made my hands hurt, and my arms do ache so. -I’m real tired too.” And coming to the surface for air, Maggie turned -over on her side, and presently dropped off into a sound morning nap; -so that when nurse came to tell her she might get up, she found her -still sleeping instead of wide awake as usual, and was bidden by Mrs. -Bradford to let her sleep as long as she would after her exertion. - -Maggie was rather subdued and quiet all the first part of the morning, -and more than ever grateful to papa, when she found that he had not -told the boys, and so given them the opportunity to tease and laugh at -her. - -“I suppose you couldn’t let me help you after my _unconsiderate_ -unusefulness this morning: could you, mamma?” she said, when she saw -her mother gathering together the articles Jane was to stow in the -trunks. - -“Well, yes: I think I can find something for you and Bessie to do,” -said mamma: “you may take all these tapes, needles, spools, and so -forth, into your own room, and see how neatly you can put them into -this box; and all these ribbons may go into that one.” - -“Oh! thank you, mamma: I will let Bessie do the ribbons, ’cause they -are the prettiest;” and away ran generous Maggie with her sister to -begin the pleasant task. - -That done, mamma gave them leave to pack the clothes belonging to Miss -Bessie Margaret Marian, and Miss Margaret Colonel Horace Rush Bradford, -in another box; saying that since she did not feel as if she could do -without her own little daughters, she would not ask them to leave the -whole of their large family behind, and thought the dolls might prove a -great diversion when they were tired, or perhaps shut up in some hotel -on a rainy day. - -They were busy deciding what dresses should be taken and what left, -when Mrs. Norris came round to see Mrs. Bradford for a few moments, -bringing Lily with her; and while the ladies talked in one room, the -little girls chattered away in the other, Belle coming in about the -same time. - -“Oh!” said Lily, “is your mamma going to let you take your large dolls? -my mamma will only let me take a tiny, weeny one that can go in a -travelling-bag.” - -“I wouldn’t take any then,” said Belle. “I’m going to take my largest, -biggest one of all.” - -“Not Belle Maggie Bessie?” questioned Maggie. - -“Yes: Belle Maggie Bessie!” repeated Belle, in a tone of determined -obstinacy and snappishness, which showed that the subject was a sore -one with her. - -“But your papa said last night that you could not take her, ’cause such -a large doll would be too much trouble,” said Bessie. - -“Well, anyhow, I’m going to: he said I could this morning,” answered -Belle. - -“Then you cried and cried and bothered him, till he said yes: I know -you,” said Maggie, reproachfully. - -“I don’t care,” said Belle; but she did care, and now was ashamed -that her little playmates should guess how she had worried her too -indulgent papa. - -“You might repent yet and tell him you won’t take her,” said Bessie. - -“Yes, do, and make a Rip Van Winkle of her,” said Maggie. - -“I shan’t make her that ugly thing, and I shall take her,” said Belle, -indignantly. - -“You needn’t be so cross,” said Maggie: “Bessie and I made all our -other dolls Rip Van Winkles and William Tells, and it was good fun. -Don’t you want to see them, Lily?” - -Lily assented; and, opening a deep drawer in the bureau, Maggie showed -her all the various dolls belonging to herself and Bessie, lying with -bandages on their eyes. - -“I don’t see what you call them William Tells and that other name for,” -said Lily. “William Tell was the man Miss Ashton told us about, who -shot an apple off his son’s head.” - -“Yes,” answered Maggie; “and we told Harry and Fred about it, but they -knew before, and told us that the Swiss people believe that he and his -companions went fast asleep in a cave for a great many hundred years, -and some day they would wake up and rule over them.” - -“And who was the Winkle man?” asked Belle. - -“He was another old fellow who went up into the mountains and went to -sleep for ever so many years; and when he woke up nobody knew him, -and he did not know anybody. Harry told us about him. I don’t see how -people can be so foolish as to sleep for so long; but it came into my -head to make our dolls Rip Van Winkles and William Tells till we came -back, and then we wouldn’t feel as if they were so lonely when they -were asleep all the time.” - -“It’s only pretend, you know, and one can make b’lieve about dolls -even better than about people,” said Bessie. “And it’s a great relief -to suffering to go to sleep and forget it,” she added, as gravely -as though there were no “pretend” about it, and the dolls were real -children, feeling deeply the separation from their little mammas. - -“That’s a very nice thing to do. You do make such nice plays, Maggie,” -said Lily, admiringly. “I shall do it with my dolls: you’d better too, -Belle.” - -“Well, I don’t know; but I’m going to think about it,” said Belle, in -whose little heart Maggie’s reproach had awakened a feeling of remorse -for the selfishness and obstinacy she had shown about her doll. “I -b’lieve Belle Maggie Bessie _is_ most too large. I can’t carry her much -myself, and papa did say she’d be in everybody’s way. I guess I’ll make -a William Tell of her, if Maggie and Bessie will let me put her with -theirs.” - -“Yes, we will; and you can take a doll of moderation,” said Maggie, -meaning that Belle could take a doll of moderate size. - -“Do you think you’ll be seasick on the steamer?” asked Lily. - -“Pooh! no, I shan’t. I won’t be,” said Maggie. - -“Perhaps you can’t help it,” said Belle. “I’m sure I didn’t mean to be -seasick when I came here in the steamer, but I couldn’t help it; and oh -dear!--it’s--it is horrid.” - -“Is being seasick any thing like being homesick?” asked Bessie. - -“Not exactly; but the two things very often go together, darling,” said -Aunt Bessie, laughing, and speaking from the next room. - -“Then I’m more determined than ever not to be it,” said Maggie, meaning -seasick by “it.” “But then I couldn’t be homesick either, when I have -so many of my own home people with me.” - -But, in spite of her determination, Maggie had privately a great dread -of this same seasickness. She could not bear to be sick; not that she -was impatient or cross when this was the case with her, but that she -thought sickness, like sleep, was “a great waste of being alive.” She -wanted to be able to run about and amuse herself all the time; and it -was “such fun” to go to sea, that she was very much afraid lest any -thing should interfere with her enjoyment of it. - -“They give people sour things when they are seasick,” said Belle, who, -having once suffered in this way, thought herself entitled to give all -necessary information on the subject. “That’s the only nice thing about -it. They gave me lots of sour oranges and lemons.” - -“But Bessie and I don’t like sour things, so that won’t make it any -better for us,” said Maggie, soberly. Nevertheless, she treasured -Belle’s remark; and not seeing her way clearly to a private stock -of oranges and lemons, she watched her opportunity when her little -playmates were gone, and taking Patrick into her confidence, begged -him to give her “two pickles and a whole lot of vinegar,” not to eat -herself, because mamma would not allow that, but to be prepared, when -all the rest of the family were seasick and she had to take care of -them. - -The good-natured Irishman, expressing great admiration at the -“forethought of her,” furnished her with what she wanted; and Maggie -went off, rejoicing in her spoils. - -The pickles were stowed away in the soup-tureen belonging to her doll’s -dinner-set; and she contrived, when nurse and Jane were not looking, to -slip them into a corner of one of the trunks. The vinegar she poured -into a vial she had also obtained from Patrick; and as the cork did not -fit very tightly, and she feared the liquid might run out if she put it -into the trunk, she hid it in her bosom, heroically enduring the smell -of the vinegar, which was exceedingly disagreeable to her, “for the -sake of my family,” as she told Bessie. - -For Bessie’s quick little nose soon smelt out the vinegar, which she -also disliked very much; and after several sniffs and exclamations -of disgust from her, and much wondering as to where that “horrid, -vinegarish smell did come from,” Maggie felt forced to tell her the -secret which she had meant to keep until they were safely on board the -steamer. - -But Bessie was by no means so struck with admiration as Patrick had -been, and for once did not think Maggie’s plan a good one; at least not -unless she could be persuaded to tell her mamma of it. - -“For you know, dear Maggie,” she said with a doubtful shake of her -head, “mamma does not like us to keep secrets from her; and don’t you -think she will know what is best to take?” - -“Well, I don’t know,” said Maggie, unwilling to give up her cherished -plan; “maybe she won’t think about sour things, and I’m sure she’d be -very thankful when she’s seasick, and finds an unexpected pickle just -on hand.” - -“I think she’ll like it just as well if she knows about it before,” -said Bessie. “And I don’t believe it is quite right; and, besides, it -is such a very bad-smelling secret to have. Tell her, and see what she -will say.” - -But even as they were talking, they found that the “bad-smelling -secret” had betrayed itself; for nurse, going to finish the packing of -the trunk where the pickles were concealed, also perceived the scent of -vinegar. - -“What have you been putting in here that smells so of vinegar?” she -said to Jane. - -“Nothing,” was the answer. “I’ve had no vinegar.” - -“But it’s here, surely,” said nurse, sniffing around in her turn: “it’s -about this trunk, spilled on something I suppose: that’s some of your -carelessness, Jane.” And Mammy, who was rather apt to snub her younger -helpmate, lifted several articles in turn to her nose. - -“Oh dear! I’ll have to tell: she’s scolding poor Janey for it,” -whispered Maggie, in great dismay. - -“What’s this?” exclaimed nurse, when, having pulled out half a dozen -things, she came upon the tiny tureen. “Pickles! and the vinegar -dribbled out of them on the master’s clean shirts. Well! that naughty -Frankie! he’s gone beyond himself in such a trick as that. He’s been -busy with your doll’s china, Maggie, my honey; but where in the world -did he lay his mischievous hands on pickles? I’ll just speak my mind to -Patrick for leaving them in the child’s reach. Pickles indeed! but he’s -a pickle!” - -This was too much for Maggie. She could not hear her little brother and -Patrick blamed, and she spoke out at once. - -“It was not Frankie who put them there,” she said: “it was I, and I -want them to stay there.” - -“Indeed, they’ll not then,” said nurse. “Ye know your mother never lets -ye touch them; and what a way would that be to take them anyhow? What -ails ye the day, Maggie? I think the spirit of mischief has hold of ye.” - -Maggie was displeased in her turn, and, as usual, was dignified and -made use of all the long words she could think of, which were suitable -to the case. - -“If you interfere with my pickle arrangements, I shall not be -responsible for the seasickness,” she said solemnly. - -“Responsible for the seasickness! I should think not,” said nurse, -forgetting her vexation in her amusement, and bursting into a hearty -laugh, in which she was joined by Jane; while Maggie stood swelling and -indignant; “responsible for the seasickness! and what put that into -your head, my lamb, and what do you think pickles stuffed into trunks -have to do with it?” - -But Maggie was too much hurt and disappointed to answer, and could only -reply with a nod to Bessie’s plea that she would let her explain. - -This was soon done; and nurse, sorry to see Maggie so grieved, said,-- - -“The pickles would have done ye little good packed away in the trunk -which ye will not see till we come to land again, honey; and don’t ye -fret your little soul about it, for your mamma has provided all things -needful; and I promise you if all the rest are taken down but yourself, -ye shall play nurse to your heart’s content, and wait on everybody. Ye -did mean to be considerate and thoughtful, I’m sure; but it’s always -best for such young heads to take counsel of those that are wiser and -older in such things.” - -Having allowed so much to be confessed, Maggie thought she might as -well make a clean breast of the whole affair; and produced the bottle -of vinegar, with many entreaties to be allowed to keep it. Nurse shook -her head; but Mrs. Bradford came into the room just then, and she -turned the matter over to her. - -Mamma laughed too when she heard the story, and told Maggie to give -up her pickles and vinegar, and she would provide her with something -better; so taking both the little girls into her own room, she -delighted them by presenting each with a beautiful morocco satchel, -just of a right size for small travellers, and with lock and key all -complete, to say nothing of a light chain by which they could be hung -over the shoulder. - -Maggie was farther consoled by a bottle of smelling salts, one -of hartshorn, and three lemons; and this she appeared to think a -sufficient safeguard against seasickness for all the passengers and -crew of the steamer. For the rest of the day her restless energies -found satisfaction in locking and unlocking, arranging and rearranging -this satchel and its contents, and the busy head and fingers were kept -from farther mischief or hindering “help.” - - - - -II. - -_AT SEA._ - - -“Are we at sea now, papa?” said Maggie, holding by her father’s hand as -she jumped up and down on the deck of the steamer; “are we really at -sea?” - -“Hardly at sea yet, little daughter: we are still going down the bay. -When we are fairly at sea we shall lose sight of our own great city, -where we have left grandmamma and the boys, and all the other dear -ones.” - -“Yes,” said Bessie, who was by no means in such overflowing spirits -as Maggie; “it’s rather sorrowful to leave so many of our own people -behind us. I wish everybody could have come with us.” - -“Then we’d have no one to write to,” said Maggie, who found consolation -in all partings in the thought of letter-writing, in which she -delighted. - -“But, papa, will you tell us when we are really and truly at sea?” - -“You’ll be apt to know that without telling, little maiden,” said a -gentleman who was passing: “we have had high winds the last three days, -and shall find it rough enough outside, I take it;” and he passed on. - -“Who’s that, papa?” asked Bessie. - -“That is the captain,” said Mr. Bradford. - -“What a nice face he has,” said the little girl. - -“What did he mean by ‘outside’?” asked Maggie. - -“He meant outside of the bay or harbor. We are going now through -what is called the Narrows, then we shall pass Sandy Hook, where the -light-house is, and be fairly out at sea.” - -“And what did he mean by ‘rough’?” asked Maggie. - -“Well, he meant the waves might be rather high, and toss and roll the -ship about more than you would find quite comfortable.” - -“Oh! I shan’t mind it,” said Maggie. “It will be fun.” - -“He meant you’d be seasick,” said Belle, with a wise shake of her head. - -“I don’t believe he ever meant that,” answered Maggie, in a tone which -said she considered the idea almost an insult. “He must see how well -and strong I look.” - -“I hope you may be able to keep to your determination, my little girl,” -said her father, smiling. - -“Why, is this what people make such a fuss about?” said Maggie, when -some time after the threatened rolling and pitching began: “I think it -is lovely. But, then, papa,” she added presently, “perhaps it would be -nicer if you would ask that good-natured-looking captain not to let the -ship do it quite so much. It seems to make my head so very _bobbly_.” - -“The captain cannot help it, dear,” said her father, looking half in -pity, half in amusement, at the face which Maggie was making such -desperate efforts to keep smiling and unconcerned. “The waves roll the -vessel about in this way, and you know the captain does not rule them. -We must bear it as we can; but I hope by and by you will become used to -it, and not mind it so much.” - -“Oh! I don’t _mind_ it, papa,” said Maggie, still determined that these -rolling waves should not conquer her; “at least not so very much, and -I’m not a bit seasick; only--only--I don’t think the sea is quite so -very comfortable to be on as the land: do you?” - -Hapless little Maggie! Half an hour more, and the “bobbly” head lay -in mamma’s lap, hands and feet hung helplessly, chattering tongue was -still, save for an occasional piteous, “O mamma!” and the merry dancing -eyes, usually so wide-open and quick to notice all around them, were -closed as though they never cared to lift their lids again. Even the -new satchel had lost its charm, and hung unheeded at her side. Its -cherished contents, which she had intended to be of so much use to -others, proved of none to herself. Lemons, smelling salts, hartshorn, -and many other remedies, were tried without success; and it would have -been hard to find a more wretched little girl than was poor Maggie, -for the next twenty-four hours. Belle and Lily were too ill themselves -to feel at all inclined to triumph over the failure of Maggie’s -“determination;” though I do not think they would have been unkind -enough to do so, had they been ever so well. - -As for Bessie, she made what the captain called “a capital little -sailor,” and to her fell the part of nurse, which Maggie had intended -to fill. And never was a more gentle, tender, thoughtful young -nurse than our little “princess,” handy and knowing enough for -seven-and-twenty instead of seven years old. Now she was rubbing -Maggie’s cold hands, now bathing Belle’s dizzy, aching head with such -soothing fingers; now coaxing Lily to take one of those oranges which -were to work such wonders; now amusing baby, for Mammy was in a bad -way too, and mamma’s attention was pretty well taken up with her poor -Maggie; now showing a picture-book to some fretful child whose mother -was too ill to attend to it. Always ready not only to do, but to see -where and how she could do, some small service for a sufferer, she went -about from one to another like some dainty little fairy, with a mission -of healing and kindness. So long as she could keep her feet, which was -not always possible, the rolling of the ship only troubled her by the -distress it brought to others, especially Maggie; but all her pleasure -in her beloved sea was lost in her sympathy for her sister. It was so -strange and unusual to see Maggie lying helpless and subdued, with no -thought or care for any thing about her, that it made Bessie herself -very miserable; and she could scarcely believe her father’s assurances -that Maggie was not going to die, and would probably soon feel better. - -But she thought despair and misery could go no farther upon the -following morning, when, having dressed Margaret Bessie Marion and -Margaret Colonel Horace Rush in the new travelling suits Aunt Annie had -made for them, and combed their “real live hair,” she brought them and -placed one on each side of Maggie, as she lay among the pile of pillows -and shawls papa had arranged for her upon the deck. - -“Maggie dear,” she said coaxingly, “would it not comfort you a little -to hold Bessie Margaret Marion? She looks so sweet.” - -“No,” moaned Maggie, without opening her eyes: “I never want her again, -Bessie, never. You can have her.” - -“Oh, no!” said Bessie, cheerily: “you’ll want her when you feel better, -and I hope that will be pretty soon.” - -“No,” said Maggie again: “I’ll never be better. And, Bessie, I think -I’d better tell you my will. I’m too sick to write it myself, but you -can remember.” - -“But you’re not going to die,” answered Bessie, dropping the doll upon -her lap and looking at Maggie in fresh dismay. - -“Yes, I feel it,” said Maggie, with a tragic whisper and shake of her -head. - -“Oh, no, dear! Papa said not, and the doctor said so too. They said -people hardly ever died of seasickness.” - -“Then I’m one of the ‘hardly evers,’ Bessie,” persisted Maggie, -seeming, poor child, to find some relief in the idea; “and I’d -better make my will, and tell you who I want my playthings and other -_possessings_ to go to.” - -Bessie did not know whether to be most alarmed at Maggie’s words, or -consoled by her belief that her father and the doctor must know best; -and she listened in silence while Maggie went on, speaking slowly and -with many pauses. - -“You can have all my dolls, Bessie, ’cept Josephine Matilda, and she’ll -be good for Baby, ’cause she’s Indian rubber and can’t be broken; and -mamma my prize writing-desk, and papa my new satchel; and my doll’s tea -set, the white and gilt one for you, and the blue one for Lily; same -with the dinner-sets--only, red for Belle--and my tin kitchen too--oh! -I can’t tell any more--oh! mamma--mamma!” and here poor Maggie’s will -came abruptly to an end. - -But things brightened towards the latter part of that day, for they -came into smoother waters; and Maggie, as well as all the other seasick -passengers, began to feel easier. - -“Hallo!” said the captain, pausing as he came by to look at the little, -pale, tired face upon the pillows: “is this the jolly little woman who -came on board yesterday afternoon? Why, this will not do. I shall have -to take her in hand myself, Mrs. Bradford: will you let me turn doctor?” - -“Most certainly, Captain, if you can do any thing to relieve her. Every -thing seems to fail except time and patience, and of the last my poor -child has shown a fair sample,” answered the anxious mother. - -With a nod to Maggie, who, at the sound of his hearty, cheery voice -had half opened her eyes to look at him, and another to Bessie, who sat -upon the edge of her sister’s couch, he walked away; coming back after -a little while, followed by the steward carrying a small tray. On the -tray were two plates, the one holding a crisp slice of brown toast; the -other, something which Bessie thought very uninviting, a dry, rather -black-looking herring. - -“I wonder if he is going to ask Maggie to eat that thing,” she said to -herself. “Idea of it! I know she never can do it. I’m afraid he’s not -so very nice as he looks, and that he has very poor sense.” - -But the captain asked Maggie nothing about the herring; but, sitting -down beside her, he took the tray from the steward, and cutting a small -bit from the fish, he held it to Maggie’s lips. Maggie turned away her -head in disgust, in which Bessie sympathized. - -“Come, come,” said the captain, “every one has to do as I say on this -ship, especially when I turn doctor.” - -He did not smile, though he looked as good-natured and pleasant -as ever; and, doubtful if he were in joke or in earnest, Maggie -reluctantly took the bit of fish from the fork, and then a mouthful of -the toast, which she swallowed with the same martyr-like air. Another -and another followed, taken with less and less reluctance; till at -last Bessie was surprised to see Maggie’s eyes remain open, and fix -themselves rather longingly upon the plate, as if she wished the -captain would make the intervals shorter. He took no notice, however, -but fed her slowly, till fish and toast had both entirely disappeared, -when he said,-- - -“I think we shall do now. I’ll be back in half an hour, Mrs. Bradford, -to see how my patient here is getting on,” and walked away. - -“Maggie,” said Bessie, as soon as he had gone, “wasn’t that meal very -nas--, I mean rather disagreeable?” - -“Why, no,” said Maggie, “it was delicious; and I think that captain is -lovely, Bessie. He’s the best doctor ever I saw. The next time I come -to sea--which I hope I never will again--I’ll put herring in my satchel -’stead of lemons. They never did me a bit of good.” - -Bessie privately thought this worse than the “pickle arrangement;” but -since the captain’s prescription had done Maggie so much good, she -had nothing more to say against it or him; and when he came back at -the promised time it was to find his little patient beginning to look -like herself, and talking and smiling with something of her accustomed -brightness. - -This was the last of Maggie’s seasickness, and by the next morning she -was nearly as lively and well as usual; though she now and then fell -into a fit of thought, as if she were considering some knotty question; -and she was observed to regard Margaret Bessie Marion with more than -usual interest, and to give her a great amount of petting and tending. -At length the question which was weighing on her mind found words. - -“Papa,” she said, “don’t lawyers know about wills?” - -“They ought to, Maggie,” answered Mr. Bradford. “Why, you don’t want to -make yours, do you?” - -“I have made it, papa,” said Maggie, with all the gravity of a judge. -“I told Bessie about it, but I want to know if it’s against the law to -undo the things you’ve willed, if you don’t die when you thought you -were going to.” - -“Not at all,” said papa, laughing: “you may make your will, and ‘undo -it’ as often as you please, while you are living.” - -“For the people won’t be disappointed as long as they don’t know you’ve -willed them the things,” said Maggie, meditatively. “Anyhow, I s’pose -my people would be more disappointed to have me die, than not to have -my things.” - -“They would indeed, little daughter,” said her father, drawing her -tenderly to him: “to lose our Maggie would be to take a great deal of -sunshine out of the lives of ‘your people.’” - -“And I know Bessie don’t care for my dollies so long as we can play -with them together: do you, Bessie?” - -“Oh, no! Maggie; and if I hadn’t you, I should never play again, but be -sorrowful all my life;” and Bessie put on an air of extreme melancholy -at the bare idea of such a possibility. - -So this matter being settled to the satisfaction of all, and Maggie -feeling like her own self once more, she and Bessie were free to enjoy -all the new pleasures about them. - -They were a merry, happy party, those four little girls, Maggie, -Bessie, Belle, and Lily; always pleasant and good-natured with -one another; never fretting or quarrelling in their play. As -for Maggie, her new friend the captain used to call her “Little -Make-the-best-of-it;” for her sunny temper found so much good in all -things, and so many reasons why all that was, was best. - -He escorted the young quartette all over the steamer, taking them down -into the machine rooms, where they saw the great furnaces glowing -with hot coals, and tended by strong men in scarlet shirts, with -their sleeves rolled up to the shoulders; where the iron beam and -pistons went up and down, up and down, without a moment’s pause or -irregularity; where each little wheel and joint went steadily on doing -its appointed work, without which the huge machinery must have stood -motionless and useless. - -The sympathies of the children, especially those of Maggie, were -greatly excited in behalf of a man whom they saw watching the steam -dial plates at the upper end of the engine room. There were three of -these plates, the centre one very large, the other two smaller; and the -man paced up and down the narrow platform in front, almost without a -moment’s pause, turning his eyes every now and then to the dials. - -“What funny clocks,” said Bessie, “and how that man watches them! Why -is he so anxious about the time?” - -“Only one of them is a clock,” said the captain; “the others are to -show how much steam we have on, and how it is working, and if all is -right.” - -Bessie did not understand, and said so; and the captain, taking her up -in his arms, tried to explain the use and working of the dials to the -little girls; but it was rather a difficult matter for them to take in, -and I do not know that he made it very clear to them. - -“But I want to know about that man,” said Maggie: “does he have to walk -here and look at these things all the time?” - -“All the time,” said Captain Brooks. - -“Doesn’t he eat and sleep?” asked Belle. - -“Oh! to be sure,” said the captain. “I said he was here all the time; -but I should have said a man was here all the time; for there is -another who takes his turn while this one rests.” - -“But are you not tired sometimes?” Bessie asked of the man, who just -then came to the end of the platform where she was. - -He nodded assent as he turned, but made no answer in words, did not -even smile, being a grum-looking man, and seeming altogether intent on -his dials. - -“He’s not very polite just to nod at you and not speak,” said Lily. - -“It is against the rule of the ship for him to talk while he is on -duty, and he always keeps the rule,” said the captain. - -“Oh!” said Maggie, her pity more than ever roused for the object of -her interest: “does he have to walk on this little bit of a place with -nothing to amuse him, and can’t even talk? I think that is pretty hard: -_I_ never could do it.” - -“But if he were talking and chatting with every one who came along, and -thinking only of his own amusement, he would forget his work and have -his attention taken off from those plates which it is his business to -watch constantly,” said the captain. - -“And then we’d be blown up or burnt up or drowned or something,” said -Maggie. - -“Not as bad as that, I hope,” said Captain Brooks, smiling; “but -something might readily go wrong before he perceived it.” - -“It seems like watching conscience all the time for fear we do -something naughty,” said Bessie, who had been thoughtfully regarding -the man since she last spoke. “If we forget conscience, or don’t pay -attention where it points, we can be naughty before we know it.” - -“Just so,” said the captain, looking at her half in amusement, half in -surprise; “but tell me, little one, do you find some moral lesson in -every thing?” - -“I don’t know what ‘moral’ is, sir,” said Bessie, demurely; “but I -think that man is a pretty good lesson to us.” - -Here roguish Lily, for whom the prospect of being “blown up or burnt -up or drowned or something,” did not seem to have any terrors, and who -had been all this time trying to distract the watchman’s attention by -shaking her head and finger at him, flirting her pocket-handkerchief, -and giving little squeaks and “hems,” all without any avail, suddenly -astonished him and accomplished her object, by firing a paper pellet -which hit him directly between the eyes. The gruff old fellow only -gave her a growl in return, however, and recommenced his pacing up and -down; but Lily went capering about in an ecstasy of delight at her -unlooked-for success, till the captain, who could not help laughing, -called her to order with,-- - -“Here, here, you elf! have done with your monkey tricks, or I shall -shut you up in a cage till we get to shore.” - -“You’ve none large enough,” said laughing Lily. - -“There are plenty of hencoops on board,” said the captain, pretending -to look fierce, “and carpenters too, to make any sized cage I may -order. You had better look out.” - -“I don’t think it’s fair to tease the poor man,” said Bessie, “he has -to be so stupid all the time, and he is so dutiful too. Let’s go away, -Captain Brooks, and not let him be teased any more.” - -So the captain took them away in search of other novelties; but Maggie -and Bessie did not forget “the poor, stupid man,” as the latter called -him, meaning only that she thought he passed his time in such a dull, -uninteresting manner; and they set their young wits to work to see if -they could not do him some kindness. - -“I don’t see the good of it,” said Lily. “The captain said he was a -surly old fellow, any way, and didn’t care to talk much when he could. -I guess we’d better just let him alone.” - -“We oughtn’t to judge by appearances,” said Maggie, gravely. “Bessie -and I have learned that.” - -“But not till we’d performed some pretty bad mistakes,” said Bessie: -“so take a lesson of us.” - -“Tell us about them,” said Belle; and accordingly Belle and Lily were -much interested in hearing of Lem and the silver cup, and of Aunt -Patty; Maggie also confessing how she had for a long time misjudged -Mrs. Jones, of Quam Beach, because she had a disagreeable manner. - - - - -III. - -_LUCY._ - - -Old ocean seemed to wish to make amends, during the last two days of -the short voyage, for the tossing and rolling he had given our friends -during the first. It was as smooth as a river almost, and broke itself -up into little wavelets which seemed formed only to sparkle and catch -the sunshine. The weather was warm and summer-like, growing more and -more so the farther south they went; and the children spent the whole -of their time on deck, even taking their meals there: for though Maggie -declared herself “all right now,” she could not eat when taken below, -and it was “such fun” to have breakfast, dinner, and tea, sent up to -them and eaten on deck in such _impromptu_ fashion, that the others -were only too glad of the excuse of bearing her company. Mamma and Mrs. -Norris preferred it too; so they had quite a sociable, cosey time of it. - -As for Bessie, she wanted “no better contentment” than to sit watching -the sea. The sky; the waves; the white sea-gulls, which now and then -came sailing round on their snowy wings; the other vessels they saw in -the far distance, or sometimes near at hand; the huge porpoises which -threw themselves with a sudden leap and plunge out from the water and -back again,--each and all had their charm for her; and, if undisturbed, -she would sit for hours, her doll clasped in her arms, gazing her fill, -and thinking her own thoughts. Happy, peaceful thoughts they were too, -if one might judge by the expression of her sweet little face. - -“How my Bessie loves the sea, does she not?” said her father, sitting -down beside her one time when he found her thus absorbed. - -“Yes, papa, dearly; but then I love the real sea better.” - -“But this is the real sea, darling.” - -“But I mean the _real, real_ sea, papa; the true, _very_ sea,” said the -little girl. - -“I do not know how you could have more real sea than this, dear,” said -her father, rather at a loss to know what she could mean. “We are many, -many miles from land. You can see none on any side. It is water, water, -the real true ocean, all around us, as far and farther than our eyes -can reach. You do not mean that you would have it rough and stormy?” - -“Oh, no, papa!” Bessie answered, rather puzzled herself how to make her -meaning plain to her father; “but I mean that kind of sea where the -waves come slowly, slowly on the beach, all white and curly, and make -that nice sound I like so much. It does not come in this kind of a sea.” - -“Oh, ho!” said her father, “I understand. It is the _seashore_ you are -longing for, even more than the open sea itself. Well, perhaps one of -these days, you may be there again.” - -“Oh! do you think I might be, papa? Oh, that would be so delightful!” -and she turned her little, eager, wistful face to her father with such -a sparkle in her eye. - -“I think it more than likely that such a thing will come to pass, -Bessie,” said Mr. Bradford; but he did not tell her what a pleasant -surprise awaited her in the course of her summer travels. - -“Papa,” she said again presently, “do not these dear little waves we -have to-day make you think of our Maggie? They seem just like her, as -if they were dancing and laughing, and so glad and gay.” - -“Yes,” said her father, pleased at the pretty conceit of the -affectionate little sister, “and God’s sunshine, pouring down upon -these merry waves and touching them with light and sparkle, is like the -love and tenderness which make our Maggie’s heart so gay and happy.” - -“And I am a little bit of Maggie’s sunshine: am I not, papa?” asked the -sweet Bessie. - -The reply came in a squeeze, half a dozen smothering kisses, and a -squeal meant to express affection and delight, from Maggie herself, -who, coming up behind them and hearing Bessie’s question, answered -after her own peculiar fashion. - -Yes: they were both true sunbeams, these two dear little girls: -sunbeams as all children may be, because they were happy; happy because -they were good and generous and loving; sunbeams to one another and to -all around them, shedding light and brightness wherever they passed. - -“Bessie,” said Maggie, when she had done hugging and kissing her -sister, “I’ve made a very surprising discovery. Do you see that little -girl sitting over there? I’ve seen her before.” - -“Yes,” answered Bessie. “She’s a kind of errand girl and helps the -stewardess. Yesterday morning when you were so sick she brought some -ice for you; but I didn’t speak to her, ’cause I felt so bad about -you.” - -“But, do you know who her father is, Bessie?” - -“No,” said Bessie. “Who?” - -“That man downstairs, the steam-clock man. Isn’t that very curious?” - -“Why, yes. How did you find out, Maggie?” - -“Well, Belle and Lily and I were there, while you looked at the water, -and that child came and stood by us; and she looked so very wishful -at our dolls, that I told her she might hold Bessie Margaret Marion a -little while if she would be careful of her; and you don’t know how -pleased she seemed then; and, Bessie, what do you think, the poor child -never had a doll in her life, ’cept only a rag one, and she has no -mother or sisters or any one but her father; and the captain lets her -live with her father on board the steamer; and she tries to help the -stewardess and run about; and she don’t like the sea a bit, she is so -tired of being on it most all the time; and she’s just my age, only a -year older; and Lily asked her if her father was a cross patch to her, -and she was rather mad at that, and said no: he was good and kind as -could be, and she loved him dearly. And so I told her Lily did not mean -to make her mad,--only we thought perhaps she did not find him very -interesting ’cause he would not talk much. But she did not seem to like -that very much either: so I said, very quickly, that maybe the reason -her father did not talk much was because he had so much thinking to do; -and then she looked pleased again, and said yes, that was it, but he -always talked enough to her. And then I told her I felt so very sorry -for him, ’cause he had to walk up and down that little place, with -nothing to do but to look at those old clock things; and I knew I never -could be so strict with my duty, for I would be sure to laugh or talk -or something.” - -“And didn’t she look pleased when you said that about her father?” -asked Bessie, when Maggie had come to the end of this long story. - -“Oh, yes! And she said he did not like to do it, but he had to make a -living,” answered Maggie. - -“I’m real sorry for both of them,” said Bessie. “You know, Maggie, we -said we would like to be kind to him if we could, ’cause he had such -a stupid time; and I s’pose he would be just as pleased if we did a -kind thing to his girl.” - -“Yes,” said Maggie: “if he’s a dutiful father, he would. I was thinking -we might give her a doll to amuse herself with.” - -“Not one of ours?” said Bessie, holding Margaret Colonel Horace fast, -as if she thought she was to be taken from her at once. - -“Oh, no! We never could give up these dolls,” said Maggie. “We love -them too much; and besides the Colonel gave them to us, so it would -never do. But then, you know, we have some of our own money with us; -and I thought when the steamer stopped going and we come to that part -of the world that is land again, maybe we might find a toy-store and -buy her a doll of her own.” - -“Yes,” said Bessie. “Papa, do they have stores in Savannah?” - -“Plenty,” answered papa, “and doubtless we shall find a toy-store -without trouble.” - -“And we may buy Lucy a doll, may we not, papa?” said Maggie. “You see, -it’s pretty hard for a child to have no relations, or dolls, or other -advantages, except only a father.” - -“Yes,” said Mr. Bradford, laughing, “if you choose to spend your money -to give pleasure to this little girl, who is so poorly off, you may -certainly do so.” - -The children were delighted with their papa’s consent; and when Belle -and Lily heard of the plan, they begged Maggie and Bessie to let -them join in giving this pleasure to the poor child who had so few -enjoyments. Maggie and Bessie readily agreed: and it was settled that -when they reached Savannah, one of the first things to be done should -be the purchase of a doll for Lucy Waters; for such was the name of the -little girl. - -Our four young friends were not the only children on the steamer with -whom Lucy had something to do, as you shall hear. - -“Father,” she said, as she sat upon his knee that evening, while he was -off duty, “there are some nice little girls on board, this trip.” - -“Humph!” was all the answer she received; for, in spite of Lucy’s -assertion that her father talked enough to her, he did not throw away -too many words, even upon her: but Lucy was used to his way, and did -not mind it, for she knew he loved her dearly. - -“There are,” she insisted. “One of them let me take her doll, and it -can turn its head; and she let me do it, and move its arms too. And -another one was kind to me when some other children said bad things to -me. There they are, father: don’t you see them?” and she pointed to -where Maggie and Bessie were sitting, with their father and mother. - -“Thought so,” said Waters, who was not really surly, but only silent -and unsociable. - -“Why how, father! Did you know about it?” - -“No,” replied her father, “but thought like enough it was them when you -said some spoke nice to you. Seem like kindly, loving, little souls.” - -“There are two more nice ones, that play with ’em,” said Lucy. - -“Humph!” said Waters again, “one of ’em is a saucy mischief, I guess.” - -“Oh!” said Lucy, “I know which one you mean. They call her Lily. I -didn’t like her so much at first; but I do now, ’cause she slapped a -boy’s face who said hateful things to me.” - -If Lucy imagined her father would ask what the boy had said, she was -mistaken; for he smoked away without a word more. But the memory of her -wrongs was too great to be borne in silence, and presently she said,-- - -“Are not my clothes very nice, father?” - -“Nice as I can afford, anyhow,” he answered without taking his pipe -from his lips. - -“I told that boy and his sisters they were as nice as anybody’s,” said -Lucy; “but maybe they’re not.” And taking off her bonnet, she turned -it round and round, eying it rather mournfully. “I don’t think this -kind of a hat is so nice as those little girls’, father; nor this long -apron so nice as their short frocks. I wonder if I couldn’t make -’em look better, so folks wouldn’t laugh at me.” - -Now, I think Waters was somewhat mistaken when he said Lucy’s clothes -were as nice as he could afford. He had good wages, and his little girl -did not want for what was necessary to make her neat and comfortable: -but he did not know how to dress her; and the enormous shaker bonnet, -which would have fitted a grown woman; and long, scant apron which came -to her feet,--cost no less, perhaps more, than the short frock and -round straw hat, which would have been more convenient and suitable for -a girl of her age. - -Poor Lucy knew she looked very different from most children of her -own size; but, although she kept herself very tidy, she did not see -how she was to remedy this difficulty. She was a funny little figure, -certainly: more so than she was aware of; but it had never troubled -her much until this afternoon, when some rude but well-dressed boys -and girls, who would have been very indignant if they had been told -they were not half so well-bred and polite as the engineer’s little -daughter, had annoyed her very much. - -Maggie and Bessie had noticed these children, but, seeing how rough -and boisterous they were, had rather avoided them. But that afternoon, -while they, with Belle and Lily, were talking to Lucy, and asking her -some questions about her homeless, seafaring life, these boys and girls -came up to them. - -Not having at that moment any dispute to settle among themselves, they -were ready to band together against any one else; and Lucy presented a -tempting mark for attack. - -“Ho! you seem to have picked up a fine acquaintance there!” said Arthur -Lathrop, the eldest of the brothers. - -“She is dressed in the last fashion,” said Charlotte, his sister, with -a scornful look at Lucy. - -“Quite the style,” joined in the other boy. “You brought your bonnet -from the Paris Exposition: did you not, ma’am?” - -Poor Lucy had not the least idea what the Paris Exposition was; but she -knew very well that these unkind children were making fun of her, and -she drew back with a hurt and angry look. - -“Couldn’t you give my sisters the pattern of that lovely bonnet?” said -Arthur. - -“And of that outside toggery too,” said William, “whatever its name is. -Not being used to such an elegant style of dress, I don’t know what to -call it.” - -“You ought to be ashamed to talk so,” said Bessie, indignantly. “She’s -a nice, good, little girl, who tries to be a help to every one; and if -her clothes are not so very pretty, she can’t help it. It is better to -have good clothes and be bad, than to have bad clothes and be good,” -added the little girl, saying just the opposite of what she intended. - -But no one noticed her mistake. The Lathrops were all too intent -on their victim, the other little ones too full of sympathy and -indignation, to pay much heed to a choice of words. - -“Well,” returned William, provokingly, “don’t we say she is the most -stylish, fashionable young lady we have seen this long time. For me, I -am struck dumb with admiration.” - -“To be sure,” said Charlotte, “didn’t you say that bonnet was the -latest fashion from the Exposition?” - -“Or from Noah’s ark: which is it? Pray tell us, miss,” put in Arthur -with a loud laugh. - -“Let her be, you bad boys,” said Belle. - -“She looks a great deal nicer than any of you,” said Lily, too anxious -to take up Lucy’s defence to think of the exact truth of her statement. - -“Oh! of course, of course,” retorted Arthur. “She is quite a model. I -propose we all ask our mothers to buy us just such clothes. Don’t leave -us, Miss Elegance;” and he caught hold of poor Lucy, who had turned to -run away. - -“Let her be,” said Lily. - -“You’re very ungrateful,” said Maggie. “This morning when you called -the stewardess, I saw Lucy run very quick to call her. You ought to be -ashamed all of you. You’re as bad as the Elisha children in the Bible, -that were eaten up.” - -“Are you going to let her go?” asked Lily, with a threatening shake of -her head at the young tyrant, who still held Lucy fast. - -“As soon as she tells us how many hundred dollars she paid for this -love of a bonnet,” said Arthur, tossing off the unlucky shaker with a -jerk of his thumb and finger. - -Without another word, Lily reached up her small hand, and gave the big -boy a sounding slap upon his cheek. In his surprise, he loosed his hold -of Lucy, who quickly snatched up her bonnet, and made good her escape. - -Arthur turned fiercely upon Lily; but she stood her ground, and not -exactly caring, bully though he was, to strike back at a girl so much -smaller than himself, he contented himself with catching her still -uplifted hand in his, and saying,-- - -“How dare you do that?” - -“’Cause you deserved it,” said Lily, sternly. - -“And I’ve a good mind to give you another,” said Belle. - -“Children! Children!” said Mr. Powers, who had seen from a distance -that trouble was threatening, and had come to prevent it. “What is the -matter here? Quarrelling and striking?” - -“I’m striking,” said Lily, rather proud of having given a blow in what -she considered a just cause; “but I’m not quarrelling, sir.” - -“No, papa,” said Belle. “We’re not quarrelling: it’s only those bad, -mean ones;” and she pointed at the Lathrops with as much scorn in her -tone and manner as they had used towards Lucy. - -But these children, knowing right well that their share in the dispute -was by far the worst, did not choose to face Mr. Powers’s inquiries, -and now scattered in all directions. - -“Striking and calling names look a good deal like quarrelling,” said -Mr. Powers, smiling. - -“But we had to take Lucy’s side, papa,” said Belle; and neither she -nor Lily was to be persuaded that it was not right for the latter to -strike a blow in Lucy’s defence. Indeed, Maggie and Bessie were rather -inclined to hold the same opinion, and all four were quite excited over -Lucy’s wrongs. - -While Lucy was telling her father the story, they were talking it over -among themselves; and knowing, in spite of their sympathy, that she -presented rather a comical figure, were trying to think of some means -by which they might help her to dress herself more like other children. -But they did not see exactly how it was to be done, nor did Mrs. -Bradford when they consulted her. - -“I fear it would not do to offer Lucy clothes, my darlings,” she said: -“those she wears, though odd-looking, are good and comfortable; and her -father might be offended if we offered her any thing which seemed like -charity, or let him know that we do not think her properly dressed.” - -“Mamma,” said Bessie, gravely, “do you think a thing is comfortable -when it makes a child laughed at?” - -“Well, no, dear, perhaps not,” answered Mrs. Bradford, smiling, “and I -am very sorry for Lucy. Mrs. Norris and I were saying this morning that -we wished we might tell the poor child how to make herself look less -like a little old woman, but we thought it would not do to interfere.” - -“I’d wish somebody would interfere if it was me,” said Maggie. “It must -be most _too_ much to have a father who won’t talk, and who has such -very bad taste.” - -This was said with so much emphasis, and with such a long-drawn sigh at -the end, as if the mere thought of such misfortune were almost too much -for Maggie, that every one laughed. - -Bessie had less to say about Lucy’s troubles than any of the others; -but she thought more of them: for we know how sensitive she herself -was to ridicule, and she could not bear to think that Lucy might have -to undergo the same trial again. - -“Mamma,” she said, coming to her mother’s side that evening, “there -are Lucy and her father sitting at the head of those steps, and she is -showing him those queer dressing-gown frocks of hers. Could I go and -speak to them?” - -Mrs. Bradford turned to see if it was a proper place for Bessie to go -to, and then gave her permission, thinking that her little girl might -possibly see some way to help Lucy, and trusting to her good sense and -kind heart not to say any thing that might give offence. - -“Maybe they’re not just the right shape,” said the engineer, as Bessie -came near; “but I don’t know how you are to better them;” and he turned -over and over the two frocks, just like the one Lucy had on, which lay -across his knee. “Maybe Dorothy would show you.” - -“I don’t like to ask her,” said Lucy; or Dorothy the stewardess, was -rather sharp and short with her. - -Bessie came close. - -“Would you be offended if some one tried to be kind to Lucy?” she -asked, seizing her opportunity. - -She was quite surprised to see how pleasantly Waters smiled as he -answered,-- - -“Not I. Those that are friends to my Lucy are friends to me.” - -“Some children laughed at her,” said Bessie, wishing to put the case as -gently as she could. - -The engineer frowned and nodded. - -“I told him,” said Lucy. - -“There’s no excuse for them,” continued Bessie, looking out over -the waters as if she were talking more to herself than to the man, -“but perhaps they would not have done it, if--if--if Lucy’s clothes -were--were a little prettier.” - -“And I’ll warrant if your power was as good as your will, you’d make -them prettier for her,” answered the engineer. “You’re a kind little -lady. Lucy was just asking me if I could tell her how to fix up her -things a bit; but I don’t know. Old Mrs. Sims, who does her washing and -sewing, she bought them, and I didn’t see but they were all right; but -now Lucy says they’re not, and she can’t do ’em over.” - -Lucy stood listening in amazement to this unusually long speech from -her father, who was very rarely so sociable with any one as he now was -with Bessie. - -“But you wouldn’t mind if mamma was to try and help her, would you?” -Bessie asked in a coaxing voice. - -“Mind!” said the engineer, “I’d be only too thankful, and so would -my Lucy; but such a lady as your mamma doesn’t want to bother with a -little stranger girl.” - -“Oh, yes, she does!” said Bessie, eagerly, “and mamma don’t think it -a bit of bother if she can do a kind thing for some one; and she said -she would like to fix Lucy up, ’cause she was such a nice, tidy child. -Come and show her these, Lucy;” and without waiting for more words, she -snatched up one gown, and taking Lucy by the hand drew her after her, -telling her to bring the other two with her. - -Lucy obeyed rather timidly; but the kind manner and words of the two -ladies, Mrs. Bradford and Mrs. Norris, soon put her at her ease, and -she became deeply interested in the plans for putting what Bessie -called “the dressing-gown” frocks into proper shape. - -There were four of them, all alike, of a good but dull gingham, without -the least shape or fit, save what was given by a string about the -waist; very long and scant,--so scant, that the ladies decided it would -take two to make one suitable frock. Lucy asked and readily obtained -leave from her father for this; and Mrs. Bradford allowed the four -little girls to begin the work that very night by ripping apart the -seams. - -She and Mrs. Norris went to work also that evening; and when the -steamer came into port the following night, Lucy was made happy by -having one dress made in a manner proper for a girl of her age; and -knowing that the second was surely promised to her by Mrs. Bradford. -Belle presented her with “the doll of moderation,” which she had -brought with her, she and her young friends having concluded to keep -their money for another purpose instead of buying a new one. - -The day on which the vessel started on her return voyage, Mr. Bradford -and Mr. Powers drove down with their little daughters and Lily Norris; -and the children brought Lucy not only her own gingham frock, but also -two others, of bright, simple calico, all nicely made up; and a straw -hat with a blue ribbon upon it. These were all their own presents, -bought with their own money, only the making having been paid for -by their mammas; so that the engineer could find no fault with the -kindness done to his little girl by these thoughtful young strangers. - -Lucy was contented beyond measure with her new clothes; but no words -could do justice to her satisfaction and pleasure in her doll. What a -treasure it was! What a delight in her rather lonely little life! She -talked to it, and caressed it, slept with it in her arms at night, -kissed it the first thing in the morning, dressed and undressed it, -and learned to use her needle in fashioning clothes for it. Her father -might be too busy to attend to her; Dorothy might snub her; fretful, -impatient passengers send her hither and thither till she was ready to -drop from fatigue,--she had one solace and delight that repaid her for -all: the recollection of that little china head, and the staring, blue -eyes which lay upon the pillow in her berth, the kisses which she would -run and snatch now and then, till her time was her own once more, and -she could pet and nurse her little treasure to her heart’s content. - -And so our four little travellers have begun their journey with a kind -deed which brought pleasure and comfort, such as they did not dream of, -into this poor, craving, young heart, which had had so little to feed -upon; and went upon their way followed by blessings and grateful, happy -memories. - - - - -IV. - -_AN OLD ENEMY BUT NEW FRIEND._ - - -It was late at night when our travellers reached Savannah, so late and -so dark that even quick-sighted, wide-awake Maggie could see nothing -about her as they rode to the hotel, save the twinkling street-lamps; -and she was as ready as the other children to be put to bed at once and -postpone all questions and sight-seeing until the morning. - -But you need not fear I am going to trouble you with a long description -of the beautiful, quaint, old city, with its numberless green squares -which make it so bright and airy; its broad avenues planted with -three rows of trees, so tall and wide-spread that their branches have -laced overhead, making lovely, leafy arches for one to pass beneath; -its roses--such roses! the like of which we do not see in our colder -northern climate; roses, which with us are only bushes, growing there -into trees, or running into luxuriant vines which clothe the fronts -and sides of the old-fashioned houses, covered with a profusion of -blossoms, and filling the air with their delicious fragrance. They were -just in the perfection of their glory when our friends arrived, and it -would be impossible to tell the delight Bessie took in them. Her love -of flowers here had full enjoyment in these her favorites. Morning, -noon, and night, she was seen with her little hands filled with -roses,--for the family were kept well supplied, thanks to the graceful -southern fashion of sending flowers to all newcomers and strangers; -they were twisted among her curls and worn in her bosom, laid beside -her plate at meals, and she would even have slept with them on her -pillow, if mamma would have allowed it. - -She made a pretty picture as she sat upon the staircase of the ---- -House, the day after their arrival, her lap full of red, white, -and yellow roses, which she was arranging with no small taste and -daintiness into bouquets for her people. - -Three pair of eyes were watching her,--those of a grave-looking -gentleman, who stood at the foot of the stairs; and those of Arthur -and Charlotte Lathrop, who were peering at her over the banisters from -above. But Bessie noticed neither until Arthur called her attention by -making a sound like a snarling dog. Bessie started and looked up, then -went on with her work in silence. - -“I say,” said Arthur, “are you making a wreath of roses for that old -Mother Hubbard you took such a fancy to on board the steamer?” - -Bessie made no answer. - -“Why don’t you speak when you’re spoken to?” said Arthur. “Did you give -your tongue to Mother Hubbard?” - -“When I’m talked to politely, I always do speak,” said the little girl. - -[Illustration: Bessie’s Travels. p. 82.] - -“Oh! and we’re not polite enough to suit you, I suppose,” said Arthur, -sneeringly. - -“’Tis only engineers’ daughters and the like who are fit company for -her,” joined in Charlotte. - -“We might go and take lessons from Mother Hubbard, and then perhaps -she’d like us better,” said Arthur. “I say, Miss Bradford, what school -did you learn your manners in, that you don’t speak when you’re spoken -to?” - -Bessie remained silent again. - -“Do you hear?” shouted Arthur. - -“Once I heard of a school where they only paid two cents for learning -manners,” said Bessie, demurely. - -“What then?” asked Arthur. - -“I should think that was the kind of a school you had been to,” -answered Bessie. - -“And why, I’d like to know?” - -“’Cause I shouldn’t think they could teach much manners for two cents.” - -Arthur was a clever boy with a quick sense of humor; and he was so -struck with what he considered the wit and smartness of the retort, -that he forgot to be angry, and, instead of making a sharp answer, -broke out into a hearty laugh. - -“Pretty good that!” he said. “You’ll do yet.” - -“Pretty good, and pretty well deserved too, my lad,” said the -gentleman, who had been standing below, coming up the stairs. “See -here, Clara, here is the Queen of the Fairies, I believe,” and he -turned around to a lady who ran lightly up behind him. - -“Queen of the Fairies, indeed,” said the lady, with a laughing look at -the little figure before her, in its white dress and shining hair, and -lap covered with brilliant flowers: “or Queen of the”--What she would -have said was lost, for after a pause of astonishment she exclaimed, -“Why! it is--yes, it is Bessie Bradford--dear little Bessie!” - -And regardless of her muslin dress with its fluted flounces and -ruffles, down went the lady on the stairs before Bessie; and, greatly -to her surprise, the little girl found herself held fast in the embrace -of a supposed stranger. - -But it was no stranger, as she found when she could free herself a -little from that tight clasp, and look in the lady’s face. - -“Don’t you know me, Bessie?” asked the lady. - -“Why! it’s Miss Adams!” cried Bessie, in as great amazement as the -new-comer herself. - -“And you are a little glad to see me, are you not?” asked the lady, -seeing with pleasure the smile and glow on Bessie’s face. - -“Not a _little_, but very, Miss Adams,” she replied. “I was very -interested about you, and always thought I’d like to see you again -after I heard you’d”--here she hesitated for a word. - -“Well,” said the lady. - -“I can’t think of the word,” said Bessie. “Oh, yes! reformed, that’s -it,--after you’d reformed. You know you wrote and told us about it -yourself.” - -At this “Miss Adams” went off into a fit of laughter, which sounded -very natural to Bessie’s ears; and yet there was a difference in that -and in her manner from those of the old days at Quam Beach; something -softer and more gentle; “more as if she remembered to be a lady, -mamma,” Bessie said afterwards. - -The gentleman smiled too. - -“Her words are to the point when she does find them,” he said. - -“They always were,” said the lady, giving Bessie another kiss. “Bessie, -this is the gentleman I found to make me ‘behave myself.’ I hope you’ll -find the ‘kitchen lady’ improved under his teaching.” - -Bessie colored all over face and neck. - -“Oh! please don’t,” she said. “I’m so sorry I said that; but I was -such a little child then, I didn’t know any better. I wouldn’t say such -a saucy thing now for a great deal.” - -“You need not be sorry about it, Bessie: I am not.” - -“Please don’t speak about it any more, ma’am,” pleaded the child. -“Couldn’t you let bygones be bygones?” - -“What do you mean by ‘bygones’?” asked the gentleman. - -“I thought it meant, sir,” said Bessie, modestly, “when a person had -done something they were sorry for, not to say any thing more about it.” - -“Very well,” said the lady, still smiling. “It shall be so, if you wish -it, Bessie. And now tell me how your mamma and Maggie and all the rest -are.” - -“Oh! they are all very well, except mamma, and she is better, and we -are travelling to do her good; and a great many things happened to us, -Miss Adams, since you knew us before.” - -“I don’t think it has ‘happened’ to you to grow much,” said the lady. - -“Oh, yes’m!” answered Bessie. “I used to be five, and now I’m seven; -and I’ve been to school too. We’ve all grown pretty old. Baby can walk -and talk now.” - -“And how do you like my doctor?” asked “Miss Adams,” as Bessie still -called her, glancing round at the gentleman who stood beside her. - -Bessie looked up at him, and he looked down at her, and when their eyes -met, both smiled. - -“I like him: he looks good and nice;” and the little girl, who had -already twisted a rose or two into the bosom of the lady’s dress, now -handed two or three to the doctor in her own graceful, gracious little -way. - -“What are you going to do with all those bouquets you have tied up so -tastily?” asked Dr. Gordon. - -Bessie told him whom they were for. - -“And who is this for?” asked Mrs. Gordon,--for so she told Bessie to -call her,--pointing to that which the small fingers were now arranging. - - -“It’s for a little girl down at the steamer, who is rather hard off, -and does not have a nice time, and has extremely ugly clothes,” -answered Bessie. “But then if they are the best she has, and she has no -mother, no one ought to laugh at her: ought they?” - -“Certainly not: who was so unkind?” asked Mrs. Gordon. - -“Some children who didn’t behave half so nice as she did, ma’am.” - -“Ah!” said the doctor; “and was that boy you were talking to just now -one of them?” - -“Why, yes, sir,” said Bessie, with some hesitation. “But how did you -know it?” - -“Oh! I am a good guesser,” answered Dr. Gordon. - -“I don’t know if I ought to have said that to him,” said Bessie, -thoughtfully. “I b’lieve I was pretty severe.” - -At this Mrs. Gordon went off into another fit of laughter; and the -doctor smiled as he answered,-- - -“It was pretty severe, it is true, Bessie; but not more so than he -deserved, especially if he had been teasing some poor child who could -not defend herself.” - -Bessie colored, and answered, “But I’m afraid I did it more ’cause I -was angry for his being impolite to me than for his teasing Lucy.” - -“But tell us all about it; and did you say the child had no mother?” -said Mrs. Gordon. - -In reply, Bessie told all she knew about Lucy, omitting, however, to -give any account of the unkindness of Arthur Lathrop and his brother -and sisters to the poor child. This was noticed by both Dr. and Mrs. -Gordon, but they pressed her no farther, seeing she did not wish to -speak of it. - -“There’s another will be glad to come,” said Mrs. Gordon, eagerly, to -her husband. “That will make five. You’ll see this engineer and speak -to him about it: won’t you, Aleck?” - -“All in good time, dear,” he answered quietly. - -Five what? Bessie wondered; and where would Lucy be glad to come? But -as she supposed they would tell her if they wished her to know, she -asked no questions. - -But her curiosity was not gratified just then, for the doctor now said -to his wife,-- - -“Come, Clara, we are keeping our friends waiting. You must tell little -Bessie about your plans some other time.” - -“Yes,” said Mrs. Gordon. “We have to go to a sick friend here in the -house, Bessie; but I shall come to call on your mamma to-morrow, and -then I shall see you again and ask her to let you come to me; for I -have something to tell you, in which I think you will be interested.” - -“Don’t you live here, ma’am?” asked Bessie. - -“Here? yes, here in Savannah, but not in the hotel; and I want you -to come to my house. By the way, where is Maggie? I thought you were -always together.” - -“Most always,” said Bessie; “but Maggie and the other children went -with Mr. Powers and papa to see a cotton-press; and mamma thought I was -too tired, so I told Maggie she need not mind leaving me. And now I am -glad I did not go.” - -“And I am sure I am glad,” said Mrs. Gordon, as she kissed Bessie for -good-by, and once more told her she should be sure to see her the next -day, and would arrange with her mamma the time when she and Maggie -might come and spend the day with her. - -Bessie was very anxious to know what Mrs. Gordon could have to tell -her which was to interest her so much, and which seemed in some way -to concern Lucy Waters; but she was a little doubtful regarding the -prospect of spending the whole day with her old enemy “Miss Adams,” not -feeling at all sure that she would like it, or that she might not fall -into some trouble, in spite of the very evident and pleasing change in -that lady. - -Maggie was not at all doubtful, and positively declared that she would -not go on any account; and she tried to persuade Bessie to join her in -begging their mother to refuse Mrs. Gordon’s invitation to them. - -“For Bessie,” she said, “you know a ‘bird in the hand is worth two in -the bush;’ and so, even if Miss Adams is so much better than she used -to be, it is wiser to stay away from her, and not give her the chance -of being disagreeable if she wanted to be.” - -Maggie had been much given to the use of proverbs lately, as you will -have perceived; and if one could possibly be fitted to her purpose, it -was made to serve, as on this occasion. - -But Bessie did not feel as if they had any excuse for refusing the -invitation so kindly given, nor did mamma when she was appealed to. - -“You certainly need not go if you do not wish it, my darlings,” she -said; “but do you think it likely, Maggie, that Mrs. Gordon would -invite you to her house, and then treat you unkindly? She must be a -good deal changed, it seems to me; and would it not look as if you were -unforgiving, if you refuse her kindness?” - -“Oh! I forgive her, mamma,” said Maggie, “though it _was_ my own Bessie -she plagued so, but then I thought her old habits might be too strong -for her, and break out again.” - -“You forgive, but don’t forget, eh, Maggie? Suppose you were Mrs. -Gordon, how would you like Miss Adams’ faults to be treasured up -against you, and allowed to stand in the way when you wished to show -good-will and kindness?” - -“I wouldn’t like it at all, mamma; and I suppose it’s not very Golden -Ruley for me to say I won’t go; so, if she asks us, I’ll make up my -mind to it.” - -Mrs. Gordon came the next day, according to promise, to call on Mrs. -Bradford; and invited not only Maggie and Bessie, but also Belle and -Lily, to spend the whole of Friday with her, promising to call for them -in the morning and bring them back at night. - -But perhaps you will find it more interesting to read Maggie’s own -account of this visit, which she wrote to Colonel Rush. - - “DEAR UNCLE HORACE,--Things are so very surprising in this - world that you never quite know how they are going to turn - out, of which the case is at present, Miss Adams or who was - Miss Adams but now Mrs. Gordon and you will remember her at - Quam Beach but under unpleasant circumstances to which we will - not refer but forget as well as forgive as mamma reminded me. - But you would be surprised to see how much she is improved - and so different to what she used to be which was greatly to - be desired of all her friends and a pleasure to all who wish - her well. So seeing she wished to make up for past offenses we - went to spend the day with her and she was very horspitable. - She came in her carriage to take us to her house which is most - handsome with roses and flowers of many kinds of which she - brought mamma a whole lot at the same time and invited all the - big people to dinner the next day. I think all this shows she - repents sincerely and is not the same woman but much changed - and ought to be encouraged to keep on doing well. She has a - nice husband named Dr. Gordon, but sober which is not his own - fault if he was born so and I pity him. And a sweet baby boy - named Aleck and crows and laughs with pleasure at us. But I - hope by no means you think we think him so sweet as May Bessie - which he is not and May Bessie is so near to us, which also he - is not and we love her far the best. Miss Adams was very kind - to us all day, indeed quite fond but most of all to Bessie, and - she played with us and amused us and I was glad I did not let - the devil which is a word that is not best to write unless it - is necessary get the upper hand and make me stay away out of - revenge or being shy. - - “But the most surprising and best thing of all, Uncle Horace - is what she is going to do with some of her money. You know - in those days of which we will not speak she had a great deal - more than she knew what to do with. Well, now she has found - a good use for some of it in a way well pleasing to God and - men. But I am too tired to write more to-day and will finish - it to-morrow--Well, to return on this day to Miss Adams and - her good works which shows she has read her Bible which urges - to repentance of sins and prophets by it which is a sight to - make the coldest heart to rejoice. She has a house not very - far from her own where she lives and she is going to have six - little girls there in the care of a nice, kind lady. And these - little girls are not to be happy children with mothers to take - care of them, but orfuns or without mothers or teaching or - training in the way they should go. For Miss Adams says she - knows what it is to be without a mother or some wise person to - guide her, and now that God has been so good to her she wants - to give a helping hand to some little girls who would be left - too much to themselves and not properly taught. She does not - mean to have very poor children, and if their friends wish it - they may pay a little money for them but the contrary if they - do not, and prefer charity though she does not think it such - and would like them to come without any pay. And here they will - have a happy home and be taught to be desirable women fit for - teachers or other good things and so it will be their own fault - if they don’t do it. And she has chosen four girls who are to - come in the fall when Miss Adams comes back from the north - because things cannot be quite ready till then, as the lady has - a sailor son who is to go to sea which I think a hard case for - his friends to have him leave his native land. And then the - house will be ready and the lady will go and the children will - come and Miss Adams is going to see if Lucy Waters’ father who - you know I told you about in my last will let her come too. - I think if he does not he will be much wanting in sence and - proper behaviour, but I think he will dont you? Miss Adams, - Mrs. Gordon I mean but I always forget to put her wedding name - says she feels so sorry for all little motherless girls, and I - am glad of it are not you? And so is Bessie and we think the - reason Miss Adams takes so much trouble for these little girls - is because she is afraid that if they do not have good care - they may grow up to be such women as she used to be when we - knew her before but which is not to be mentioned in these pages - and now she is quite ashamed of it. We cannot tell just yet if - Lucy’s father will let her come, but papa and the doctor are - going to the steamer this evening to ask him and when we know - Bessie will write and tell you all about it. And Bessie and - I have quite made up our minds to take Miss Adams for one of - our friends because we find her most sencible and kind and so - changed from her old ways which we will not remember if we can - help it. - - “And dear Uncle Horace and Aunt May we wish you were here - ’cause we are having such a nice time and I wrote such a - long letter I am afraid you will be tired of it but such an - interesting subject my brains were quite full and I had to and - you must excuse it. We send two kisses for May Bessie and four - for you and hope to see you once more in the future when we - come home. And we send a great deal of love from your loving - - “MAGGIE AND BESSIE.” - - “P. S. Savannah is such a fine city and so many trees and - roses that it seems strange to me that Alexander the Great and - Napoleon Bonaparte did not try to take it, being both men who - never minded their own business but always trying to take what - did not belong to them, speshally the latter whom in my heart I - heartily despise because he never did as he would be done by.” - - - - -V. - -_BELLE’S HOME._ - - -You may be sure there was not much trouble in gaining the consent of -Lucy’s father to the plan proposed for her welfare. He was only too -glad and thankful to feel that his motherless little daughter would -be placed where she would have a kind and prudent eye to oversee and -guide her; and where she would have the opportunity of growing up -into a useful and steady woman. This he knew she could not do in the -unsettled life she now led on board ship with him, and he had long been -considering what he should do with her. - -Lucy, though thankful, was not as much pleased, and shed some bitter -tears over the prospect. The poor child wanted to learn, and was glad -to have a settled home; but she dreaded the thought of parting from her -father, who would only be able to see her at such times as his vessel -should be at the port of Savannah, and who was the only person whom she -had to love her. But, in a day or two after, when she had seen Mrs. -Gordon, and heard her talk so kindly of all the pleasures and comforts -she would find in this promised home, she became more reconciled to it, -especially as the autumn still seemed a long way off to her, and she -had all the summer to go back and forth with her father on the sea. - -So she told her troubles to her doll; and the steady, blue eyes, which -never winked or softened, brought comfort to her, and seemed to give -her the assurance that she need not be parted from her, even to go to -her new home. If she had not had this beloved companion, it would have -gone much harder with poor little Lucy. - -Our little girls did not see her again; but last autumn, when they -were settled once more in their city home, after all their summer -wanderings, Mrs. Gordon wrote to them, saying that Lucy was quite -contented and happy under her care; and that she was a very good child, -being trustworthy and obedient, and showing a great desire to learn. - -So there we will leave her, hoping that she will, as Maggie says, -“prophet by all that is done for her and make a useful and happy -woman.” The doll went with her; and all the other toys and amusements -which were provided for her never made her tired or forgetful of this, -her first love, or of the dear little girls who had taken so much -interest in her. - -Our party did not remain long in Savannah, for the weather was becoming -warm and oppressive; but before they went away, they all spent a day on -Mr. Powers’ plantation. - -This was several miles from the city; and starting in the morning, -soon after breakfast, they drove out in the cool of the day. Their -way lay through dense pine woods; tall, stately pines, with long, -straight trunks; shooting upwards, without leaf or branch, for many -a foot, till they neared their height, when they put forth their -dark-green crowns, which cast such a sombre shade below. The shade was -no objection on this warm day, and a light breeze was stirring, which -was very refreshing; but it sounded rather mournful to Maggie and -Bessie, as it moaned through the mighty stems, and rustled the thick, -fragrant leaves overhead. It has a strange, peculiar sound, the wind in -those dark, pine forests of the South,--a sound rather saddening to any -listener. - -Maggie did not like it at all, and said so, which rather displeased -Belle, who, in her delight at returning to her beloved Southern home, -found every thing there perfect. However, as they drove on, both Maggie -and Bessie spied out so many objects which called forth their surprise -and admiration, that she was presently consoled, and concluded that -they “liked her own country pretty well, after all.” - -Here and there was a magnolia with its magnificent cream-white -blossoms, their delicious perfume mingling with the fragrance of -the pines; there a group of scarlet cardinal flowers, or a little -pool bordered with bright blue flags and spotted tiger-lilies; while -through the deep stillness of the woods came the sweet notes of the -blue-jay and mocking-bird. Once, as they were passing over a bridge -which crossed a marsh, Maggie called the attention of the others to two -turtles, great big fellows, larger than any the children had ever seen -at the North; “swamp turtles” Belle said they were. They scuttled out -of the way in their clumsy fashion, diving out of sight into the mud; -and Bessie said she thought they must be some of the unclean animals -spoken of in the Bible, since they liked to live in such a dirty place. - -The entrance to the plantation was through an avenue of magnificent -live-oaks, some of them so large that two or three men could not have -encircled them with their outstretched arms; and these splendid trees -were studded all over the lawn, spreading far and wide their branches, -which, unlike their neighbors the pines, they sent out very low,--so -near the ground in fact, that even Bessie could reach the gray Spanish -moss which hung over them in long festoons and wreaths. The children -had seen this curious moss before in the beautiful old cemetery of -Bonaventure, where the oaks are perfectly clothed with it; and Bessie -had admired it so much, that Maggie had taken up the idea of carrying -home enough to make “a bower” for her in their own little room. But she -thought it best to gain the consent of her father and mother to this -arrangement; not only because it was right, but also because nurse was -rather apt to call such things “truck and trash,” and to put them out -of the way as fast as possible. If papa and mamma said they might have -it, nurse might _call_ it what she pleased, but she could not throw it -away. - -Mr. Powers stood awaiting them on the steps of the veranda, for he had -been at the plantation for three or four days, while Belle and Daphne -had been left in Mrs. Bradford’s charge at the hotel; for he did not -think it best for Belle to sleep on the plantation at that time of the -year. - -She shrieked with delight when she saw him; and, in her hurry to -reach him, had nearly thrown herself from Daphne’s lap underneath the -carriage-wheels. There would have been an end to the day’s pleasure -then; but Daphne’s hand grasped her skirts, and saved her from a -terrible death. - -As it was, the whole party were startled; and her father’s face had -lost its smile of welcome, and looked rather pale as he came down the -steps and took her in his arms. - -“My pet!” he said, “always in too much of a hurry. This would have been -a sad meeting for papa, if you had fallen; but a good God took care of -you for me.” - -Belle clung about his neck and did not speak; for whether it were the -fright, or the sight of her father, or the return to the old home which -she had left at such a sad time, or perhaps all three, her feelings -took a sudden turn, and when Mr. Powers had brought his friends in and -welcomed them, and raised the little face to kiss it again, he found it -drowned in tears. - -“Why! my darling,” he said, “were you so frightened?” - -“I don’t know, papa,” sobbed the excitable little thing; “but, this is -home--only--only--mamma is not in it.” - -Tears, or something very like them, came to the eyes of all, even of -Mr. and Mrs. Norris, who had never known Belle’s dead mother; and Mr. -Powers turned hastily away, and stepped with her out on the veranda. - -“_Only_ mamma was not in it!” Ah, yes! that was the _only_ that made -all the difference in the world, so that home did not seem like home -any longer. - -It was some few moments before either of them were composed enough to -return; and when Mr. Powers came back he was alone, and told Bessie -that Belle wanted her to go to her. - -Bessie went out upon the veranda, which ran on all four sides of the -house, and around the corner she found Belle curled up on a settee -where her father had placed her. She stretched out her arms to Bessie -when she saw her, saying,-- - -“Bessie, I do remember mamma so much in my home, and you are a comfit. -You are my next best comfit to papa, ever since the first day you spoke -to me in school.” - -This was a pleasant thing for Bessie to hear; but she put aside her own -pleasure for the present, and thought only of being the “comfit” her -poor little friend called her. I wonder if there was any one among all -the people who knew her, who could have said that our dear Bessie was -not more or less of a comfort to them. - -Her sweet sympathy and gentle tenderness soon did Belle good, and -Bessie let her talk on about her mother as long as she would. - -Belle had been very bright and cheerful lately,--thanks to the friends -with whom she had been so much thrown,--and it was a good while since -she had had a fit of longing for her mother; but the coming to her home -had brought her great loss back to her, and just now she could think of -nothing else. - -“Do you know where they put my mamma before she went to heaven?” said -Belle. - -“No. Where?” answered Bessie. - -“Do you see those high trees over there, Bessie? They put her where -little brother and sister are, and ever so many grandpas and grandmas.” - -“But they didn’t put her soul there,” said Bessie. - -“No,” said Belle, “’cause that was God’s part, and it went to him. -And then she couldn’t speak or hear me or see me, but was all deaded -away; and so they put the rest of her over there, and put a great many -flowers over her. But that was a long, long while ago, before I went -away to the North, and I didn’t see where they put mamma this ever so -long. Maybe the flowers are all faded. Will you come and see, Bessie?” - -“We must ask mamma or your papa first,” said Bessie. - -“They would let us,” said Belle: “it’s a very safe place. I used to -often go there when mamma was alive, to be by little brother and -sister, and she is there now. There couldn’t any danger come to us -where mamma is: could there, Bessie?” - -“No: I guess not,” said Bessie. “I s’pose mother-angels take care of -their little children. I’ll go with you, Belle dear, if you’re quite -sure your papa will let us.” - -“I know he would, Bessie; and I’d just as lief ask him; only then -Maggie and Lily will come too. I’d like Maggie to come, but Lily laughs -so much. I love Lily; but I don’t want any one to laugh where my mamma -is dead.” - -“No,” said Bessie, with the most caressing tenderness of tone and -manner, “they shan’t; and I’ll go, Belle.” - -With their arms about one another’s necks, the two little things ran -down the piazza steps, and the shady path, through which Belle led the -way; but as they came near the small burying-ground, their steps grew -slow and more reverent. - -It was an exquisite spot. An iron railing enclosed it, but the rails -were hidden by the green vines which overran them, and within it was -beautifully sodded; the green broken here and there by the white -marble monuments and slabs which marked the resting-place of Belle’s -relations. Flowers of the loveliest kinds were blossoming over and -around them, and all showed the utmost care and loving remembrance. -Over the entrance was an arch, also of white marble, and on the stone -were cut the words, “He giveth His beloved sleep.” - -“How sweet it is!” exclaimed Bessie, struck at once with the lovely -quiet and peace of the place; and then she looked up and spelled out -the letters on the arch. - -“Sleep! that was what mamma said: it was only like a sleep if we loved -Jesus and tried to do what He wanted us to, and I think it must mean -Him when it says, ‘giveth His beloved sleep.’ What dear words! are they -not, Belle?” - -“Yes,” said Belle, but without paying much attention to what Bessie was -saying, for her eye had caught sight of a new object in the enclosure. - -“See!” she went on, catching Bessie by the arm: “there’s a stone there -where they put mamma;” and drawing Bessie with her, she pushed open the -light gate. - -It swung easily back, for it was unfastened. There were none here to -intrude, no one came here who would not guard with the greatest love -and reverence the little spot sacred to “His beloved.” - -“His beloved!” For of those who lay there, not one but had closed -their eyes in the full faith that they should open them again upon the -brightness of His face. Truly that was “God’s Acre.” - -The “stone” which had attracted Belle’s attention was a shaft of pure -white marble upon her mother’s grave. The centre had been cut away so -as to leave four small arches, one on each side, and beneath there was -a cross, with the letters “I. H. S.;” before that an open Bible, with -the words, “I will not leave you comfortless.” - -The sculptor had done his work perfectly; and the snowy marble showed -in beautiful contrast with the dark, glossy leaves of the bay tree -which spread its arms above it. - -“Papa put it there, I know he did,” said Belle, after she and Bessie -had stood looking at it in silence for a moment or two. - -“Yes: I s’pose he did,” said Bessie: “let’s see what these words are, -Belle.” - -By standing on tiptoe, the little ones could manage to see the letters -carved upon the book; and Bessie read them out as she had done those -over the gateway. - -“‘I will not leave you comfortless,’” Belle repeated after her. “Why! -mamma said that herself a little while before she went to heaven. Maybe -that was why papa put it there.” - -“And Jesus said it,” replied Bessie. “It’s in the Bible, in a chapter -I’ve heard very often. Don’t you remember, Belle? It begins, ‘Let -not your heart be troubled;’ and Jesus said it Himself. Perhaps the -reason He told people not to be troubled was He was going to promise to -comfort them when they had something very bad to bear. It’s the best -comfort to know He loves you and will take you to heaven to see your -mamma some day: isn’t it, Belle?” - -“He will if I’m good,” passing her little hand slowly and caressingly -over the marble; “but then I’m not always good.” - -“No,” said Bessie, “not always; but mamma said you was not near so -spoiled as you used to be. I think you’re pretty good now, Belle.” - -“I slapped Daphne’s face this morning,” whispered Belle, remorsefully. - -“Oh! did you?” said Bessie. “Well, Belle, I used to slap people -sometimes, even when I had mamma to teach me better, and there was no -excuse for me.” - -“But my own mamma _did_ teach me better, Bessie. I slap Daphne pretty -often, but she never tells papa; and I promise myself I’ll never do it -again, and then I just do.” - -“Did you ever promise Jesus and ask Him to help you not to do it?” -asked Bessie. - -“No,” answered Belle. “I didn’t think of it. I could do it now, -couldn’t I?” - -“Yes,” said Bessie. - -They knelt down together side by side, and Belle said in a soft but -steady voice, for her tears had now ceased,-- - -“Dear Jesus, I promise not to slap Daphne any more, or not to be -naughty any more if I can help it; and you will help me to be good. -Amen.” - -Then pressing her lips to the cold stone, as if it were the warm, -living cheek she had once caressed, she said in a pleading, pathetic -whisper,-- - -“Dear mamma, your little Belle will try to be just as good as you would -want her to be if you were here wif her.” - -Will any doubt that the “mother-angel” heard and rejoiced over the -simple promise uttered by her little one’s trusting lips? - -“Do you think it really makes Jesus glad when I’m good?” asked Belle, -when they had risen from their knees. - -“Oh! to be sure it does,” answered Bessie. - -“And He _did_ leave me some comfit: didn’t He, Bessie? He left me papa, -and He gave me you and Maggie too; and your mamma is a great comfit -too.” - -“Mamma’s the best comfort of anybody,” said Bessie. - -“Oh, no, Bessie! oh, no! Papa best--you next.” - -Bessie did not contradict her, though she thought it a very strange -opinion for Belle to hold, and was not at all convinced herself. - -“I wish papa was here to stay with me by mamma a little while,” said -Belle, presently. - -“Shall I go ask him to come?” asked Bessie. - -“Yes,” said Belle. “Do you know the way?” - -“Oh, yes! It’s right up that path, isn’t it?” - -Then she kissed Belle and left her, turning back as she passed through -the gate, to look at her little playmate sitting by her mother’s grave -and leaning her head pensively against the monument. But Belle smiled -as she met Bessie’s eye, and the little girl felt that she had not -been left quite “comfortless.” Her own heart was very full of love and -sympathy. - -Bessie ran up the path till she was nearly half way to the house, when -she was brought to a sudden stand-still by what she thought a very -alarming object. Just before her was a large black dog, broad-chested, -tall, and fierce-looking, standing directly in the path, and seeming as -though he meant to dispute the way. - -Bessie’s heart was in her mouth and her knees shook; but she did not -scream. She looked at the dog and he looked at her, but he did not bark -or growl. Then she found her voice, and tried what coaxing would do. - -“Nice doggie, nice little doggie,” she said to the great creature. -“Does little doggie want Bessie to go away? Well, she will. But then -the good little fellow mustn’t bark at Bessie and frighten her.” - -Bessie had an idea that her seeming enemy could bite as well as bark if -he saw fit occasion; but she did not think it wisest to suggest it to -him. - -It must have been a hard-hearted dog, indeed, which could have resisted -that insinuating voice and smile, and either bark or bite; and this one -did not seem inclined to do the one or the other; but then neither did -he seem to intend to move out of the path, but stood stock still gazing -at his unwilling little companion. - -Seeing that he appeared peaceable, Bessie took courage, and, edging off -upon the grass, went a few steps forward. But as she passed the dog, he -turned and placed himself before her, though still without any show of -attacking her. - -Bessie was pretty well frightened; but she began her wiles again, -talking to him as she would have done to Baby Annie or Flossy. - -“Poor fellow! nice doggie. Bessie wouldn’t hurt little doggie for any -thing. Doggie, doggie, doggie! He’ll let Bessie go to the house, won’t -he? Don’t he want to go and see Belle down there?” - -Now you must not think that Bessie wanted to save herself by exposing -her little friend; for she knew that this must be Duke, the great -English blood-hound, of which Belle had often spoken, saying how loving -and good Duke was to her, although he was fierce and unfriendly with -strangers. - -But no, all coaxing proved useless: the dog stood his ground and would -not suffer her to pass, even giving a low growl and seizing the skirt -of her dress when she tried once more to do so. - -Bessie was dreadfully frightened, and was about to call aloud for help, -when she saw Mr. Powers coming towards her from the house. As he came -down the path, a great snake glided from beneath some low bushes on -the other side, passed swiftly over the narrow path, and would have -been out of sight in an instant, had not the dog, suddenly all alert, -bounded forward, seized it by the back of the neck, and giving it a -violent shake, left it lying dead. - -“How is this, dear child?” said Mr. Powers, looking from the dog and -snake to the child. “Old Ben told me he had seen you and Belle going to -the burying-ground. Where is Belle?” - -“Yes, sir, we did,” answered Bessie; “and Belle is there now, waiting -for you to come to her mamma’s grave. I was just coming to tell you, -and that dog stopped me. He’s a pretty naughty dog; he wouldn’t let me -go on, and he killed the poor snake that did not do a bit of harm, but -was just running away as fast as he could.” - -“Duke knew he would do harm if he but found the chance, my child,” -said Mr. Powers. “That is a very venomous snake, and the dog’s care -may have saved you from being badly bitten. Good Duke! brave fellow!” -and Mr. Powers patted the dog’s head. “It is years and years since -we have seen a snake of this kind upon the plantation, and I hope it -may be long before we see another. You and Belle have each escaped a -great danger this morning, Bessie. I am glad too that old Duke was not -bitten.” - -Bessie was very grateful to Duke now, and she too patted and caressed -him. He seemed to think himself, that he had performed a great feat, as -indeed he had; and kept looking up at his master and thrusting his nose -into his hand as if to call for more thanks. Bessie’s attentions he -received more coolly, though he permitted them. - -“Run up to the house now, you steady little woman,” said Mr. Powers: -“your mother is wondering where you can be, though she said you were to -be trusted not to get into mischief. It is a good thing to have such a -character, Bessie.” - -When Duke saw that Bessie and his master were going in different -directions, he seemed to be divided in his own mind as to which one he -had better accompany. But after looking from one to the other he seemed -to decide that Bessie needed his protection, and trotted gravely along -by her side till she reached the house, when he turned about and raced -after his master. - -Bessie went in and told her story, but so simply and with so little -fuss that her mother had no idea of the danger she had been in, till -Mr. Powers came with Belle and told how she, as well as Belle, had been -mercifully preserved from harm that morning. - -When Belle came back with her father, she was quite composed, and soon -became cheerful again, though she was rather more quiet than usual all -the morning. - -As soon as the party were rested after their drive, they all went out -for a walk about the place. Mr. Powers’ estate was a rice plantation, -and the children were greatly interested in going through the mills -and seeing how the rice, so familiar to them as an article of food, was -prepared for the market. They were particularly so, in watching the -husking of the rice. The grain was stored on the second story of the -buildings, in great boxes or bins. There was a little sliding-door in -each of these, just above the bottom of the bin; and when the men were -ready to go to work, a trough was placed leading from that, through -a trap-door, to a hopper on the floor below. Then the bin door was -opened, and the rice in its brown husks slid through the trough into -the hopper beneath, and from thence into the mill, on each side of -which stood a man who turned the arms of the mill. In this, the outer -husk was stripped from the rice; then it passed through another wide, -covered trough, into the sifting or winnowing machine. This was a large -box with a wheel at the bottom which turned the rice over and over. As -it came to the top, the chaff was blown away by a great “four sided -fan,” as Bessie called it, made of four pieces of canvas stretched in -different directions, and fixed upon a roller which was turned round -by a man, and fanned away the light husks broken from the grain on its -passage through the mill. But this was only the outer husk; and it had -to go down a third trough into another mill, where the inner covering -was taken off; then through a second fanning machine, from which it -came out clean and white; and lastly into a third building, where it -was led into another range of bins, till it should be necessary to put -it into the bags and barrels in which it was sent to market. - -Maggie, as usual, wanted to “help;” and the good-natured colored men -who were about let her try her hand at just what she chose, provided -it was safe for her. Indeed, all the children, even Belle, to whom -the amusement was not new, were greatly pleased to pull up the -sliding panels of the bins, and see the rice come pouring down into -the mill-hopper, and to thrust their hands and arms into the white -grain, and shovel it into the bags. So entertained were they with -this business, that the older people walked on when they had satisfied -their own curiosity, leaving the children in the care of old Cato, who -promised to see that they came to no harm. - -“We’ve done a whole lot of work, Mr. Powers,” said Maggie, when they -were called back to the house to dinner. “I think your men must be -pretty glad we came.” - -“Yes,” said Lily: “we’ve most filled two bags and a barrel.” - -“And we didn’t spill very much either,” said Bessie, who was at that -moment laboring away with a wooden shovel, on which she contrived to -take up about two table-spoonsful of rice. - -“Capital!” said Mr. Powers: “you’ve earned your dinner to-day, have you -not?” - -Whether the dinners were fairly earned or no, the exercise had given -them all good appetites, and they were not sorry to go in and take -their seats at the well-furnished table. - - - - -VI. - -_LETTERS._ - - -Maggie had seized the opportunity when Bessie was not near, to ask Mr. -Powers for the Spanish moss. - -“Mr. Powers,” she said, “is not that moss private moss?” - -“Private moss? How private, Maggie?” said the gentleman. - -“I mean is it not your own to do what you like with?” - -“Certainly: if growing upon my trees and on my grounds can make it -mine, it is, dear?” - -“Then could you let me have some of it, quite a good deal?” said -Maggie, to whom it had been a great effort to ask this; but the -thought of pleasing Bessie upheld her courage. - -“Oh! to be sure; a whole wagon-load if you want it,” said Mr. Powers, -smiling, and without the least idea that Maggie would take his words -almost literally. - -The next thing was to ask mamma’s consent to carry it home, and this -also was obtained without difficulty; Mrs. Bradford having no idea of -the extent of Maggie’s ideas, and supposing she only wanted a small -quantity as a curiosity. - -Accordingly, Maggie took the other children into her confidence as soon -as they were all sent out again to play under Daphne’s care. Bessie was -delighted with the plan, and kissed and thanked her many times; and the -other two were quite ready to lend their aid. - -So they all set to work to gather the moss, Daphne, too, giving a -helping hand, at her little lady’s request; though as she saw the great -pile they heaped together, she was more than doubtful as to the use -of such exertion. To gather it might be allowed,--it would never be -missed from the trees,--but to carry it home was another thing. - -But she let them take their own way; for she could never bear to refuse -Belle any thing, least of all to-day, when Belle had come and put her -arms around her neck, and laid her soft fair cheek against her old -nurse’s dark one; telling her she was “sorry for every time she had -slapped her; but she would never do it again, for Jesus was going to -help her, and mamma would ask Him to, she was sure.” - -So if Belle had asked to dance upon Daphne’s head, or do any other -extraordinary or unheard-of thing, I think the old woman would have -contrived in some way to grant her darling’s wish; and she meekly stood -pulling off the long, gray, pendant mosses, and heaping them in the -little, eager, outstretched arms which returned to her again and again. - -Great was the amazement of the grown people to see the procession which -appeared, when at last the carriages came to the door to take them -back to the city, and the children were called to make ready. - -First came a negro lad whom Maggie and Belle had pressed into the -service, showing his two rows of white teeth, and rolling up his eyes -with enjoyment of the fun; while he pushed before him a small hand-cart -filled with the precious material, which was to make such a lovely -“Bessie’s Bower” of the familiar little room far away at the North; -next Bessie and Belle trotting along, half hidden beneath the moss -which Maggie had heaped in their arms and around their necks; then -followed Maggie herself, and Lily, toiling away at a large wheelbarrow -piled with the spoil; old Daphne bringing up the rear, also carrying -her share and looking rather sheepish. - -“Here’s ‘Birnam wood come to Dunsinane,’” said Mr. Bradford, laughing, -as he first perceived the approaching show. “What are the little ones -about? Some freak of Maggie’s, doubtless. What a busy, contriving -little head it is. What is all that for, Maggie?” as the children came -within hearing. - -“To take home to New York to make a bower for Bessie in our room, papa. -Mamma gave us leave, and Mr. Powers said we might take all we wanted,” -answered Maggie, not in the least doubting that she was quite secure -with both these safe-guards. - -“Dearest child!” said Mrs. Bradford when she could speak for laughing. -“I never supposed you had any idea of taking such a quantity.” - -“I told you I wanted quite a good deal, mamma,” answered Maggie, -beginning to quake for the success of her plan, when she saw how -astonished and amused the grown people were. - -Poor Maggie! So many of her fine plans had come to grief lately, and -still she must always be forming new ones. - -“And how do you propose carrying all this home, Maggie?” asked Mr. -Bradford. - -“Oh! Belle says there are boxes under all the seats of the carriage, -papa; and we can carry it to the hotel in these. And then I thought -maybe you could find some way to send it home in the steamer, when Mr. -Powers sends the sweet potatoes and things to grandmamma.” - -“And if there’s too much to go into the carriage boxes, we have a great -many baskets, and we will lend Maggie some,” said Belle. - -“And we are all going to carry some on our laps, we are anxious for -Bessie to have her bower,” said Lily. - -“I’d like it very much, mamma,” pleaded Bessie, last of all. - -“My dear children,” said Mrs. Bradford, “I am sorry to disappoint -you; but it would be impossible to carry all that moss home. Not the -half of it could go in the carriage, even if we all made ourselves -uncomfortable for the sake of carrying it; and you would soon grow -tired of such a bower.” - -“But it is useful as well as ornamental, mamma,” said Maggie, with an -air as if this quite settled the matter in her favor; “for Belle says -the poor people here make beds of it, and if we ever do grow tired of -it we could give it to some poor person, and they might be very glad of -it.” - -“And I never _will_ be tired of it, mamma, even when I’m grown up, -Maggie made it,” said Bessie. - -“My darlings,” said mamma, “it is impossible. You may carry home a -basket full if you will, but I could not allow your room to be filled -with it, and it would be too much trouble to pack such a quantity, and -send it to New York. You must rest content with a little, dear Maggie. -There are a great many reasons why your plan will not do, though it was -kind in you to think of pleasing Bessie; but we will find some other -way of doing that.” - -Maggie’s disappointment was very great, as was that of all the little -girls; but when mamma said a thing, it was to be; and Maggie knew she -would never deprive them of any pleasure that was best for them to -have. So she tried to bear it as cheerfully as she might, though there -were tears in her eyes, and she gave a sigh which seemed to come from -her very shoes, as she dropped the arm of the wheelbarrow. - -“I’m afraid you would have to call your room the ‘Spider’s Bower,’ if -you decked it with that moss, Maggie,” said Mr. Powers; “for those -insects are very fond of it, and will gather where it is.” - -“Ugh!” said Maggie; and the Spanish moss at once lost half its charm -for her, for she had a great dislike to spiders. - -Seeing that she bore her disappointment so well, Mr. Bradford took an -opportunity of telling Maggie a secret, which went a great way towards -consoling her. But she had some time to wait before this secret bore -fruit; and as we are not going back with Maggie and Bessie to their -city home, perhaps you would like to know what it was. - -In the autumn when their travels were ended, and they reached home, -where a great deal of papering and painting had been done during their -absence, they found their own little room decked forth with the most -enchanting wall-paper that ever was seen. On a pearl-colored ground -ran a vine of green leaves, and bright berries, and here and there, -perched upon the stems, or hovering over and pecking at the berries, -were the most brilliant colored birds. Never was seen a prettier paper, -or one more suited to a little girls’ room; and both Maggie and Bessie -were quite satisfied with such a “bower” as it made of their cosey -little nook; and the Spanish moss, well beaten and shaken, to destroy -all spiders who might have found a retreat therein, was consigned to -the boys’ play-room in the top story of the house. Though by that time -it had lost its first novelty and charm, both Maggie and Bessie still -had a clinging to it, as a memento of their pleasant visit to Belle’s -beautiful Southern home. - -Maggie was still farther consoled that evening when they reached the -city, by finding two letters awaiting her, and one for Bessie. Maggie’s -were from Uncle Ruthven and Fred, and Bessie’s was from Harry. - -You shall have them all. Uncle Ruthven says,-- - - “I cannot tell you, dear little Maggie, how much we all miss - you and darling Princess. I do not like to go to your house and - find no smiling faces looking out of the window, or running to - the front door, or head of the stairs when Uncle Ruthven comes. - So I do not go very often; only now and then to see that all - is going right during your absence. I hear nothing from the - William Tells and Rip Van Winkles, and therefore conclude they - are still enjoying their long nap. - - “Our house is quite gay, however, what with the three boys, - Flossy, and Marygold, all of whom are flourishing. - - “Flossy was very mopish for a day or two after you left; and - kept himself hidden under sofas and behind curtains, in a most - melancholy manner, refusing to play, and eating very little. - He is in better spirits now, however, though not as frisky as - usual; and Harry and Fred take him out every day for a walk; - but when they come towards home, he always insists on turning - into your street; and when they take him up and bring him to - our house, he falls into low spirits again, and retires into - private life until the next meal-time. - - “Marygold is well, and sings away as merrily as he did in - your own room at home. Aunt Annie wanted to put him in the - conservatory with the other birds, but grandmamma said, no: he - must hang in the bow-window of her own sitting-room; for since - she could not have you, she must have something which belonged - to you about her. So there he swings and sings, reminding us - constantly of our Maggie and Bessie so far away. - - “As for Frankie, he is as mischievous and roguish as ever, - and pretty saucy into the bargain. He seems very much afraid - that grandmamma will think she is to take his mamma’s place - altogether; and every morning when he comes down to breakfast, - enters the room with,-- - - “‘Damma, I’ll stay wis oo, and mind oo des dis one more day. - Den I do back my mamma’s house and mind her.’ - - “If grandmamma tells him to do or not to do any thing, he says: - ‘Yes, I’ll mind oo dis once; but oo’re not my mamma.’ - - “‘But she is my mamma, and I make all little boys mind her,’ I - said to him this morning. - - “He looked gravely at me for a moment, and then said, ‘Den be a - dood boy ouself, and den I will see ’bout it.’ - - “The rogue gave us a good fright yesterday. I was writing - letters in the library, when he came in, and asked if he might - stay with me. I gave him leave, provided he was quiet; and for - a wonder, he was so; standing for some time looking out of the - window, till he saw a poor drunken man go by, when he turned to - me and said,-- - - “‘When tipseys walk, they run.’ - - “After that he came down, and I gave him the great book of - animals you know so well, with which he amused himself for some - time, telling the animals about the ‘poor tipseys.’ He was - very sweet and good, and being much engaged with my letters, I - did not pay much attention to him. But, after a time, I looked - around to see if he was in mischief, and he was nowhere to be - seen. - - “The book lay open on the floor, and one or two toys beside - it, but no Frankie. The door stood open, and thinking he must - have slipped out, I went in search of him. He was not to be - found. Grandmamma, your two aunts, and all the servants were - soon alarmed, and joined in the search, but all in vain; and we - were just about sending to mamma’s house, to see if he had run - away there, when Aunt Bessie saw a little fat hand peeping out - of the almost closed door of one of the bookcases. She ran and - pulled it open, and there lay our lost boy, fast asleep. He had - crept in among the papers and pamphlets, and, drawing the door - nearly to, had fallen asleep without meaning to, in his quiet - nook. He woke to find us all looking at him, and was very angry - at himself for going to sleep; exclaiming, ‘I des b’lieve I - went to seep, and I tates no more naps in de daytime. I ’samed - of myself.’ - - “Harry and Fred are going to write to you, so I will leave them - to speak for themselves. We are all well here, and last evening - had the great pleasure of reading the letters you and Bessie - wrote to the Colonel and Mrs. Rush, and which they kindly - brought around to us. - - “Write to me soon, and tell all your adventures to your - affectionate uncle, - - “RUTHVEN STANTON.” - -Harry’s letter to Bessie came next, and ran thus:-- - - “PRECIOUS PET PRINCESS,--It seems to me as if it were two - months instead of two weeks since you went away, and I can’t - tell you how I want to see you. But it is all right, for I - know you are having first-rate times, and dear mamma is getting - ever so much good. We’re not having such a bad time either, - though it’s not like having you all home. Uncle Ruthven is a - first-rate fellow to stay with, I can tell you, and when we - have finished our lessons, he always has some fun on hand for - us. So we don’t have time to feel very lonely. But I am glad - for your sakes that you and Mag were not left behind, for you - would have felt worse about it than Fred and I do. - - “Last Saturday we all went to Riverside, we boys on our ponies, - of course, and had a famous day. Uncle John has a new boat, - and he and Uncle Ruthven rowed us across the river,--they let - Fred and me take an oar by turns, too,--and we went up the - Palisades. Isn’t there a splendid view up there, though? You - can see ever and ever so far. There were lots of Bob Whites - about, and we heard them all round us, and we came upon two - fellows with dogs and guns hunting them. I hope they didn’t - have much luck, the old rascals! - - “Haven’t we had a time this afternoon? I don’t know just how - it happened, but I think Master Marygold must have opened the - door of his cage himself,--for we have seen him pecking away at - the catch several times lately; and Uncle Ruthven, only this - morning, told Jane to twist a piece of wire round it when she - cleaned the cage. But Jane forgot it, and so this afternoon - Frankie came running in saying, ‘Marydold’s few away;’ and - sure enough the cage was empty and no Marygold to be seen. But - after awhile we heard a saucy ‘cheep,’ and there, on the top - of grandpapa’s picture, sat my gentleman as independent as you - please; and, before we had time to shut the window, out he flew - into the yard. Weren’t we in a way though, thinking what you - and Maggie would say to come home and find him lost. He hopped - around for a while, flying off every time any one went near - him, and at last flew clear away over the neighbors’ gardens, - and we gave him up for lost. - - “Grandmamma put his cage outside, hoping he would grow homesick - and come back. And sure enough; for she was taking a nap in - her bow-window about sunset, when she was waked by a ‘cheep, - cheep,’ and there was Marygold hopping about on her work-table, - and asking pardon for his naughtiness as plainly as any bird - could. She brought his cage, and in he popped, glad enough - to be at home. So he’s all safe once more, and his cage made - secure, so he can’t try that dodge again. - - “You know Colonel Rush has taken a house at Newport for the - summer, and he wants us all to come there when we get through - with our other wanderings. Won’t it be jolly? Then you know we - are to spend October at dear, old Chalecoo; so you will have - change enough for one six months. What travelled young ladies - you and Maggie will be! - - “I think I have written the most correct and proper letter in - the world, and hope your dear little highness will not find any - ‘unproper impressions,’ as you once said when Fred used some - slang word; and that it will altogether suit your notions. Lots - of love and kisses to all from - - “Your loving brother, - - “HARRY.” - -Here is Fred’s letter to Maggie. - - “DEAR OLD MIDGET,--Don’t I wish you were here that I might give - you a good squeeze and hear you call out, ‘O Fred! you are - cur-r-rushing me!’ I’ll play the bear in the matter of hugs, - when I do get you back,--that is certain. By the way, there’s - a mean chap leading a poor, old, black bear about the streets - here, making him dance, and scrape a fiddle, and other jigs - of that kind. It is not a bit of fun to see the poor, poky, - old thing perform, and he must have been beaten ever so much - before he could be taught. You can see that by the way he is - frightened when his master lifts his stick. It’s a mean shame, - so it is. Don’t you say so, Mag? - - “What jolly times you are having! so are we for the matter of - that. Uncle Ruthven is a regular brick,--though I always knew - that,--and so are grandmamma and the colonel, and all the rest. - School breaks up the twentieth of June, and then, hurrah! for - the country. Uncle John has invited Tom Norris to go with us to - Riverside, and stay all the time that we stay. First-rate in - him, wasn’t it? Tom is the jolliest good boy I ever saw: you - never catch him in the least thing that isn’t just up to the - right, and yet he’s the best company and merriest fellow in - the world. He keeps me out of a heap of mischief, many a time, - dear, old chap! that’s so, I know. Dear, old, steady-going Hal! - he often wonders at my tantrums, I know; but he’s good too, and - it is awful hard work to keep out of scrapes in school when - you’ve a quick temper like mine, and not too much thought. I’ll - tell you a secret, Mag: I believe it has helped me a good deal - to see you and Queen Bess take so much pains to cure yourselves - of those two very faults,--you, with your carelessness, and - Bessie, with her passionate temper. I thought it was a shame - if you two little girls did it, that a great fellow like me - shouldn’t. And for that reason I’m going to let you tell dear - mamma some thing that will make her dear eyes dance. Mr. Peters - called me to him this morning,--and I thought for sure I must - be in some row, though I didn’t see what,--and he said he - wanted to tell me that no boy in the school had improved in - character, or taken so much pains with his faults, as I had - during the last year. I don’t want to be puffed up, but didn’t - I feel some pumpkins; but I could most have cried that mamma - wasn’t home for me to tell the good news to. However, when I - went home, there sat grandmamma, the dear, precious, old soul, - so sweet and good and loving; so I just pitched into her and - gave her the news, and a tight squeeze into the bargain. She - was as pleased as could be, but then she isn’t mamma; so just - you tell the darling mother, and bid her shut her eyes, and do - you give her a good choke for me, just as I do, Ducky-Daddles! - and see if she don’t gasp out, ‘Oh, my dear boy!’ and you write - it to me, Mag. And tell papa, Mr. Peters told me if I turned - out such a man as my father,--a true Christian, a perfect - gentleman, and a thorough scholar,--no one could ask more for - me. I never expect to be all that, but it’s something to have - one’s father spoken of that way, and, Mag, do you believe, I - just bawled. And old Peters--I’ll never call him that again if - I remember, only it comes so handy--asked me to go of a little - errand for him. I knew that it was just that he knew I didn’t - want to go back to the school-room with red eyes, and I was - all right again before I came back. He’s a jolly old soul, if - he is strict. But I just tell you, you and her royal highness - can take some of the credit to yourselves; for I know you have - helped me without meaning it. And Uncle Ruthven is as pleased - as any thing, and he said he had seen it himself, and he had - meant to give me a handsome pony for taking pains with myself; - but as papa had given me one when he gave Hal a watch just - before you went away, he would let me say what the present - should be. - - “And so, Midget, I told him I should like him to give you and - Bess the pony between you; and he said I had better take a - couple of days to think it over, and he would give me leave to - change my mind. I suppose he thinks I’ll slink out of it; but - I shan’t, so you two may just count on a pony of your own. I - guess there’ll be a side-saddle too, for Uncle Ruth don’t do - things by halves. I’m awfully sleepy, and anybody but you would - be tired of this long letter. - - “Your loving brother, - - “FREDERICK TALBOT BRADFORD, ESQ.” - -Maggie answered her Uncle Ruthven’s letter the very next morning in -these words:-- - - “DEAR UNCLE RUTHVEN,--Whenever I think of the pleasure of - writing to my absent friends who are away from me in distant - lands I am always very thankful that I am not a quadrewped or - other animal which has only legs and no arms to write with. And - if it had, no brains or ideas, but only instinct which is not - enough to write with. So I thank God He gave me a sencible soul - which thinks, and arms and also pen, ink, and paper. And also - pencils for Bessie has to print with them, and also friends - which we can write to, for if I was an orfun and had no friends - I would be badly of and very lonesome and my ideas of no use. - So I think every one ought to be very grateful for these things - (if they have them) and if they have not let them say God knows - best; and I think it is the duty of the human race to make use - of these things and to write long letters to all their friends, - for it is such a pleasure to have letters and to answer them. - And I am going to write you the longest letter I ever wrote in - my life, because the Bible says, ‘Whatsoever ye would that men - should do unto you, do ye also unto them.’ - - “But, dear Uncle Ruthven, we have had no adventures to tell you - about. I mean _real real_ adventures; except only one which - was most terrible to hear and was that Bessie met a snake that - was poisonous and nearly bit her, but a good dog of Mr. Powrs - would not let her go on, and so she did not come in the way - of the snake which was a wonderful blessing or she might have - died. And then I would have been like the king Miss Ashton - told us about, whose son was drowned and he never smiled again - nor would I if my Bessie came to such a sad end but would be - unhappy all the days of my existence and never laugh at the - funniest thing that could happen. And I pray our Father in - Heaven that my Bessie will not die while I am alive even to - go to Heaven for I would miss her so very, very much. But I - will not write any more of this most unhappy thing or else my - beloved uncle you will say ‘what a sad, stupid letter Maggie - has written to me,’ and I would not wish any one to take the - liberty of saying such a thing about me. - - “Belle’s home which is named Oakdale is a place most beautiful - to behold with such large oak trees that make the most pleasant - of shades and magnolias and vines of jessamine and other sweet - smells most delicious to the nose. I do wish there was a nicer - name to call a nose, it don’t sound nice in a letter. And - such lots and heaps of rice, enough for a million dinner and - breakfasts I should think but I hope I shall never be in the - necessity to eat it for I hate rice. But Bessie likes it very - much so I am glad it grows for her and others. And we had such - fun playing with it and working too for we helped the men a - great deal. Now you need not laugh Uncle Ruthven nor the boys - either if you let them read this letter, for the men said we - did and if you had seen the great bag we filled you would know - it. It was real funny to see the rice run down the wooden - gutters into the hoppers. Isn’t that a queer name? - - “Papa said such a funny thing. He said he knew a hopper that - would not be of much use in that mill because it always shut - its mouth whenever any rice came near it, and he meant me. It - made us all laugh so. The next day after to-morrow we are going - to take adieu of Savannah and all the kind people we have come - to know; and of Miss Adams and the doctor; and most of all of - Mr. and Mrs. Norris and Lily. Lily cries about it and wants to - stay with us but her parents have to stay in this place for a - short time and to go home by the steamer, and I am glad and - thankful such is not my fate to be seasick again. Oh! Uncle - Ruthven! it is awful! and you can’t help it if you make up your - mind ever so much. But we go by land which is much better than - the sea to travel on and shall visit many places and see many - surprising things which I shall advertise you of when I know - them myself. - - “Bessie and I think we never heard of any thing so kind and - generous as Fred to say he wanted you to give us a pony for - his present and never no never again will I say Fred teases, no - not if he plages me ever so much. But I think he does not plage - so much as he used to. Mamma was so pleased about him and is - at this present moment writing to him. It is a very charming - thing to have sencible and religious parents and I suppose also - it must be so for the parents to have their children improve - and be as sencible and good as is in their natures. But it is - not in mine to be so good as Bessie and I despair of it for it - is not in me. The other day a lady was talking to Bessie and - I heard her say afterwards, ‘That child is a little angel.’ I - suppose she meant _like_ an angel which would be far better for - her to say as it is always best to say just what you mean but I - thank her for the complement to my Bessie and think she must be - a woman of sense. - - “Harry wrote to Mamma and said something that hurt my feelings. - He said I wrote very nice letters but they were so full of - moral reflextions and centiment that he almost killed himself - laughing. Now I know he didn’t almost kill himself and Miss - Ashton never taught us reflextions and centiment and I don’t - know what they mean and I wouldn’t do such a thing as to put - them in my letters. I don’t think Harry is very kind to say - that and make fun of me. But don’t you tell any one I said so - for you know I tell you all my secrets dear Uncle Ruthven and - maybe Harry would think I was cross. - - “Please give my love to every body I know if I do love them and - if I don’t my complements and most of all to all my own people. - It took me two days to write all this letter which I hope will - give satisfaction from your affectionate beloved - - “MAGGIE.” - -Last of all here is a little letter which Bessie wrote to her -grandmamma,-- - - “DEAR DARLING GRANMAMMA,--Your Bessie is going to send a - letter to you to tell you how I love you but I cant rite such - nice leters as Maggie. Dont Maggie make nice leters and she - said she would help me but I toled her I wanted to make it - all myself so you would kno how much I love you. Please dear - Granmamma to rite me an answer to my leter and I hope you will - keep alife till we come home or if you are not dear Manma will - cry and all the rest of us two. I saw a carf in a cart with all - its legs tied and it mad me sorry and I wish it was mine to let - it luse. Baby is so sweet and she has a new trik that is so - cuning. All the time she pulls off her shoes and soks and Mamma - don’t want her to so Nursey says shame shame when she does it - and when baby sees any one else do it now she always calls - shame and she saw a gentelman in the parlor who did not kno how - to be very polite and he sat with his slipper hanging on his - toe and Baby pointed her finger at him and called out very loud - Oh shame shame and every boddy lafed it was so funny. Every - day I am more and more glad for dear Manma feels so much better - and it makes such a joy in my hart that I can’t tell it but you - kno it don’t you dear Granmanma for you are her own mother and - you love her just like she loves me. I am too tired to make it - any longer and I love you and my solger and all my peple and I - send them kisses. - - “Good by dear Granmanma - - “Your little pet - - “BESSIE.” - - - - -VII. - -_A “REAL, REAL ADVENTURE.”_ - - -They were all in the railway train bound for ----; that is, Mr. and -Mrs. Bradford, with their three little girls and nurse, Mr. Powers, -Belle, and old Daphne. - -Maggie, Bessie, and Belle, with their dolls, had two whole seats to -themselves, one having been turned so as to face the other, and give -them what Bessie called a “nice, cunning travelling-house.” Here they -had established themselves in great comfort, papa and mamma being just -behind; while Mr. Powers, and the two nurses with Baby, were seated on -the opposite side of the car. - -And here, by and by, seeing the nice play that was going on, did Miss -Baby think it best to betake herself and her own doll, named Peter -Bartholomew. This gentleman with the long name, which had been given -to him by Fred, was made entirely of worsted, face, cap, coat, and -pants, all knit of the brightest colors, and could be knocked about or -thrown from any height without damage to his head or limbs. So for this -reason he had come travelling with Baby Annie, as her dolls were apt to -receive some hard knocks and severe falls, not altogether wholesome for -more brittle materials. - -But Annie was not very fond of Peter Bartholomew, and he received -some pretty hard usage at her tiny hands; so that it was well he was -not a gentleman of tender feelings, and was able to take thumps, hard -squeezes, and scoldings with the utmost composure. - -However, on this occasion she thought it wise to praise Peter -Bartholomew, by way of persuading her sisters that his company, as well -as her own, was desirable; and, putting her little head on one side in -the most insinuating manner, she spoke thus from nurse’s lap,-- - -“Baby tome too. Peter tome too. Baby dood. Peter dood. Nice Peter. Oh, -pitty Peter!” - -“Oh! isn’t she too cunning, the darling?” said Bessie. “Let’s let her -come play with us.” - -“Yes, we’ll take her in our house,” said Belle. - -So baby was taken into the enclosure, which Maggie had made quite -complete by fastening a handkerchief from the arm of one seat to that -of the other, and calling it “the door.” Nurse could have lifted baby -at once into the place which was offered for her; but that would not do -at all. Baby must wait till the door was untied, and she admitted in -due form. - -Once there, and seated in a snug corner, she behaved herself very well -for a long time, watching her little sisters and Belle with grave -admiration and wonder, and submitting to be played and “_pretended_” -with just as they chose, only now and then insisting that they should -all “tiss Peter,” a thing which she would by no means be induced to do -herself. - -But at last she took it into her head to look out of the window, and in -order to do that she must stand upon her feet, which was not safe to -let her do without some careful hand to guard her; and as she objected -very decidedly to returning to the other side of the car where nurse -sat, there was nothing for it but to let nurse come to her. - -Now this interfered very much with the arrangements of the three little -girls, who were having a grand “family” play; and not one of them was -at all inclined to be so disturbed, and there was even some pouting -when nurse said they must make room for her for a short time. - -But Maggie, Bessie, and Belle could all understand better than Baby -Annie, that in travelling one must consider the comfort and convenience -of one’s fellow-passengers, as well as one’s own. Baby was very little, -and not very well: they had a long day’s journey before them, and it -was necessary that she should be indulged in a measure, and kept in a -good humor as long as possible; and Bessie was the first to think of -this. - -“Now, just let me in here for a bit, my honeys,” said nurse, as Maggie -stood with her hand on the pocket-handkerchief door, determined to -defend her “house” as long as possible. “Baby’ll fret if I take her to -the other side when she don’t like it, and that will worry your mother; -besides it’s sunny there when we come out of the woods. Let her look -out of your window awhile, with me to hold her, and it will soon be her -sleepy time, when ye may have your place to yourselves.” - -Now old nurse was by no means a small woman; and the children knew -that their quarters would be very much narrowed when she should find -entrance there, and she might have found it hard work to persuade them -to yield without interference from their father or mother, had not -Bessie bethought herself when nurse spoke of her mother. - -“Oh, yes!” she said to her sister and Belle, “you know we came on our -travels to do mamma good, and so we mustn’t let any thing trouble her. -If we do, maybe our Father would think we didn’t care very much that He -made her better, and that we are ungrateful. Any thing must be choosed -’cept to worry mamma. And baby don’t know any better; so let’s give up -to her this time, if she cries everybody will be uncomf’able.” - -“Well,” said Maggie, once more untying the handkerchief, “I won’t be -selfish.” - -“Nor I,” said Belle, who had been the most unwilling to give up her own -way. - -The “cunning house” was certainly far less roomy when Mammy was seated -therein; but having made up their minds to do a kind act, our little -girls did it pleasantly and made no fussing about it; the only thing -that was said being when Bessie remarked,-- - -“Nursey, it would be rather convenienter if you were not _quite_ so -fat,” which nurse thought a great joke, and laughed heartily, saying,-- - -“And there’s nobody knows that better than your old Mammy, my pet; but -just put by your play till baby’s had her fill of looking out, and I’ll -tell ye a story.” - -Nurse’s stories always found a market; and the three little girls -ranged themselves in the seat facing her, and listened eagerly while -she told them the most marvellous of fairy tales. - -Meanwhile, Baby Annie, happy and contented, amused herself with -watching the swiftly passing objects; and Peter Bartholomew, held by -one foot, hung dangling head downwards from the car window. How much he -enjoyed this novel mode of riding, neither he nor his little mistress -ever told, though baby had enough to say both to herself and him while -nurse talked to the other children. - -But at last Mrs. Bradford suddenly exclaimed,-- - -“Take care, nurse; baby has her head out!” and Mammy, who had turned -her face for a moment from her charge, drew her in and seated her on -her lap. - -“Baby must not put her head out,” said mamma: “she’ll be hurt.” - -“Peter out,” said baby. - -“Why! she’s lost Peter Barfolomew,” said Belle. - -“Sure enough,” said nurse, when she had shaken out her skirts, and -looked on the floor, without finding that gentleman. - -“Bad Peter. Peter all don,” chuckled the baby. - -“Did ye throw Peter out?” asked Mammy. - -Baby could not say yes; but she nodded her little head till it seemed -as if she would wag it off, seeming to think she had done something -very praiseworthy. - -“Oh, you naughty girl!” said nurse. - -“No, no: baby dood; bad Peter. Peter all don, Peter out,” said baby -again, clapping her hands, and laughing with the most self-satisfied -air. - -Yes, Peter Bartholomew was “all gone,” left far behind as the train -sped on its way; and though the children went off into merry peals of -laughter at little Annie’s bit of mischief, Mrs. Bradford was rather -sorry, since Aunt Patty had taken such pains to make him for her. -However, the baby knew no better, and his loss could not trouble her -much. - -Nurse had not finished her story, and when the children’s mirth had -subsided, she went on with it. Having disposed of Peter Bartholomew, -and finding that she was not allowed to put her head out, the window -lost its charms for baby, and she sat still on nurse’s lap for a few -moments, gravely regarding her fellow-passengers, and trying to find -amusement in them. - -Nor was it long before she found a new object of interest. In the seat -next to Mammy and herself, and of course with his back towards them as -they rode backwards, was a gentleman who wore an enormous Panama straw -hat. The older children had remarked this hat and wondered at it, but -after the first moment they forgot both the hat and its wearer, and -noticed them no more. But I cannot say that the gentleman had not -noticed them, although he gave no sign of doing so. - -The hat by no means took baby’s fancy: perhaps she thought it took up -more than its share of room in the world; however that may be, she -concluded to take a closer look at it, and raised herself upon her -little feet on the cushioned seat beside Mammy. First she looked at -the hat on one side, then on the other; then she peeped under it; then -tried to lift herself on the tips of her small toes and peer over it; -then carefully touched it with one little finger, and finally expressed -her opinion in a loud, emphatic, - -“Bad hat!” - -But the owner of the offending article of dress did not turn his head -or appear to take the slightest notice, not even when baby repeated,-- - -“Bad, bad hat! Off hat!” - -“Sh! sh! my lamb. What’s come to ye to-day?” said nurse. - -Not the spirit of a lamb certainly, for baby was in a contrary mood, -and determined to have her own way by one means or another; and, -finding the hat remained in its place in spite of her orders, she -seized hold of it; and, before nurse could stop her, had snatched it -from the stranger’s head and tossed it into his lap. Still, without -turning his head or seeming at all disturbed, the gentleman put it -on again, while baby struggled to free herself from nurse’s hold, -shouting,-- - -“Off hat, off! Bad hat!” again and again, till her mother was obliged -to call her to order. - -Little as she was, baby had learned to obey when mamma spoke; but the -sight of that hat was not to be endured by any baby of taste, and even -when seated upon mamma’s lap, and treated to a bit of sponge-cake and -papa’s watch, she could not forget it, but now and then broke forth in -a wailing tone with,-- - -“Oh dear! Bad hat, off hat!” till at last the gentleman removed the -hat, and submitted to ride bareheaded till his little tormentor should -be asleep. - -This was soon the case when the cause of her trouble was out of sight; -for it was, as nurse said, “her sleepy time,”--one reason perhaps why -she was so fractious,--and she forgot hat, watch, and cake in a sound -mid-day nap. - -Her two sisters and Belle thought all this remarkably funny, and had -had much ado to stifle their laughter, so that it should not reach the -ears of the stranger with whom baby had made so free. But in spite -of their amusement, which had been shared by more than one of the -grown people around, Bessie was rather troubled lest mamma should be -worried by the little thing’s misbehavior and crying, and also lest the -gentleman should have been vexed. - -To tell the truth, he was rather annoyed at the notice which all this -had brought upon him and his unfortunate hat; but his vexation passed -away the moment he heard a soft voice at his ear, whispering,-- - -“Thank you very much, sir, for taking off your hat; and will you please -to s’cuse baby, she don’t know any better than to take a liberty. As -soon as she can understand, mamma will teach her to be polite.” - -The gentleman turned his face towards her. A pleasant, good-natured -face it was, with a merry twinkle in the eyes just now. - -“Mamma is a first-rate teacher of politeness and some other good -things, I see,” he said, smiling. - -“Yes, sir; ’deed she is,” answered Bessie; wondering what mamma had -said or done since they had been in the cars by which this stranger -could know so much; and then, thinking her duty done, she turned away -and began her play with the other children again. After this, all went -smoothly and quietly enough till they reached a town where they were to -change cars, and where two different railroads crossed one another at -the depot. Here they had to wait for an hour until their train should -be ready to start; and here Mrs. Bradford thought she might have a -good rest after her long ride. - -But a fair was going on in the small town, and the dirty little hotel -was full to overflowing; so that the only place that could be had for -Mrs. Bradford and her sleeping baby was an eight feet square room with -a hard sofa, and two equally uninviting chairs. However, by means of -cloaks and shawls, a tolerably comfortable resting-place was arranged -for these two; and the three children who had no mind to be shut up in -the tiny room, were taken for a walk by Mr. Bradford and Daphne; Mr. -Powers going to call on an old friend who lived near by. - -But there was a good deal of noise, dust, and confusion in the street, -and the little girls soon tired of it and wanted to go back to the -hotel. When they reached it, two trains were standing at the station, -and Daphne exclaimed, pointing to the nearest,-- - -“Dere’s de train, Massa Bradford. S’posin’ I jis takes de little ladies -into de cars. Better for dem waitin’ dere dan in de verandy where all -dem folks is; an’ we’ll wake Miss Baby for sure all goin’ into dat -little room.” - -This last was more than likely; and the veranda where all those men -were lounging about, smoking and drinking and swearing, was certainly -no place for little ladies; and Daphne’s idea seemed a good one to Mr. -Bradford. - -“You are sure that is our train, Daphne?” he asked. - -“Sure, Massa Bradford. Ain’t I been in it a hundred times?” - -“Is this the train for ----?” asked Mr. Bradford of a man standing -beside the cars. - -“All right, sir. Last car, sir,” was the reply. - -Mr. Bradford thinking himself quite sure, helped the children and -Daphne into the car, found them good places, and looking at his watch, -said,-- - -“We have half an hour still. Keep these seats for the rest of our -party, and I will bring them all soon. You are right, Daphne: it is -more comfortable here than in the hotel.” - -Then he went away; and for a few moments the children were well amused, -watching all the bustle around the station, and now and then dipping -rosy little fingers into a basket of delicious strawberries just given -to Daphne by a friend whom she had met. The old woman’s pleasure in the -splendid fruit, was to see her young mistress and her little friends -enjoy it, and she encouraged them to eat as long as they would. - -But presently a steam whistle sounded, and she looked about her -uneasily, saying,-- - -“’Pears like this train ain’t maybe right, after all. I go see ’bout -him, Miss Belle. Jes you sit still one minute.” - -[Illustration: Bessie’s Travels. p. 172.] - -If Daphne had not been so engaged in feeding her young charge, she -would have known that this was the second time the whistle had sounded; -and she was terribly startled when just as she set her foot upon the -ground in order to seek Mr. Bradford and make all sure, it was blown -again, there was a call of “all aboard,” and before the bewildered old -woman had collected her senses, the train steamed out of the station. -Had she instantly made known her trouble to those about her, it might -not even then have been too late; but instead of that she rushed after -the cars, gesticulating and beckoning with an umbrella which was the -pride of her heart, and which she always carried, and crying aloud,-- - -“Hi there! Hi! Hold on dem cars; hold on till I get my chillen. Hi! Hi!” - -The people about thought her crazy, and laughed and cheered as she tore -after the fast receding train; but to poor old Daphne it was no joke, -and as it turned a curve in the road and was lost to sight, she dropped -her umbrella and stood still wringing her hands, and crying,-- - -“Oh, de chillen, de chillen! Oh, my little Miss Belle! what I gone and -done, and what dey faders say?” - -But we must leave Daphne, and go in the cars with our three little -girls. - -For the first few moments they did not understand it, and even after -the cars were in rapid motion, looked about them expecting to see their -parents and nurses come in. The truth came first to Maggie, and her -poor little heart almost stood still with terror and dismay. - -“Why, we’re going!” exclaimed Belle. “Where’s papa?” - -“And papa and mamma, and all our people?” cried Bessie in a terrified -voice. - -Then Maggie broke forth. - -“Oh, we’re gone off with! They’re left behind! What shall we do? Oh! -what shall we do? There’s nobody to take care of us: we’re gone off -with.” - -Belle immediately set up the most violent screams; and Maggie and -Bessie were as much distressed, though they did not cry as loudly. - -The people around them soon understood the cause of their trouble: -indeed Maggie’s exclamations left no room for doubt, that they were -really “gone off with;” though it was some time before either of the -three could speak coherently enough to say how it had happened. In fact -the poor little things hardly knew themselves: all they could tell was -that Daphne had thought they were in the wrong train, had gone to see, -and before she came back they were speeding away, they knew not where, -without their natural protectors, and in the midst of perfect strangers. - -Bessie was the first to collect herself enough to make the story -understood, though even then, her tears would hardly let her speak to -the group of curious and sympathizing people, who gathered around the -three as they clung weeping together. - -“And now we’re quite, quite lost; and there’s no policeman to help us,” -she sobbed; “and what will mamma do?” - -“Poor little dears,” said a lady, pressing forward, and laying her hand -soothingly on the little, pitiful, upturned face. “Don’t cry so, my -children: you’ll be taken back in some way to your parents.” - -“I’m all papa has,” gasped Belle: “he can’t do wifout me.” - -“Please let us get out,” moaned Maggie: “we could run back to where our -papa and mamma are.” - -“The train must be put back,” said one of the by-standers, and he went -to find the conductor, and see what could be done; while the lady who -had spoken to the children sat down beside them and tried to quiet them -with assurances that their parents would certainly find them again. - -“But dear mamma will be so frightened and worried, and it’s so bad for -her,” said Bessie; her first thought always that tender care for her -mother. - -The story had spread through the train; and people were coming in -from the other cars to look at the three little waifs, who, all by -themselves, were each instant being taken farther from their friends; -and Belle, looking up as the door was opened afresh, spied a familiar -object. - -“Oh! there’s the ‘bad hat’ man!” she cried, glad to see any thing on -which she had ever laid her eyes before, even though it might be that -ugly hat with the strange face beneath it. - -At the same moment there came in also the conductor, and the gentleman -who had gone to find him; and now the children felt a faint hope that -there might be some way out of this trouble. - -But the conductor was surly, and absolutely refused to put back,--which -indeed would have been hardly safe,--or to stop the train and let out -the children, as was proposed by some person, and pleaded for by the -little ones themselves. - -And here the “bad hat” man put in his word. - -“That would never do,” he said; “those little things could not -possibly walk back to ----, and no conveyance could be found along -here. They must come on to the next station, and there we will see what -can be done.” - -Down went the three heads and up went Belle’s voice again at these -unwelcome words; but the “bad hat” had a kind heart beneath it, and the -wearer at once set himself to comfort the forlorn children. - -“Come, come, take heart,” he said cheerily. “Now let us see how soon -we shall get back to papa and mamma. It will not take us more than one -hour or so, to reach the next station, and then--well, to be sure, -we’ll have to wait awhile there for the up-train,”--he did not think -it best to say it would be more than four hours,--“but we’ll telegraph -them and let them know you are all safe, and will be with them before -long.” - -“Do you know the children sir?” asked a lady. - -“Well, no, madam, and they don’t know me; but they know my _hat_ pretty -well, and I think that is ground for an acquaintance. It’s a broad one, -anyhow, is it not?” he said with a nod at Belle, “and we’re going to -take advantage of it.” - -“It’s a great while for poor mamma to wait for us, and she’ll be very -frightened,” said Bessie, wiping the tears from her eyes, though they -were immediately filled again. “I s’pose she’ll think we’re never -coming back to her.” - -“Not a bit of it,” said “Bad Hat:” “she’ll think you’ll find some one -to look after you and bring you back; and how delighted she’ll be to -see you safe after such an adventure.” - -At this last word all the children pricked up their ears, especially -Maggie. She, being the most timid of the three, had been the most -broken down by terror, and had, until now, remained in the very depths -of despair. But it was really almost a consolation to hear this called -“an adventure,” and to remember that here was a subject for the most -interesting of letters, provided they ever again reached home and -friends, and had the opportunity of writing such. She was still rather -doubtful how this was to be brought about, in spite of Mr. “Bad Hat’s” -assurances. - -“Why! so it is an adventure,” said Bessie; “and Maggie said she wished -we’d have some great adventure, but she didn’t mean this kind of a one; -did you, Maggie?” - -“No, _indeed_ I didn’t,” sobbed Maggie. - -“But you can write a letter about it,” said Belle, catching her breath -between almost every two words; “and it will be so interesting: all the -people you know will want to read it.” - -Belle, as well as Bessie, had the greatest admiration for Maggie’s -letters, and thought them the most marvellous works of genius. - -“Of course they will,” said the gentleman, whom our little strays were -already beginning to look upon as a friend. “And so, Maggie writes -letters, does she? I wish she would write one to me one of these days.” - -“But she don’t know your name,” said Bessie. - -“Well, perhaps she might find out. I am not ashamed of it. But I think -this little lady has found a name for me. When I came in the car I -heard her say, ‘There’s the bad hat man.’ Now suppose Maggie writes a -letter and directs it to the ‘bad hat man,’ do you think it would reach -me?” - -“Yes, I fink it would,” said Belle with emphasis, and eyeing the hat -with a look which seemed to add, “there’s no possibility of mistaking -that hat.” - -So, in pleasant, cheerful talk, the friendly stranger tried to beguile -the way, and help the little ones to bear their troubles; and he -partly succeeded, though now and then a heavy sigh, or a murmured “Are -we most at the next station?” or “Oh, mamma!” showed that they were -not forgotten. The other people, who had gathered round in pitying -sympathy, saw that they had fallen into good hands, and went back to -their seats, leaving them to his care. - -“But what shall we do now?” asked Maggie, in new alarm, as they at last -approached the longed-for station where they were to leave this train, -and at least feel that they were to be borne no farther from their -friends. “I don’t know about the streets.” - -Now it was rather a strange, but a very good thing that, timid as -Maggie was, she seldom lost her presence of mind; and, however -frightened she might be, could still think what was best to do for -herself and others. You will remember how she thought of her own sash -and Bessie’s, as a means for saving Aunt Bessie’s life when she fell -over the precipice at Chalecoo. So now feeling as if the care of Bessie -and Belle rather fell upon her, since she was the oldest of the three, -she tried to collect her thoughts and plan how she should act. But it -was all useless, this was such a new and untried place, and so many -dangers and difficulties seemed to beset her, that she could not see -her way out of them. But her fears were speedily set at rest. - -“Oh! you are only going to do as I tell you,” said their new friend. “I -shall see you safe in your parents’ hands.” - -“Will you, sir?” cried Maggie joyfully, and slipped her hand into his, -in her great relief. - -“Are you going to get out here?” asked Bessie, as the train slackened -its speed. - -“Yes: you did not think I would leave you to shift for yourselves?” - -“Do you live here?” asked Belle. - -“No: I live down in Florida,” was the answer. - -“And are you going to get out here just to take care of us?” asked -Bessie. - -He smiled and nodded assent. - -“You are very good, sir,” said Bessie. “Is it just as convenient as not -for you?” - -“Well, no,” he returned. “I cannot say it is; but then I heard a little -girl say, this morning, that ‘any thing was to be choosed before mamma -should be worried,’ so after that I think I must do all I can to -relieve mamma’s anxiety, and get you back to her as soon as possible.” - -So Bessie’s thoughtfulness and care for her dear mother was reaping its -own reward. - - - - -VIII. - -_OLD JOE._ - - -R Station was not much of a place. There were only about half a dozen -houses, as many barns, and one store, which was part of the little -station-house. And there was no telegraph; but when our little girls -and their protector left the train, another gentleman promised to send -a message to their parents from the next stopping-place. - -There was not much to entertain the children, even had they been in -a mood to be amused; and the hours dragged very wearily. The kind -gentleman would have taken them for a walk in the pleasant pine woods, -but they were so fearful lest they should miss the up train, which was -to carry them back to their mother and father, that they could not be -induced to lose sight of the railroad track. Maggie and Belle could -be persuaded to do nothing but sit on the low bank at the side of the -road, and look up and down the long line of rail for the train, which -was still so far away. Bessie, naturally more trusting and less timid -than the others, had more confidence in their new friend and what he -told her; but she would not leave her sister and Belle, and, moreover, -was too tired to do more than wait with what patience she might. So the -“bad hat” let them do as they would, furnishing them with some dinner, -for which they had little appetite, and telling them droll stories, -which could not draw forth more than faint smiles. But at last Bessie -found something to interest her. - -There was an old colored man working around the station, cutting -wood, drawing water, and so forth, and he cast many a pitying glance -toward the sorrowful little strangers. Nor did he content himself -with looking; for, having finished his work for the time, he walked -away into the woods, and soon came back with a large leaf full of -wood-strawberries, and a bunch of scarlet cardinal flowers and yellow -jasmine, which he offered to them. - -Bessie took them, and, after thanking him prettily, divided them with -Maggie and Belle; then, out of her own share, arranged a little bouquet -for Mr. Travers; for that, the “bad hat man” had said was his name. - -“How pale and tired you look, my little girl!” he said as she fastened -it in his button-hole: “suppose you lie down and take a sleep? It would -be well if the others would do it too.” - -They all thought they could not possibly do such a thing, “the train -might go by” while they were asleep; but when Mr. Travers proposed that -he should spread his railway rug under the shade of the pine-trees, -where they could not miss hearing the train, and said he would sit -beside them and wake them the moment it was near, Bessie and Belle -felt as if they should be glad to take advantage of his kindness. For -it was true that they were all three quite worn out with fatigue and -excitement. But Maggie was very decided in her refusal to take a nap, -saying that she “never went to sleep except at night, when it was no -use to stay awake, there was nothing to do.” - -But when the rug was spread beneath the trees, she took her seat -upon it with the others, leaning her back against a great pine, with -Bessie’s head in her lap. Belle, too, cuddled close up to her; and Mr. -Travers seated himself opposite, with his book. - -“I wish I had a story-book for you, Maggie,” he said. - -“It’s no matter, sir,” said Maggie, dolefully. “I’m not in good enough -spirits to read. I’d rather think about going back.” - -“Suppose you pass the time by composing that letter you are to send -home, telling of this adventure?” said the gentleman. “Here are a -pencil, and the back of a letter, if you’ll have them.” - -Maggie brightened considerably at this suggestion, and gratefully -accepted the kind offer. - -Bessie lay with her head in Maggie’s lap, drowsily thinking how -pleasant it would be to go to sleep in this nice place, if papa and -mamma and baby were only here too. It was so cool and quiet. No one -seemed to be stirring in the cottages or the small station; not a sound -was heard but the gentle whisper of the breeze in the tree-tops, the -chirp of the crickets, and the varied notes of a mocking-bird perched -not far from them. Then the spicy smell of the pines was so delicious -and balmy. - -Not a human being was to be seen but their own party, and the old negro -man, who now sat upon a wheelbarrow at a little distance, reading what -looked like a leaf or two from a book. He seemed to read very slowly -and with great pains, pointing his finger along from word to word, and -forming the words with his mouth, as people do who cannot read very -well; but he appeared to be very intent over it. - -“I wonder what he is reading,” said Bessie to herself, as she sleepily -watched him: “it looks like a piece out of an old torn book. Maybe it’s -a newspaper, and they have such a very little one this is such a very -little place, and there isn’t much to tell about. I shouldn’t think it -was very interesting here.” - -The last thing she saw before she went to sleep, was the old negro; -and the first on which her eyes opened was the white-haired man, still -sitting there, poring over his leaf, as if he had not moved from that -spot; and yet she felt as if she had taken quite a long, refreshing nap. - -She gently turned her head, and looked at her companions. Belle did -not appear to have moved, lying fast asleep with her cheek on Maggie’s -dress, and her hat over her eyes, just as she had lain down. Mr. -Travers sat with his back against a tree, his arms folded, his eyes -closed, and bareheaded. Bessie turned a little more, so that she could -see Maggie. - -Why! was it possible? Yes, surely: watchful Maggie was fast asleep -too. The pine-tree against which she leaned did not shoot up with a -straight, unbroken trunk, as they generally do, but was a kind of twin -tree, parting into two a foot above the ground, and forming a crook or -fork. In this fork was the “bad hat,” and on the “bad hat” lay Maggie’s -head, as peacefully as though it were the pillow of her own pretty -bed at home; and Maggie was as sound asleep as if it were that same -familiar pillow. One dimpled hand loosely held Mr. Travers’ pencil, and -the paper lay fluttering unheeded on the ground at her feet. Bessie -picked it up lest the breeze should blow it away, and Maggie’s precious -thoughts be lost. But it was evident that the letter had not made much -progress, for Bessie found only these words written:-- - - “OH, DEAR, DARLING UNCLE RUTHVEN,--Such a horrible, dreadful - adventure!” - -She would not disturb any of the others, but sat quiet a moment -watching them, then turned her eyes again towards the old negro. - -“I think I’ll go speak to him,” she said to herself. “He is a great -while reading his paper, and I s’pose he can’t make it out very well. -Maybe I could help him, and he was very kind to us.” - -She rose softly, and walked slowly towards the old man. He looked up -and smiled, saying,-- - -“Little Miss want for any ting ole Joe can do for her?” - -“No, thank you,” said Bessie, now feeling rather shy of asking him if -she could help him; then after a moment’s pause she added, “You were -reading when I went to sleep, and you are reading now.” - -“Yes, little Miss,” he answered, “Joe read most all de time when no -trains on hand and he work all done up.” - -“Is it a little newspaper?” asked Bessie. - -“A newspaper?” he answered, spreading the sheet on his knee, and -laying his hand reverently upon it. “Yes, Missy, a newspaper what habs -great news in it, de best news in de worl’,--de news how de Lord Jesus -come down to save sinners, and old Joe among ’em. Do little Miss know -dat news?” - -“Oh, yes!” said Bessie, simply. “I always knew it. I’m glad you think -it’s good news, Joe, then I know you love Him.” - -“Sure, Missy,” said Joe, “how I gwine for help love Him when I knows He -done such a ting for Joe?” - -Feeling on the instant a bond of sympathy between herself and the old -negro, Bessie slipped her soft little hand into his hard, black palm, -as she said,-- - -“But some people who know it don’t love Him.” - -Joe shook his head sorrowfully. - -“Yes, an’ I bery sorry for dem folks; but I bery glad for Joe, and for -little Miss too, for I ’spect she love Him by de way she speak, an’ I -know de Lord love her.” - -“Did you mean that was out of the Bible?” asked Bessie, looking at the -printed sheet which she now saw was torn, scorched, and soiled. - -“Yes,” answered Joe, triumphantly, “it out ob de Bible;” and he placed -it in Bessie’s hand. - -Yes, it was out of the Bible, two leaves: one containing the second -chapter of Luke, with the account of the Saviour’s birth; the other, -part of the fifteenth and the whole of the sixteenth of Mark, relating -his death and resurrection. - -“I hab de beginnin’ an’ de end,” said Joe, “an’ I hab some more too, -some ob my Lord’s own bressed words what He preach to His people;” and -he drew from his pocket a single leaf, containing most of the sixth -chapter of Matthew. - -“Is that all you have of the Bible?” asked Bessie. - -“Dat’s all, Missy, but dey’s a deal ob preciousness in it: dey’s words -what bears readin’ ober and ober. To be sure, dey’s times when I gets -longin’ for more; but I jes says, ‘Come now, old Joe, don’t be so -ongrateful. Ef de Lord had meant you to hab more He would ha’ sent it -you;’ and I tank Him for not lettin’ dis be burn up an’ for lettin’ me -fin’ it ’fore it was blowed away by de wind.” - -“Where did you find it, and how did it come so burnt and torn?” asked -Bessie. - -“Foun’ it ober by Miss Sims’ house. ’Spect she use it for her bakin’, -and when de bread done she trow it out, an’ de Lord He let old Joe fin’ -it. Bress His holy name.” - -“Do you mean she baked her bread on the leaves of the Bible?” asked -Bessie, exceedingly shocked. - -“’Pears like it, Missy. I ’spect she don’t know its wort’, poor -woman!” said Joe, with a pitying thought for the owner of the pretty, -comfortable cottage, who was so much poorer than himself. - -Bessie stood looking at him with a multitude of feelings struggling -for expression on her sweet, wistful, little face. Indignation at -the treatment received by God’s Holy Word; pity, respect, and tender -sympathy for the old negro,--were almost too much for her, and her -color rose, and the tears came to her eyes. - -“Little Miss feel so bad ’bout it as did old Joe,” he said, “but, -Missy, dat was de Lord’s way to help old Joe. Long time he ben wantin’ -a Bible an’ save up he money, and hab mos’ enough; an’ one day a poor -feller come along what hab no shoes an’ hab cut he foot awful, an’ he -mus’ go on to de city to see his chile what dyin’; an’ de Lord say -in my heart, ‘Joe, you gib dat money for shoes for dis poor feller,’ -an’ I couldn’t help it no way, Missy, an’ I buys him de shoes out de -store. An’ he ain’t gone but little time, an’ I walkin’ roun’ by Miss -Sims’ feelin’ down in de mout’ along ob my Bible; an’ a piece ob paper -come blowin’ to my feet, an’ I picks him up, an’ ain’t he a bit out my -Lord’s book, an’ I sarch roun’ an’ fin’ noder one. Praise de name ob de -Lord what sen’ Joe such comfort till he hab more money!” - -Bessie still stood silent, her heart too full for words at the simple -story of this old disciple’s self-sacrifice. And he had only these -three leaves out of God’s precious Book, while at home there were -Bibles without number for all who needed them. Oh! if she only had one -to give him. But here there was none,--yes, there was too. - -Just before they left home, grandmamma had given to each of the little -girls a Testament and Psalms bound together. She thought they might be -more convenient for daily use in travelling, than the handsomely bound -Bibles which they generally used at home; and if they should happen to -be lost would not be so much regretted. They had been carried in the -little satchels all the way; and now, as usual, Bessie’s satchel hung -by her side. The book was not large; but the print was good and clear, -far better than that on old Joe’s cherished leaf, and what a world of -riches it would hold for him. - -“I could give him mine,” thought Bessie, “and he would be so glad. I -don’t b’lieve grandmamma would mind if I gave away her present for such -a reason as this; and Maggie will let me use hers when I want to read. -I think I ought to give it to him, and I know I would like to.” - -“S’pose little miss kin read fus’ rate,” said Joe, interrupting her -thoughts. - -“Mamma says I can read very nicely,” she answered. - -“Maybe she wouldn’t min’ readin’ out a piece. Some words most too hard -for Joe, but he kin listen fus’ rate.” - -Bessie drew her satchel around, and unfastened it. - -“Shall I read you some out of my own little Testament?” she said, -drawing forth the book. - -Joe’s eyes brightened. - -“If Missy be so good,” he said, eagerly. “She hab it all dere: all how -de Lord Jesus lib an die, an lib again, an’ talk for his people?” - -“Yes,” said Bessie. “What would you like me to read?” - -“If Missy read where He say, ‘Let not your heart be trouble’; an’ how -He go to make a place for dose what follers Him.” - -Bessie found the fourteenth of John, and read it carefully and -distinctly, the old man listening intently. When she came to the -fourteenth verse, he raised his hand and said,-- - -“I t’ought so. I t’ought dere war a promise like dat. Now I know sure -some day He gib me a Bible, I allers do ax it in His name, an’ He -promise allers stan’ sure.” - -“Yes,” said Bessie, thoughtfully; then added, in a tone of some -self-reproach, “but, Joe, I forgot that promise once this morning.” - -“But Missy mind it now?” - -“Yes,” answered Bessie. “You see we had such a dreadful trouble, Joe, -and it’s not quite over yet. Somehow the cars took us away without papa -and mamma, and we didn’t know where we were going, and there was no -one to take care of us. It was worse than once when I was lost in New -York; cause that was my own country where I live, and the policemen -were there; and it seemed to me that even our Father couldn’t help us -in such a trouble as this. But in a minute I knew that was wrong, and I -asked Him to send us help: and right away he did; for a kind gentleman -came who we saw in the cars before, and he is taking care of us, and -will take us back to papa and mamma. That is the gentleman there by the -tree.” - -Joe nodded, as much as to say he knew, as indeed he did; for the story -of the little wayfarers had come to his ears. Little he thought when he -first heard it, what a blessing they had brought to him. - -“And, Joe,” continued the child, “I think maybe our Father had a -purpose in letting us be run away with, and bringing us to this place.” - -“Sure, Missy,” replied the old man. “He allers hab a purpose in what -He do, an’ a good one too; but sometimes we don’t see it, we ain’t -fait’ enough.” - -“But I think I do see it now,” said Bessie, her tiny fingers still -resting on the blessed words of Jesus’ promise. “I think He sent me -here, so I could bring you my little Testament.” - -“Yes, Missy. I ’spect He did, dat’s a fac’,” answered Joe, not taking -in at once that she meant to give him the book; “an’ dose words done -Joe a heap of good. Yes: He send you here for read ’em to Joe.” - -“But you don’t understand,” said Bessie. “I mean He sent me here to -_give_ you the Testament. I think He meant you to have it, you asked it -in His name. It isn’t all the Bible: but it has all about Jesus, and a -good deal besides, and the Psalms too; and you will love it very much, -won’t you?” - -“Missy don’t mean she gwine fur gib Joe her own book?” - -“Oh yes, I do,” answered Bessie. “I have another Bible at home, and -papa would give me as many as I want, and I can read my sister’s till -we go home. I am going to give it to you for your own, Joe.” - -The old man sat for a moment speechless with wonder and gratitude, then -covered his face with his hands. - -“I t’ank de Lord fust, and you next, Missy,” he said, when he removed -them. “I t’ank Him, and bress His name, fur sen’ his little white dove -to bring His word to ole black Joe. Yes, yes; for sure His promise -stan’ in all place an’ all time. Missy fin’ it, an’ Joe fin’ it: de ole -an’ de young, de black an’ de white, de rich an’ de poor,--all who lub -and trust Him. He hear all, an’ do for all.” - -He took the baby hand, and kissed it with a tender reverence that was -very touching to see, but which the child in her innocence scarcely -understood. - -“Shall I read some more?” she asked. - -Joe thankfully assented; and she finished the chapter, and read also -the fifteenth then, closing the book, placed it in the old black man’s -hand. - -“De Lord know what’s in my heart, but I can’t speak it out no way,” he -said, as he received it, drawing his rough coat-sleeve across his eyes; -“but, Missy, I t’ink it a great t’ing to be de Lord’s little messenger -to bring His word to his poor ole servant, what been thirstin’ for it -so long.” - -Belle had wakened while Bessie was reading, and sat up rather surprised -at her little friend’s occupation, but did not interrupt it. - -“It’s just like my dear Bessie,” she said to herself; “she’s always -doing somefin’ for somebody.” - -She looked about her as she listened to the reading; for every word -came distinctly in the deep stillness around. Maggie was asleep still, -and Mr. Travers’ eyes remained closed; but as Belle watched his face -she said to herself,-- - -“I guess he’s just pretending. If he was papa, I’d go and wake him up, -and tell him he is. Maybe he finks Bessie would be too bashful to read -before him if she fought he was awake.” - -Perhaps Belle was right; for Mr. Travers woke or seemed to wake very -suddenly when Bessie ceased reading; and, looking at his watch, said -that it was time for the train, and they must rouse the sleeping -Maggie. This was done; and Maggie woke rather indignant at herself for -going to sleep at all, and a little ashamed at finding all the others -awake before her. - -“Why! Did you put that there, sir?” she asked, as Mr. Travers picked up -the hat which had proved such a comfortable pillow, and put it on his -head. - -“Yes,” he answered, “I thought the tree rather a hard resting-place for -that little head in spite of the mass of curls which came between them, -so when I saw it going down I popped in the ‘bad hat’ without your -knowing it.” - -“I’m very much obliged to you, sir,” said Maggie. “I _wish_ I could do -something for you.” - -All the children were very grateful to this kind stranger who had -taken such good care of them, and Belle said,-- - -“I wish I could too. If I was big I’d ask you when your birfday -was; and I’d make you a pair of slippers, and a pin-cushion, and a -watch-case, and every fing nice for a birfday present.” - -“And I’d help,” said Maggie. - -“And I,” said Bessie. - -Here was ground for Maggie to build a new plan upon; and, in the few -minutes which passed before the train came, she had enough to think -about to keep her from feeling very impatient for its arrival. - -And there it came, rushing up the long line of rail,--yet hardly fast -enough for the little ones who had been so long away from their dear -friends,--hailed with clapping of hands, dancing steps, and glad -exclamations: never was a train more welcome. - -The place was alive in a moment. Women and children came out to the -doors and gates of the cottages, dogs barked, and hens cackled. Half a -dozen men, white and colored, seemed to spring out of the ground, ready -to busy themselves on the arrival of the cars; and old Joe drew up his -wheelbarrow to the side of the track, ready for any chance trunk or -box which might need to be wheeled away, and bring him a few pennies. -Joe was a rich man now, to be sure, rich in the wealth which should -pave with shining gold the path he must tread to the heavenly mansion -his Saviour had gone to prepare for him: but he must still have a care -for his few worldly needs; and now that his one great desire had been -granted, he would yet put by something that he might have a little to -help along such of his Lord’s work as should be given into his hand. - -His hand was shaken, not only by the three children, but also by Mr. -Travers; and they were gone: but their coming had brought light and -gladness to old Joe; and, in his own simple language, he “will nebber -disremember dis day while de Lord remembers me.” - -There they were,--mamma, and the two papas, baby, nurse, and -Daphne,--still at the station at ----, and watching as eagerly for the -train which was to bring back the sorely missed darlings, as those -same little darlings were looking for the first glimpse of the dearly -loved faces of their “own people.” What joy there was! What huggings -and kissings! some happy tears too; and as for Mr. Travers, if he had -had six arms to be shaken instead of two, they would all have been -in use at once. There was some time to spare before the arrival of -the train which was to carry them on the right route, which had been -missed that morning; and it would be still longer before kind Mr. -Travers would be able to proceed on the journey he had so generously -interrupted, at some inconvenience to himself, for the sake of the -little fellow-passengers who had so unconsciously attracted his notice -that morning. - -They gathered in the small room, which seemed large enough to hold -them all now, and Mr. Travers was thanked over and over again, his -address taken by Mr. Bradford, and a promise drawn from him that he -would make his house his home when he should come to New York. More -than this, Maggie privately drew from him the date of his “birfday,” -which happened to be on the twenty-fifth of December: and you may like -to know that this “plan” of Maggie’s was successfully carried out; -and, last Christmas, Mr. Travers received a box containing a pair of -slippers worked by Maggie, a pin-cushion by Bessie, and a watch-case -by Belle. I do not believe that Mr. Travers thought the less of them -because there were some crooked stitches in them,--especially in the -two last,--and that the pocket of the watch-case was so small that by -no possibility could a watch be squeezed therein. - -But he did not part from the children that day without some token -of remembrance, for when Maggie inquired about his birthday, and -repeated,-- - -“I would so like to do something for you, sir, you was so kind to us,” -he answered,-- - -“You can do something for me, Maggie. Give me your little Testament, -if you will; and when I look at it, it will bring back to me some very -sweet recollections of this day.” - -Dear Maggie, only too happy when she could give or do any thing which -brought pleasure to another, readily consented, thinking as Bessie had -done, that “grandmamma wouldn’t mind when she knew the reason;” and the -second little Testament went forth on its mission of love and life, in -the hands of a new owner. - -And pray what do you think had been that ungrateful baby’s greeting to -her little sisters’ new friend? Nothing less than that oft-repeated -“Oh, bad hat!” But being rested and at her ease now, she was not -fretful, and was more astonished than displeased at its reappearance. -We ought not to call her ungrateful either. She was glad to see her -sisters, and offered plenty of “love Maggies’” and “love Bessies’,” -which meant a tight squeeze of the little arms about the neck; but -she could not understand the distress and anxiety their absence had -occasioned on all sides, nor did she know what care had been bestowed -upon them by the owner of the hat. - -But Mr. Travers having taken off the hat and placed it beneath his -chair, Baby made the most of her opportunities, and, seating herself -on the carpet behind him, pulled it forth, and turned it over and -over on her lap. Finding on a closer acquaintance that it was not so -objectionable as she had thought it, she proceeded to try it on; and, -nothing daunted by the fact that she was nearly extinguished by it, -was, greatly to the amusement of all, presently discovered toddling -blindly about the room, with her small head and dimpled shoulders quite -hidden; while from beneath the hat came a muffled voice saying, in -lisping tones,-- - -“Nice hat! oh, nice hat! Baby on nice hat.” - -Bessie almost fell from her mother’s lap, and Belle from her father’s -knee, with laughing at this joke, and Maggie hopped around and squealed -in an ecstasy of fun and delight; and even the grown people could not -help laughing heartily at the little “turncoat,” as nurse called her -pet. - - - - -IX. - -_KATE._ - - -It would take too long to follow Maggie and Bessie through all their -travels, or to visit all the places visited by them, going from one -to another by easy stages, as best suited mamma; and staying a day -or two, or a week or two, according to the amount of interest and -pleasure they found in each. Charleston and Richmond, Virginia Springs, -the famous Natural Bridge, and many another spot, were described in -Maggie’s letters to her friends at home; but the place of which she -most delighted to write, because there she found the most to describe, -was Washington. Here is one of her letters from that city:-- - - “MY BELOVED UNCLE HORACE,--I think Washington is the most - interesting city I ever met with. It has so much to see and - buildings which are quite surprising and such a credit to - themselves and the people who built them that I am proud of - the nation to which I belong. But the most interesting place I - find is the _Pattern_ Office where are to be seen thousands and - thousands of things one can never be tired of looking at. There - are jewels and beautiful birds and butterflies, and very nasty - bugs and spiders and oh! Uncle Horace an awful spider so large - with his legs out he is as big as a dinner plate, I am thankful - I do not live in that country, for he bites too and the people - die, and I don’t see the use of spiders but I suppose some, or - God would not have made them. And there are machines but we - children did not care much for those and Indian things very - interesting and all kinds of curiosities and beautiful toys. - But the most interesting of all General Washington’s furniture - and his clothes. But his furniture was very shabby and I think - his grateful country ought to make him a present of some better - and his coat--why, Uncle Horace it was all ragged and if it - was not the father of his country’s I would say it looked like - an old beggar man’s. But please do not think I am a traitor - because I say this, for I would not be such a thing I hope, - nor a Benedict Arnold either, I shan’t call him Mr. for he - is not good enough, and I think he was the meanest man that - ever lived not to take his own punishment but to let poor Mr. - Andre be killed for him. And Bessie and I do think the father - of his country might have let Mr. Andre off that once if he - would promise never to do so again and we are afraid he forgot - that time that Jesus wanted us to forgive one another as He - forgave us. Papa says he had to make an example of Mr. Andre - but I think he would have been a better example himself if he - had showed mercy. And in the Pattern Office are some stufed - animals some very pretty and some ugly as is in the nature of - animals to be, for we all know they did not make themselves any - more than people who are some ugly and some very handsome and - they can’t help it. And so I don’t see why they have animals - for patterns for no man nor woman either could make an animal - but only God, but they are interesting to see though it must be - disagreeable to stuff them. - - “We saw the President and we are very much disappointed for he - looks just like another man, not a bit better, and we did not - expect it of him but thought he would be very grand and somehow - different. I don’t care a bit if I never see another President. - I think it is real mean. But he has a very grand house and he - lets people come in and see it which is very kind of him, for I - would not like people I did not know to come in my house, and - pass remarks about it; but Papa says Presidents and kings and - things of that kind have to do a great many things they do not - like very much, so I hope I will never be a President or his - wife either and if he asks me to marry him I will certainly - say no and Bessie will too. - - “There are a great many lovely toys in the Pattern Office but - I will not say I wish they were mine because I cannot have - them so it is of no use and it might be to break the tenth - commandment. Papa says they belong to the government, but I - don’t see what the government which is nothing but a lot of - big men wants of playthings, and I think they would be much - more use if children had them to take pleasure in them. If they - were mine I would give the largest share to my Bessie, and then - divide them with all my children friends and send some to the - little cripples’ hospital. - - “To-morrow Papa is going to take us to the Smithsonian - _Institude_ where they say are a great many curious and - wonderful things and lots of animals dead ones I mean from all - parts of the world. Which must be very instructif and if I do - not improve my advantages I ought to be ashamed of myself and - deserve to be a dunce. Mamma says it is time for us to go to - bed, which I wish it was not and I wish there was no such place - as bed but I do not tell dear Mamma so or she might think I - did not honor her and I hope I may never be such an unnatural - child. So good night dear Uncle Horace and Aunt May and May - Bessie the same from your devoted till death do us part friend - - “MAGGIE.” - -They did not stay long in Washington; for the weather was growing warm -and oppressive, and our party were anxious to hurry northward, where -it was cooler and pleasanter. We will not stop with them at Baltimore -or Philadelphia, where nothing particularly interesting occurred; or -even in their own city, where they stopped for a few days to rest and -have a sight of all the dear home-faces, as well as to leave all the -“curiosities and wonderful memories,” as Maggie called them, which they -had collected in their southern rambles: but start off with them once -more on their further journeyings. - -They had parted from Mr. Powers and Belle: but Uncle Ruthven and Aunt -Bessie had joined the party, adding much to the enjoyment of all; and -they were now on their way to beautiful Trenton and Niagara Falls. - -A young lady and two gentlemen were coming up the brass-covered -staircase of the steamboat which was carrying our friends up the river. - -“Hallo!” said one of the latter as some small object fell at his feet. -“What is this? Who is pelting me with flowers? No: it’s not a flower -either. What is it, Mary?” and he stooped and picked it up, turning it -round and round very gingerly, as if afraid it would fall to pieces in -his fingers. “Looks like a small edition of that thing on your head.” - -“Just what it is,” replied his sister. “It is a doll’s hat. Ah! there -is the little owner, I suppose,” and she looked up at Bessie who was -peeping over the banisters with watchful, earnest eyes, and holding -Margaret Colonel Horace in her arms. - -“Are you the young lady who has been pelting me with dolls’ hats, and -trying to make me think they were flowers?” asked the young man as he -came to the top of the stairs. - -“It is only one hat, and I didn’t try to make you think it was a -flower, and I didn’t pelt you with it, and I’m only a little girl,” -answered Bessie, demurely. “It fell off my dolly’s head; but I’m very -glad you came up just then, before any one stepped on it.” - -The gentleman put the hat on the forefinger of one hand, and twirled it -slowly round with the other, while Bessie looked on, rather aggravated. - -“Give it to her, George; aren’t you ashamed to tease her?” said the -young lady. - -“What will you give me for it?” asked he. - -“I’ll give you ‘thank you,’ sir,” replied the child. - -“Nothing else?” - -“No, sir, nothing else,” answered Bessie, with as much dignity as any -young lady could have worn. - -He felt the silent reproof of the child’s manner; and, ashamed of -having teased her, he handed her the little hat, saying, almost without -intending it,-- - -“I beg your pardon.” - -“I am very much obliged to you, sir,” she said, now smiling again. “I -was ’fraid it would be spoiled ’fore I could call some one to pick it -up.” - -“Why didn’t you run down, and pick it up yourself?” asked the young -lady. - -“I thought maybe mamma wouldn’t want me to,” said Bessie, putting on -her doll’s hat. “She told me on the Savannah steamer never to go up and -down the stairs alone; and I didn’t know if she would like me to here.” - -“Here’s a match for Kate’s paragon of obedience and -straightforwardness,” said the young lady, laughing as she turned to -the other gentleman who had not yet spoken. - -“What is your name, little lady?” he asked. - -Bessie looked up at him. Where had she seen that face before? Those -sparkling black eyes, the roguish curve of the lips, seemed very -familiar to her; and yet she was sure the gentleman was a stranger, as -the others were. - -But she had a fancy that these same strangers were making rather free -with her; and she put on her dignified air again as she answered -slowly,-- - -“Bessie Bradford, sir,” and turned away. But her steps were again -checked as she heard her last questioner exclaim,-- - -“Why, it is Kate’s pet! The paragon herself!” - -“Kate’s pet!” The old school-name so often given to her by the older -girls at Miss Ashton’s, and now uttered by the owner of the black eyes -which seemed so familiar, made it at once clear to her who it was. -Perhaps it was just as well that she did not know what paragon meant: -she only thought it rather an ugly-sounding name, and at another time -she might have been displeased and thought it was intended to tease -her; but, as it flashed upon her who he was, vexation was lost in -pleased surprise. - -“Oh!” she exclaimed, in the tone she sometimes used when she was both -gratified and astonished, and looking up at him with flushed and -sparkling face. - -“Well?” said the gentleman, laughing; as did both of his companions. - -“I just believe you are Katie’s brother,” cried the child. - -“That is an accusation I cannot deny,” he said, much amused. “Yes; I am -Charlie Maynard. But how did you know that?” - -“’Cause you look a great deal like her, sir,” answered Bessie; “and she -used to talk about you very often. She thinks you are very nice.” - -“That shows her good taste,” he said. - -“She is very, very nice herself,” said the little girl, no longer -feeling as if she were talking to a stranger; “and I am very fond of -her. But it is a great while since I have seen her. Will you please to -give her my love when you see her, sir?” - -“On one condition,” he answered; “that you come with me now and let me -show you something. Something I think you will like to see,” he added, -seeing that she hesitated. - -“I must ask mamma first,” she said. “She only gave me leave to wait -here until Uncle Ruthven and Maggie came up.” - -She ran to where her mother sat, and eagerly asked if she might go with -Katie Maynard’s brother to “see something.” Mamma gave permission; and, -putting her hand confidingly in that of her new acquaintance, Bessie -suffered him to lead her to the other side of the boat. - -Like what he had brought her to see! Bessie thought so indeed, when she -caught sight of the “something;” and Margaret Colonel Horace nearly -fell from her mamma’s arms as the latter sprang into those of Katie -Maynard herself. - -Kate was as much delighted and surprised as the child, and kissed -Bessie over and over again; while the loving little soul nestled close -to her, and looked up with eyes which left no need for words. - -Then Bessie had to be introduced to Katie’s father and mother, who -were with her; but her brother said there was no occasion for him to -go through with this ceremony, since he and Bessie had already made -acquaintance; and he took a good deal of credit to himself for having -guessed that the demure little damsel, who was so careful about obeying -her mamma, might be his sister’s favorite and pet, whose name he had so -often heard. The other lady and gentleman were friends of the Maynards, -and travelling with them; and the whole party were, like our friends, -bound for Niagara. - -“And where is the honey-bee?” asked Kate, who had heard Colonel Rush -call Maggie by that name, and from that time used it for her. “We’ll go -and bring her too.” - -But Maggie,--who had by this time come upstairs, having chosen to go -down with Uncle Ruthven to buy some papers and “see what she could see” -below, while Bessie preferred to wait above,--Maggie was by no means to -be persuaded to join a party consisting of so many strangers. So Kate, -who was really rejoiced to see her little schoolmates, and wanted to -talk to both, must needs accept Bessie’s invitation, and stay with them -for a while. - -“For you know you’re not a bit troubled with bashfulness,” said Bessie, -innocently; “and poor Maggie is;” a speech which made Kate’s friends -smile, and Kate herself laugh outright. - -But Bessie was mistaken; for Kate, in spite of her laugh, was for once -“a bit troubled with bashfulness” before Mrs. Bradford. For she had a -little feeling of consciousness in the presence of Bessie’s mother, -which rose from the recollection of the affair of the clock at school, -and the knowledge that Mrs. Bradford had heard of it. Mrs. Ashton had -told Kate that she had thought it only right to tell Mrs. Bradford -of Bessie’s trial, and her steadfast resistance to temptation; and -Kate, who had not seen Mrs. Bradford since the day of the giving of -the prizes, felt a little doubtful how she would be received. But the -lady’s kind and friendly greeting soon put the young girl at her ease, -and she felt there was no need for any feeling of embarrassment now -that her own conscience was at rest. She had a pleasant talk with the -little girls, hearing of their travels and adventures, and telling them -in return of all that had taken place at school after they left. - -The acquaintance between the young folks brought about one between -their elders, which gave much pleasure all around; and, during the next -two or three weeks, the two parties saw a good deal of one another. - -The children took a great fancy to the younger Mr. Maynard, Kate’s -brother, as he did to them; and even Maggie was quite friendly with -him from the time that he came and took his place near his sister, -as she sat a little apart with Bessie on her lap, and Maggie close -beside her, talking of all that had happened since they parted. He -was very much amused with Bessie’s quaint ways and sayings, and with -Maggie’s glowing descriptions of all they had seen and done during -their travels; but he did not let his amusement appear, and they talked -away without restraint before him. Now and then he would join in the -conversation, putting a question, or making a remark, as though he were -interested in what they were saying, but not so as to embarrass them at -all; and he was so kind and pleasant in his manner to them, that they -both speedily honored him with their “approval,” and a place in the -ranks of their friends. - -Not so with Mr. Temple, Charlie Maynard’s companion. When, after a -time, he sauntered up and joined the group, he soon put a check upon -the merry chatter of the little girls. Not intentionally, for he had -more to say to them, and asked more questions than Mr. Maynard himself: -but it was done with a tone and manner which they did not like; in -a half-mocking way, which irritated Bessie, and brought on a fit of -shyness with Maggie. Indeed, the latter would not stand it long, but -moved away to her mamma. - -“What is it, dear?” asked her mother, seeing that something had -disturbed her. - -“That hateful man, mamma,” said Maggie, lowering her voice that she -might not be heard by the object of her displeasure. - -“Do not call names, dear,” said her mother. “What has he done to you?” - -“He talks disagreeable nonsense, mamma.” - -“I thought you liked nonsense once in a while,” said Mr. Stanton. - -“Oh! it’s not nice, amusing nonsense like yours, Uncle Ruthven. He -talks compliments, and compliments he don’t mean either. He is horrid, -and very silly, too.” - -“Perhaps he thinks you like it,” said Mr. Stanton. - -“He has no business to think so,” said Maggie, waxing more indignant. -“We were having a very nice time with Miss Kate, and he made himself -a great interruption. He teased us about our dolls; and then he asked -us a great many ridiculous questions, and talked a great many foolish -things about Bessie’s eyes and my hair. If it was grown ladies he -talked to that way they would say he was impertinent, and I don’t see -what children have to stand it for. It is horrid nonsense.” - -Mamma thought it horrid nonsense too. She did not like to have such -things said to her little girls, and was glad that they were too wise -to be pleased with such foolish flattery, which might otherwise have -made them vain. - -Meanwhile, Mr. Temple was continuing his “horrid nonsense” to Bessie, -in spite of more than one reproof from Kate and her brother; but the -little “princess” received it in the most disdainful silence, which -greatly amused not only the two last, but also the offender himself. -But at last it became more than Bessie could bear, and she too slipped -from Kate’s hold and went back to her mother. From this time, the -children avoided Mr. Temple as much as possible; and, if they could -help it, would not join the Maynards when he was with them. - -“What is the reason you don’t like George Temple?” asked Kate of Bessie -one day. - -“I don’t know,” said Bessie, coloring: for she did not know she had -made her dislike so plain; and she really found it difficult to put -in words the cause of her annoyance. “I don’t know, Miss Kate; but I -_don’t_ like him. I believe I don’t approve of young men,” she added -doubtfully, as if she were not quite sure of the latter fact. - -“But you like Charlie, don’t you?” said Kate, smiling, “and he is a -young man, younger than Mr. Temple.” - -“Yes,” answered Bessie, with an air of deep reflection, “but--then--I -b’lieve the reason is, that Mr. Temple is not so very gentleman as Mr. -Maynard. Your brother plays with us, and makes fun for us, but he is -just as polite as if we were big ladies; but I think Mr. Temple is one -of those people who seem to think children don’t have feelings. You -know there is such a kind of people, Miss Kate.” - -“She knows the ring of the pure metal,” said Kate afterwards to her -mother, “and distinguishes the true gentleman in heart and feeling, as -well, or better than her elders. She did not mean her words for me, -I am sure; but I could not but remember that it is not so long since -I was myself one of that “kind of people who seem to think children -don’t have feelings”;” and Kate laughed at the recollection of Bessie’s -solemn air, when she had pronounced her opinion of Mr. Temple. “Poor -Maggie! how I used to tease her.” - -“Yes, indeed, Kate,” said Mrs. Maynard, “grown people, I fear, too -often forget how easily a child’s feelings are wounded; how the word, -the look, or laugh, which to us is a matter of indifference, or some -passing moment’s amusement, may mortify and grieve some sensitive -little heart, and leave there a sore spot long after we have forgotten -it.” - -“Yes,” said Kate, regretfully, “my conscience is not at ease on -that point. And you may thank darling Bessie, mother, for giving me -more than one innocent lesson in consideration and thoughtfulness -for others, both old and young. The honey-bee, too, with all her -heedlessness,--and she is naturally a careless little thing,--leaves -no sting behind her, for she never forgets the rule which she calls, -‘doing unto others.’” - - - - -X. - -_MAGGIE’S POEM._ - - -“Isn’t it a nice day, Maggie?” said Bessie, coming to her sister, who -was leaning with both arms on the railing which guarded the upper-deck, -watching the flashing water, the magnificent mountains, the blue sky, -and all the other beauties around and above her. - -“Yes,” answered Maggie; “and we’re having such a nice sail, except for -that man. Bessie, my head is quite full of poetry about it.” - -“Write some then,” said Bessie; “and we’ll send it to my soldier. He’ll -be so pleased. I’ll ask papa for a pencil and some paper;” and she -made her request to her father, who let her take his memorandum-book -for the purpose; and, furnished with this and excited by all the -beauty around, Maggie broke forth into the following verses, the first -of which was thought remarkably fine by Bessie and herself, as being -not only extremely poetical, but also as containing a great deal of -religious sentiment very touchingly expressed:-- - -“POEM ON A STEAMBOAT SAIL. - - “I have so very many mercies, - I have to write them down in verses; - Because my heart in praise goes up - For such a full and heaped-up cup. - - “But, ah! ’tis my unhappy fate - To see on board a man I hate: - I know I should not be so mad; - But he behaves so very bad.” - -“‘Hate’ there only means ‘can’t bear,’” said Maggie, when she had -finished this last verse and read it aloud to her sister: “but you see -‘can’t bear’ don’t rhyme very well with ‘fate;’ and I want to put that, -it is such a very poetical word, and sounds so very grown-up-y. I had -to put that verse about Mr. Temple for a relief to my feelings; and -‘hate’ must be excused.” - -“That first verse is lovely,” said Bessie. “It sounds so very nice; -and, besides, it is so pious.” - -“Yes,” said Maggie. “I thought I’d better begin with a little religion -and gratitude. Besides, it was that made the poetry come into my ideas, -Bessie. I was thinking how very good and grateful we ought to be, when -God gives us such a very beautiful world to look at, and travel about -in.” - -“Yes,” said Bessie, putting her head on one side and giving her sister -a look which expressed as much admiration and affection as a look could -do, “yes: what a very smart, nice girl you are, Maggie!” - -“You think so,” said Maggie; “but everybody don’t.” - -“That’s they don’t know any better,” said Bessie, whose praise might -have spoiled Maggie, if the latter had been at all vain and conceited. - -“The second verse isn’t very pious,” said Maggie, looking at it -doubtfully; “but I guess I’ll leave it in.” - -“And you can explain it to Uncle Horace when you write to him,” said -Bessie. “But make some more, Maggie: your poetry is splendid.” - -Thus encouraged, Maggie went on,-- - - “I look upon the blue, blue sky, - That spreads above us there on high: - Below, the water sparkles bright, - And all around the land is light. - - “The sun is shining, too, above, - And whispers to us, ‘God is love!’ - The moon, also, will shine to-night, - And pretty stars will twinkle bright.” - -“Oh, what lovely description you do make!” exclaimed Bessie, when -Maggie read these two verses. - - “This world is all so beautiful, - We should be very grateful; - But then, you know, sometimes we’re not, - And do forget our happy lot.” - -“We’ll have to read gra-te-ful to make it come right with beautiful,” -said Maggie, “but it sounds good enough.” - -“Oh! it’s perfectly lovely,” said Bessie. - - “Our father and our mother dear, - Each sitting in a steamboat chair; - Aunt Bessie too, the darling dear, - And Uncle Ruthven sitting near. - - “Oh! it doth make my heart rejoice - To hear each loved and pleasant voice; - And then I have my sisters sweet, - Who with kind smiles me always greet.” - -“What does ‘greet’ mean?” asked Bessie. - -“It means something like welcome,” answered Maggie. “I can’t explain -exactly; but I know it is a word poetry-writers use a great deal, and I -thought I had better put it in.” - -Maggie wrote on,-- - - “And then I’ve lots of friends at home, - From whom just now away I roam; - I trust they’ll all be safe and sound - When I again at home am found.” - -“That is enough for to-day,” said Maggie “but I am going to make a -long poem out of it, and I’ll do some more another time. I s’pose -Niagara will be a good thing to put in it. You know they say it is -splendid.” - -“What is ‘roam’?” asked Bessie, who must always inquire the meaning of -every word she did not understand. - -“To travel about. Just what we’re doing,” answered Maggie. - -“Then why don’t you say travel? I think it’s the nicest word.” - -“But it is not so uncommon,” said Maggie; “and you know when people -write poetry they always put in all the uncommon words they can find.” - -“Do they?” said Bessie, as if she did not quite approve of this rule. - -“Yes, to be sure,” answered Maggie. “You know prose is just common -talking; but poetry is uncommon talking, and you have to make it sound -as fine as you can, and put words you don’t use every day.” - -“Oh!” said Bessie. “Well, if you have done, I guess we’d better give -papa back his book.” - -Accordingly, the book was carried to papa, who had not had any idea -that Maggie’s poetical fancy would carry her so far, and who was rather -surprised to see several pages scribbled over with verses that were -lined and interlined, scratched out and written over, in a manner which -did not add to the beauty or neatness of the book. - -However, he only laughed, and taking out his penknife carefully cut out -the scribbled leaves and gave them to the little poetess, who rolled -them up, and tying them round with a bit of twine, stowed them away in -her satchel, till such time as she should be ready to copy and add to -them. - -But she did not find leisure for this till they had been at Niagara for -two or three days; and then, when she looked in her travelling-bag for -the precious poem, lo! it was gone! In vain did she and Bessie take out -all the other contents from the satchel, shake it, and feel in each -corner and pocket: no poem came to light, and great was the sorrowing -over its loss. - -“Then I s’pose I’ll never hear of it again,” said Bessie, regretfully, -when mamma said she thought Maggie must have pulled it out with some of -the other things her bag contained, and so dropped it, unseen. - -But poor Maggie _was_ to hear of her poem again; to hear a little too -much of it. - -The two parties spent a week or more at Niagara Falls, visiting many -a point of interest and beauty,--sometimes together, sometimes apart; -now standing below the level of the Rapids, and looking backward at -their white foaming crests drawn sharply against the blue sky, as -the mad waters went whirling and rushing over the slope; now, in the -early morning, looking up to the top of the Great Fall, which shone -and flashed like jewels in the rays of the sun, the gray mist curling -below, and a glorious rainbow stretching from shore to shore; now -taking the little steamer which plies to the foot of the cataract, -into the very midst of the thick, blinding spray. Mamma did not think -it best for Bessie to go on this expedition; but strong, hardy, little -Maggie was allowed to go, well wrapped in water-proof, and held fast -in papa’s or Uncle Ruthven’s arms. On the whole, however, Maggie did -not enjoy this as much as she did the other excursions. In the first -place, Bessie was not with her, and then she wanted to laugh at the -droll, miserable-looking figures about her, but would not do so, lest -she should “hurt their feelings, when they looked so very unhappy, and -as if they wished they had not come.” - -Then again they would pass over to some of the lovely little islands, -which here and there break the rapids above the American Fall. Two of -them, Ship and Brig Islands, had a special interest for the children, -from their resemblance to ships under full sail. Even Bessie, who could -never be persuaded to imagine any thing which she did not distinctly -see, noticed this, and said she felt almost sorry for them, for it -seemed as if they were “real live ships trying to sail out of the -waters that were hurrying them away so fast.” - -Mr. Bradford and Mr. Stanton had gone over to Goat Island one -afternoon, taking the little girls with them. Here they were lying -and sitting under the overarching trees, looking at the Hermit’s -Cascade, and listening to the deep, never-ceasing voice of the great -cataract, when they were joined by the younger portion of the Maynard -party,--Kate and her brother, and Mr. and Miss Temple. - -Maggie and Bessie had by this time taken Mr. Charlie Maynard into -special favor, looking upon him with eyes nearly as friendly as those -with which they regarded his sister; and they were glad to see both -him and Kate. Miss Temple, too, a quiet, lady-like girl, they liked -very well, and did not object to her; but they could very well have -dispensed with her brother’s society. However, he did not on this -occasion seem at first disposed to prove teasing or troublesome, but -stretched himself upon the grass, with his head supported on his arm -and his hat half over his eyes. - -But, by and by, Mr. Bradford and Mr. Stanton, seeing an old friend at -a little distance, went to speak to him; the former telling his little -girls to remain where they were till he returned. They were scarcely -out of hearing, when George Temple, turning lazily over so as to face -Maggie, though he still kept his eyes shaded by his hat, said,-- - -“This is delightful! One could dream half one’s life away in this -enchanting place and in such pleasant company. Have we not a poet or -poetess among us to put it all into verse? What! no answer to the call? -Then I shall have to try my hand at it.” - -“You making verses!” said his sister, laughing, and playfully pulling -the brown locks which escaped from beneath his hat. “You making -verses! a lame style of poetry that would be, to be sure.” - -“I don’t know,” said George. “Certainly I never appeared to have much -talent that way; but no one can tell what he may be able to do when a -fitting time arrives. I feel on the present occasion like the gifted -authoress who says so touchingly,-- - - ‘I have so very many mercies - I have to write them down in verses.’” - -Maggie started, and looked up from the little bunch of wild flowers she -was arranging to carry home to her mother. - -Mr. Maynard and the young ladies laughed; and Charlie said,-- - -“What a gem! Who is your authoress?” - -“She is Anon., I believe,” said George, sleepily. “She closes the -couplet with,-- - - ‘Because my heart in praise goes up - For such a full and heaped-up cup.’ - -Now I am in just such a frame of mind, and quite agree with her when -she goes on to say,-- - - ‘This world is all so beautiful, - We should be very gra-te-ful; - But then, you know, sometimes we’re not, - And do forget our happy lot.’” - -“George,” said Miss Temple, “how can you be so foolish?” but she -laughed again, and the others, too, went on laughing and joking him -about his “nonsense;” while poor Maggie sat,--with downcast-eyes, -changing color, and beating heart,--listening intently to every word -her tormentor uttered, and wondering how much more pain he would -put her through. As for Bessie, she had at first heard in wondering -surprise those strangely familiar lines; but surprise soon changed to -sympathy for her Maggie, and indignation against Mr. Temple. - -Suddenly Kate turned her eyes towards the two little faces, and the -expression of both left no room for doubt as to who was the author of -the unfortunate verses. Maggie was in an agony of embarrassment: too -well did Kate know the signs, and remember with shame how, not long -since, she herself had found as much amusement in them as George Temple -was probably now doing, since he was taking so much pains to excite -them. But Kate had learned better, and had grown more thoughtful and -considerate, more careful not to give pain to another for the sake of -a little passing enjoyment to herself. How cruel Mr. Temple’s teasing -seemed to her now, and how she felt for Maggie! - -For Bessie, too, who she saw was trying to keep down her rising temper, -she was very sorry. She must come to the rescue in some way. - -“I might have known from the first,” she said to herself, “that those -were Maggie’s verses. They sound just like her,--just like her happy, -grateful, little heart, always so ready and eager to give praise and -gratitude where they are due. They are not bad for such a child, -either; but I must help her out of this. Poor little Maggie!” - -“There’s another sentiment of the talented writer, to which I shall -also say amen,” began Mr. Temple again,-- - - “‘And then I’ve lots of friends at home - From whom just now away I roam; - I hope they’ll all be safe and sound - When I again at home am found.’” - -“I thought you meant to try your own powers of rhyming,” said Kate. “I -am glad you have not, for I know you could not do nearly as well as the -writer you quote; and I am sure you have not half as feeling a heart. -But we have had enough.” - -This was an unlucky speech of Kate’s; for it gave Mr. Temple an -opportunity of doing still worse. - -“A feeling heart!” he repeated: “well, I don’t know about that; her -feelings seem to have been mixed, for she says,-- - - ‘Alas! ’tis my unhappy fate - To see on board a man I hate: - I know I should not be so mad; - But he behaves so very bad.’ - -Now, I am in a much more amiable frame of mind; for I do not see in -this present company a single person whom it is ‘my unhappy fate’ to -hate. How is it with you, Maggie?” - -But Maggie was overwhelmed, and could not possibly have answered if she -had wished to do so ever so much. - -“Maggie,” said Kate, seeing no way to spare the child further confusion -but by taking her away, “you have not enough green with those flowers. -Come over there, I see some pretty leaves, and we will gather them.” - -Maggie sprang to her feet, letting the flowers fall to the ground, and -seized eagerly upon the kind hand held out for her relief. The tears, -which she had been struggling to hold back, flowed freely the moment -she was beyond the sound of her tormentor’s voice; but she felt better -for them and for Kate’s sympathy. - -“Never mind, dear,” said Kate, soothingly. “I know the poetry is yours, -Maggie, and it is very nice indeed; but I would not say so before -Charlie and Mary. I thought you would not like it. George Temple could -not have written it himself, and he ought to be ashamed to tease you -so.” - -“It’s _too, too_ mean,” sobbed Maggie; “and that man is too horrid. I -didn’t really mean I hated him; but now I most feel as if I did.” - -Meanwhile Bessie, who had lingered a moment to pick up Maggie’s -flowers, was receiving in dignified silence Mr. Temple’s questions as -he asked “what ailed her sister?” - -“What is the matter, George?” said Miss Temple, seeing something was -wrong. “Are you teasing Maggie? Are those verses hers?” - -“I told you they were Anon.,” replied her brother. - -This was a little too much. It was quite bad enough for Mr. Temple -to torment Maggie so; but that he should give the credit of those -beautiful verses to another, was more than could be borne, and Bessie -turned upon him, saying, with the utmost severity, but without -passion,-- - -“They’re not. Miss Anon. didn’t write them. My Maggie did; and you know -it, and you took them out of her bag.” - -Mr. Temple laughed with the others at the first part of the speech, but -looked grave again at its ending. - -“Hallo!” he said, rousing himself from the lazy attitude he had kept -until now, “do you know what you are saying, little lady? That would be -stealing.” - -Bessie stood looking at him for a moment in silence. - -“I picked them up off the deck of the steamboat,” said the young -gentleman, a shade of vexation crossing his face as he noted the -expression of the child’s. - -With grave reproach in her great, serious eyes, she made answer,-- - -“I don’t see why it’s not just the same.” - -“The same as what, as stealing?” - -“You knew they were not yours, sir,” answered the child. “I don’t -suppose it was just stealing, but I think it was”-- - -“Well,” said Mr. Temple, seeing she hesitated. - -“I had better go away,” said Bessie: “I feel pretty saucy and I might -say something you deserved;” with which she turned away, and ran after -Kate and Maggie. - -Mr. Temple looked, as he felt, uncomfortable. The joke had proved -more serious than he had intended; and the remarks made by his two -companions, and their amusement at Bessie’s words, did not tend to make -him better pleased with the consequences of his own conduct. - -Kate added her reproaches when she returned, after leaving Maggie and -Bessie in their father’s care, saying,-- - -“I had rather, for your own sake, that you had done this thing to any -other children than those two, George. They are both so truly just, and -have such a high sense of honor, which you have rudely shocked.” - -“A child’s sense of honor,” repeated George, rather scornfully. “I am -sorry I teased them, and had no idea Maggie would take it so hardly; -but I am not troubled in regard to my self. A child’s opinion does not -signify much.” - -“It does with me,” said Kate, “and I can tell you a story to the -point, and which may show you what a child’s sense of honor is worth. I -think they sometimes see the right and wrong more clearly than we do.” - -“You seem to have great faith in these little friends of yours,” said -Mr. Temple. - -“Yes,” replied Kate, “I have reason. They have been tried and not found -wanting, as you shall hear;” and Kate told the story of the prize -composition,--the hopes and fears regarding it, its loss and recovery, -and the noble way in which our little girls had acted. - -“Capital!” said Charlie, as she ended. “They judge others only by the -rules by which their own conduct is guided; and there is a wise saying -in an old book we all know of, which we would do well to remember: -namely, ‘Take heed that ye offend not one of these little ones.’ I -take that to mean, not only that we are to set a good example to them, -and that we must so act and speak as not to confuse and disturb their -ideas of right and wrong; but also, that whoever purposely hurts or -grieves one of them, commits a sin in the eyes of Him who gave them His -special care and blessing. Which of us could have calmly borne ridicule -thrown upon some cherished work of our own, such as you cast, George, -on the simple verses of that shy, sensitive, little Maggie? Poor little -poetess! And I honor Bessie, baby though she is, for the way in which -she struggled with her temper, and removed herself from the temptation -to give way to it, and ‘say something you deserved.’ Could there have -been a more severe reproof than that?” and Mr. Maynard laughed again -at Bessie’s speech and manner, though he felt that this had become no -laughing matter. - -“They have both forgiven him now,” said Kate, dryly; “and Bessie made -the excuse for him which she usually makes for others who do what she -considers wrong, that ‘maybe Mr. Temple had never been taught better, -and so didn’t know what was very true and honest, or he wouldn’t have -kept Maggie’s verses, when he knew they were hers, for such a very -unkind purpose as to tease her.’ ‘And maybe he didn’t know how very bad -I felt, and never thought much about doing unto others,’ added Maggie. -I cannot believe you meant to be as cruel as you were, George; for you -did not know how much Maggie dreads notice drawn upon herself. You -see,” she added, playfully, “I have myself so lately learned the lesson -how much suffering such thoughtlessness may cause another, that I feel -entitled to preach on the subject to others.” - -Mr. Temple took the preaching in good part. He had a lazy kind of -good-nature which would not allow him to take offence readily; and, -besides, he was really sorry and vexed with himself for what he had -done. Perhaps he would have regretted it still more, had he seen part -of a letter written that afternoon by Maggie to Colonel Rush:-- - - “DEAR UNCLE HORACE,--I think there are a kind of people in the - world who seem to be created only for a very bad business, - namely, to tease poor children and make their shyness come - back to them when they have been trying very hard to cure - themselves of it. Of this nature is a man whose name I will - not mention, for some day you might know him and say ‘there is - the trecherous man who was so cruel to Maggie and I will not be - acquainted with him’ which would be a punishment I would not - wish even him to bear because I am trying to forgive him but it - is very hard. He picked up a poem I wrote on the boat to send - to you, and he kept it and said it before me just to plage me - and there was a verse in it about him which was not at all a - compliment and oh! dear Uncle Horace he said that too, and it - was dreadful I was so frightened. I am quite sure he knew it - was mine and Bessie is too and I don’t think it was very honest - not to give it right back do you? but to read it which was not - like what a gentleman should do. He made believe he thought it - was nice but he did not and was only making fun of it which - was a hard distress to bear and I think I shall never recover - it and feel as pleasant with that man as I would wish to feel - with all my fellow cretures. Miss Kate was very nice and took - me away and she is much improved and never teases any more - and now I love her dearly; but she never teased me so badly as - that man who I will not name and I pity Miss Temple for having - such a brother for she is a very nice young lady and deserves - better. When Harry and Fred are young men which I wish they did - not have to be I hope they will remember this and take pattern - by Mr. Maynard and not by M---- that other man I mean. But no - more on this melancorly subject so sad to think on but I will - tell you about Niagara Falls. - - “N. B. Mr. Temple is a very good looking young man in his - appearance but I find all is not gold that glitters.” - - - - -XI. - -_GOOD SEED._ - - - “MY OWN DEAR SOLGER,--I do want to see you so much I don’t kno - wat to do and Ant May too and May Bessie. I did not see you - ever so long and it is such a grate wile I miss you so. But - Mamma says some day we will go to your house in that place - where you live and I will be so glad and my Maggie too. They - are indians in Nigra Falls and they have pretty things and we - bort some for all our peple and a baskit for Ant May and a - rattel for May Bessie and something for you that is a secret. - Plese dont tell them so they will be surprised and Nigra Falls - is so fast you cant think. I never saw such fast water and it - makes such a noise but not so nice as the sea and I like it - best when we go on the ilans or up the river where it is not so - much noise or such hie water to fall over. Some ilans are named - the three sisters and we call one Maggie and one Bessie and - one Annie don’t you think that is nice. I want to see Belle so - much. Belle loves me and I love Belle and Maggie does too and - I love her more that her mama went away to Jesus and she wants - her but I know she loves her yet and is glad when she is good. - And Belle is sweet. Don’t you love Belle? I send you forty nine - kisses and I love you dear Uncle Horace from your pet - - “BESSIE.” - -It would be hard to tell who took the most pleasure in these letters -from our little travellers,--those who wrote them, or those who -received them. One thing is certain,--that they were all carefully -kept and laid away, and some time, when they are older, Maggie and -Bessie may find some amusement in looking over these records of their -childish days. Many a pleasant scene and circumstance will they bring -back to them, and some not so bright perhaps; for the little ones have -their trials, as we know, and do not, I fear, forget as readily as -we grown people would believe. It is strange we do not see that too; -looking back, as we often do, with a sort of tender pity for our own -former grieved and mortified _little_ selves, and remembering with -such distinctness the sharp or quick word of reproof, the thoughtless -teasing, or the loud, sudden laugh at some innocent speech or action. - -Little did Bessie think when she wrote that last letter, how soon her -wishes to see her dear friends were to be gratified. - -It had been intended to take the steamer down Lake Ontario and the St. -Lawrence to Montreal: but on the day before that on which our friends -were to leave Niagara, there was a severe storm which tossed and -roughened the waters of the great lake; and fearing that Maggie might -have an attack of the old enemy she so dreaded, and knowing that fresh -water seasickness is even worse than that which comes from the salt -water, the elders of the party decided not to take the boat down the -lake. - -They therefore went by the cars to Kingston, in Canada, and, after -passing a day there, took the boat down the river St. Lawrence; for -here Maggie had nothing to fear from her foe. There was no part of -their long journey which the children enjoyed more than their passage -down this beautiful river, so different from any thing they had yet -seen. The Lake of the Thousand Isles, as the entrance to the St. -Lawrence is called, full of little islets up to the number that is -named, a thousand: some larger, and covered with graceful, feathery -trees; some so small as scarce to afford room for some solitary tree or -bush; clustering together so as scarce to leave room for the steamer to -pass, then again separating, with a broad, clear sheet of water between -them. - -Here something occurred which greatly interested not only the children, -but also the grown people on board. As the steamer was slowly making -her way between two small islands, the passengers saw a very exciting -chase before them. A fine stag was swimming across the river, pursued -by dogs and two boats with men in them. The poor beast was trying with -all his strength to escape from his cruel enemies, and the sympathies -of all the passengers were with him. The men in the boats had no guns, -but a net, which they were trying to throw over his head; but each -time they neared him, he shot forward beyond their reach. Maggie and -Bessie were in a state of the wildest excitement, as they watched the -innocent and beautiful creature panting with terror and fatigue; and -their elders were hardly less so. Bessie held fast her father’s hand, -gazing with eager eyes and parted lips, her color coming and going, her -little frame trembling with distress and indignation; and Maggie seized -upon Uncle Ruthven and danced up and down in frantic suspense and alarm -at the danger of the poor beast. His courage seemed giving out, and -his pursuers cheered in triumph; when, summoning up all his strength, -he suddenly turned, and, passing almost under the bow of the steamer, -made for the opposite and nearer shore, thus gaining upon his enemies -as they took time to turn their boats; and cleaving the water, almost -like lightning, he reached the thickly wooded bank, bounded up, and -was lost to sight among the forest trees, and beyond the reach of his -would-be destroyers. A cheer burst from those on board, as the noble -creature disappeared in safety,--a cheer in which Maggie joined with -all her heart, “for I couldn’t help it, and most forgot it was rather -tomboyish,” she afterwards said. But no one found fault with her: -indeed no one could. As for Bessie, she fairly cried, but it was only -with pleasure and the feeling of relief. - -Later in the day, they were greatly interested in seeing the shooting -of the Rapids, as the passage of the steamer over the foaming waters is -called. It was a curious sight. The water foamed and bubbled around -the steamer, seeming as though it were eager to draw it down; but the -vessel glided on, rose a little to the billows, plunged, rose again, -and was once more in smooth waters. There were several of these rapids -to be passed; and, although our little girls had been rather frightened -at the first, they soon became accustomed to it, and enjoyed the swift -descent. The crew of the steamer were all Canadians; and, as they came -to each rapid, they struck up some cheery boat-song, which rose sweet -and clear above the roar of the waves, and put heart and courage into -the more timid ones among the passengers. - -They soon reached Montreal, where they spent a week; and here again the -opportunity to do a kind act, and leave a blessing behind them, came in -the way of our little sisters. - -They were one day passing through the long upper hall of the hotel at -which they stayed, when they met the chamber-maid who waited on their -rooms, crying bitterly. The girl, who was quite young, had her apron -thrown over her head, and seemed in great distress. - -“What is the matter, Matilda?” asked nurse, who was with the children. - -“I’ve lost my place,” sobbed Matilda; “and I’ve my mother and my two -little brothers to take care of. Oh! whatever will I do?” - -“Why are you turned away?” asked nurse, who thought the girl attended -to her duties very well, and was civil and obliging. - -Then Matilda took down her apron, showing her face all streaked with -tears, and told her story. - -She had, it appeared, been unfortunate,--perhaps rather careless,--and -had broken one or two articles, the loss of which had greatly vexed the -house-keeper, who had told her she should leave her place the next time -she broke any thing. This had made her more careful; but that morning -an accident had occurred which might have happened to any one. Turning -the corner of a corridor, with a pitcher full of water in her hand, -some one had run against her, the pitcher was knocked from her hold, -and broken into a hundred pieces. The house-keeper would hear of no -excuse, and bade her leave the house at once, or pay for the pitcher. - -“And I haven’t a penny,” said the girl; “for I sent all my wages to my -mother yesterday to pay her rent, and there’s nothing for it but I must -go. And what is to become of us all, if I don’t get another place right -away?” - -Nurse tried to comfort her, by saying she would soon find another -situation; but Matilda replied that was not so easy, and she feared -they would all suffer before she found it; and went away, still crying -bitterly. Maggie and Bessie were very sorry for her. - -“I wonder if we haven’t money enough to pay for the pitcher, Bessie,” -said Maggie. “If we had, then maybe the house-keeper would let her -stay; and if she won’t we could give Matilda the money to keep her -mother and brothers from starving.” - -“Yes, that’s a good thought of you, Maggie,” said Bessie; “and there’s -the house-keeper now. Let’s run and ask her quick: may we, nursey?” - -Nurse gave permission, though she did not think the children would be -successful in their errand of kindness; and said low, either to herself -or baby, whom she carried in her arms,-- - -“Eh! the little dears will do naught with her. She’s a cross-grained -creature, that house-keeper, and as short in her way as a -snapping-turtle.” - -Maggie’s courage began to fail her when she and Bessie ran up to the -house-keeper, and heard the severe tone in which she was speaking to -another servant. It was true that her manner and speech were apt to be -rather harsh and short in dealing with those about her, especially to -the girls who were under her orders; but it must be said in her excuse -that she led rather a trying life, and had a good deal to vex and -trouble her. - -Maggie and Bessie stood waiting behind the house-keeper’s stout figure, -till she had, as Maggie afterwards said, “finished up her scoldings,” -when Bessie said rather timidly:-- - -“Mrs. Housekeeper?” - -“Well, what’s wanted now?” asked the woman, turning sharply round; but, -when she saw who was speaking to her, her face softened and her manner -changed. - -Now the worst of all this poor woman’s troubles was the long tedious -sickness of her only child, a little girl about Bessie’s age, but -not bright and happy, and able to run about and play like our little -“princess.” This poor child had been ailing for more than six months, -sometimes suffering a great deal, and always very weak; and her mother -had not much time to give to her, since she was obliged to attend to -her duties about the hotel of which she had charge. - -When the child was well enough, she was put into a perambulator and -taken out for fresh air; and she had just returned from one of these -rides on the day before this, as Maggie and Bessie came in from a -drive with the elders of their party. They had been to visit an Indian -encampment just outside the city, and returned laden with all manner -of pretty trifles purchased for the dear ones at home, and some for -themselves. - -They had each of them also a handful of flowers given to them by some -friend; and, as they passed the sick child lying in her wagon, and -turned towards her with a look of sympathy, Bessie saw her eyes fixed -longingly on the sweet blossoms she held. - -She stopped and turning to Maggie said,-- - -“I think I’ll give my flowers to that sick child, she looks as if she’d -like them,” and then going to the child she put the flowers in her -hand, and said, “Here are some flowers for you, and I am sorry you are -sick.” - -“And here’s a basket for you,” said Maggie, coming forward with her -offering too; and she gave a pretty little basket, the work of the -Indians, which she had bought for her own use: “you can put Bessie’s -flowers in it, and it will look lovely. See, let me fix them for you,” -and in two minutes her skilful little fingers had arranged the flowers -most tastefully, greatly to the child’s delight. - -“And am I to keep the basket?” asked the sick child. - -“Oh, yes! for ever and ever if you like,” said Maggie; “and when the -flowers are faded you can take them out and put some more in.” - -“I don’t often have flowers,” said the child; “but I love them so: only -I don’t like to take all yours,” she added, looking at Bessie. - -“Oh! she is going to have half mine,” said Maggie; “you needn’t be -troubled about that. Good-by now,” and she and Bessie ran after their -parents, leaving the sick child brightened and happy. - -[Illustration: Bessie’s Travels. p. 268.] - -Her mother had been standing near enough to hear and see all that had -passed; and so you will not wonder that now, when she turned and saw -Maggie and Bessie, her harsh look and tone became gentle and pleasant. - -“Oh! it’s you, you little dears,” she said. “Now, is there ever a thing -I can do for you?” - -“Yes,” said Bessie. “We are so sorry for Matilda, and we wanted to know -if you would let us pay for the pitcher she broke if we have money -enough, and try her just once more?” - -“I like to please you,” said the woman; “but Matilda is so careless I -cannot put up with her.” - -“But it really wasn’t her fault this time,” pleaded Bessie; “she says -a man ran against her, and knocked it out of her hand when she was -carrying it so carefully.” - -“And we’ll pay for it if we have enough,” said Maggie. - -“And her mother is sick,” said Bessie; “and you know we ought to be -sorry and kind to sick people; and you know, too, we ought to forgive -as we want to be forgiven. Couldn’t you do it for the sick mother’s -sake? And maybe this will be a good lesson to Matilda.” - -“I’ll keep her for your sake, and strive to be more patient with her -too,” said the house-keeper; “and I think you’ll never lack for comfort -and kindness when you’re sick yourselves: at least, not if the Lord -repays what’s done for Him, as the good book says He does.” - -“And how much must we pay for the pitcher?” asked Bessie. - -“Not a penny. I don’t know as Matilda was to blame this time, and I -didn’t listen to her story as I should, I own; but I’ve been so put -about this morning. You go your ways, you little dears; and Matilda -shall stay for your good word.” - -Now the children did not know it, but probably the good word of the -two little strangers would have gone but little way with the angry -house-keeper, had it not been for the kindness done to her sick child -the day before; but so it was, and so the one good thing sprang from -the other. - -They left Montreal the next morning, and then came two long days of -railway travelling, ending in Boston. Here they stayed only a few -hours, and then started afresh about six o’clock in the evening, bound -“for Narragansett Bay,” papa said, when he was asked where they were -now going. Bessie was so thoroughly tired that she was soon glad to -nestle her head against her father and go to sleep: a very comfortable -sleep it was too, from which she did not wake even when she was carried -from the cars to a carriage, and from the carriage into a certain -house. Maggie, too, after refusing similar accommodation from Uncle -Ruthven, and holding herself very upright, and stretching her eyes very -wide open, at last gave in, and accepted the repeated offer of his arm -as a pillow. - -But they both roused up at last when they were brought into that house. -Where were they now? and whose voices were those, so familiar and so -dear, but not heard for many weeks? - -Maggie opened her eyes with a start, wide-awake on the instant, and, -immediately understanding all, gave a shriek of delight, sprang off the -sofa where Uncle Ruthven had placed her, and was fast about Mrs. Rush’s -neck, exclaiming,-- - -“It’s Newport! it is Newport! and this is Aunt May’s house, and papa -has surprised us. Oh! lovely, lovely! Bessie! Bessie! wake up, and hear -the good news.” - -Bessie slowly opened her eyes at the call, not yet understanding; but -as she saw the face that was bending over her, and knew that here was -her “own dear solger,” whom she had so longed to see, she gave a long -sigh of intense satisfaction, and, after her usual manner when her -heart was full of love and tenderness, let two words speak for her,-- - -“Uncle Horace.” - -There was no surprise in the tone, only unspeakable pleasure and -affection; and she laid her head against his shoulder with an -expression of utter content. - -“This is the very best thing in all our travels,” said Maggie. “Where -is May Bessie, Aunt May?” - -“Fast asleep in her cradle, and I can’t let you peep at her to-night,” -said Mrs. Rush. “We’ll keep that for the morning.” - -Mamma said all other pleasures must be kept for the morning, save that -of following May Bessie’s example; and Bessie, who could scarcely keep -her eyes open, even for the purpose of looking at her beloved Colonel -Rush, was quite ready to obey; but Maggie thought she had had sleep -enough for one night, and would like at once to make acquaintance with -all her new surroundings. - -“But we are all going to rest, for it is nearly midnight,” said the -colonel; which caused Maggie to change her mind, as she had no fancy -for staying up alone; and she was now eager to go to sleep at once, -so that “morning might come before she knew it,” and she went off -saying,-- - -“I never saw children who had such heaps and heaps of happiness as we -do. I don’t know how I’m ever going to make up enough gratitude for it.” - -Perhaps her gratitude to the kind hand which showered so much happiness -upon her was best shown in the sunny spirit with which she took both -trials and blessings, and in her readiness to share the latter with all -whom she met. - - - - -XII. - -“_HAPPY DELIGHTS._” - - -“Woof! woof! woof! woof!” - -Was it possible Flossie knew who was in that pretty room where Maggie -and Bessie had been snugly tucked away last night? Certain it is that -these sounds, accompanied by a violent scratching at the door, as if he -were in a great hurry to have it opened, awakened our little sisters in -the morning. - -“Why!” said Maggie, in great surprise, “if that don’t sound like--why, -Janie!” as her eyes fell upon the smiling face of Jane, looking at her -over the foot-board of her bed. - -“Why, Janie!” repeated Bessie in her turn. “Who is barking?” she added, -as a fresh burst of scratching, and “woof, woof”-ing, came from the -door. - -“Shall I open it and see?” asked Jane; and she opened the door, when -in rushed Flossie, who, jumping on the bed, went into an ecstasy of -delight and welcome that fell little short of speaking. He wriggled -and twisted and barked, and nearly wagged his tail off, and behaved -altogether as if he were half frantic. His little mistresses almost -smothered him; but he did not object, and put his cold nose in their -faces, and wagged and wriggled harder than ever. Never was such a -delighted little dog. - -Before the children had time to ask any questions, Frankie came running -in, exclaiming,-- - -“Hi! Maddie and Bessie. Flossie and me and Janie found you. All the -peoples is downstairs to brekwis.” - -Maggie was dismayed. All the people down to breakfast! and she had -meant to be awake with the first streak of daylight. Frankie had to be -squeezed and kissed of course; and then Jane and nurse were begged to -wash and dress them as fast as possible. - -“Why, what’s that noise?” asked Bessie while nurse was busy with her. -“It sounds just like the sea.” - -“The wind is high this morning,” said nurse, who had had her orders. - -“How much it sounds like my dear sea,” said Bessie, unsuspectingly, as -she glanced up at the window and saw the branches of the trees waving -about in what was, as Mammy said, rather a high wind. “Can’t we have -the window open, so we could hear it plainer? I could most think it was -the sea.” - -“It’s cool this morning. Wait for open windows till you’re dressed and -downstairs,” said nurse. - -Bessie said no more; but she kept turning her head and listening to the -sound, which seemed to her to be distinct from that of the wind, and -which sounded so very much like her beloved sea. - -Meanwhile, Maggie was quite taken up with asking questions; hearing -how grandmamma, Aunt Annie, the boys, Jane, and Flossie, had come to -Newport by last night’s boat, reaching there early in the morning, -before she had been roused from that ridiculously long sleep. Nothing -less than having the whole family beneath their hospitable roof, would -satisfy Colonel and Mrs. Rush; and they had contrived to carry their -point. - -Maggie’s “heaps of happiness” were rising higher and higher. When they -were ready, Jane took them downstairs; but she led them by a back -corridor, and seemed to take pains to keep them away from windows and -doors which opened upon the outside of the house. Certainly she and -nurse acted in a rather strange and “mysterious” manner that morning. -But at last she had them safely at the door of the breakfast room, -where she left them. - -The whole party were still seated round the table, though the meal was -about over when they entered; and they were going from one to another, -offering kisses, smiles, and welcomes, when Bessie’s eyes fell through -the open sash of a large bow-window, drawn there by that same sound she -had heard upstairs. - -For an instant she stood speechless with astonishment and delight; -then, stretching out her hands towards the window, with her whole face -lighting up, she cried,-- - -“It is, it is, it is the very, very sea! my own true sea!” - -Yes: there it was, the “true sea,” as she called it, or more properly -the seashore she loved so much. Her friends watched her for a moment -with smiling interest. They had expected to see her so pleased; and, -wishing to be present when she first beheld it, Mrs. Rush had so -arranged that she and Maggie should be on the other side of the house -on the first morning, and nurse and Jane had been told to keep them as -much as possible from the sight and sound of the sea. - -The Colonel rose, and, taking her hand, led her out upon the broad -piazza, where she might see the whole extent of land and water which -the magnificent view afforded. - -The house stood on very high ground, overlooking a cliff in front, -which fell sheer down to the water. To the left, was a broad, sweeping -curve of beach, on which the waves were breaking; the long white -rollers, with their curling tops, following one another in grand -procession, and making beautiful and solemn music as their march was -ended. Away to the right lay a wilder, but hardly a grander, scene. -Here were great, rugged rocks, among and over which dashed and foamed -the waves, whose course they barred. Some were hidden beneath the -surface of the water, and the feathery foam which boiled and bubbled -over their jagged faces, alone told where they lay. Beyond, and far -away, stretched the boundless ocean, the sea Bessie so loved; the white -crests of its waves flashing and sparkling in the glorious sunshine of -that bright morning; the blue and cloudless sky, overhead. And the hymn -which the grand old king was sounding in Bessie’s ear, was still that -she had so loved two summers ago, the chant of praise which bids all -who can hear, “remember our Father who made it.” - -She stood holding the Colonel’s hand, gazing and listening, as though -eye and ear could not take their fill; breakfast was unheeded, and it -was not till grandmamma reproachfully asked if she was to be forgotten -for the sea, that Bessie could be persuaded to turn away. - -Maggie, too, was delighted to be once more at the seashore; but she -had not the longing for it that Bessie had, and all places were about -equally pleasant to her, provided she had those she loved with her. - -But now May Bessie was brought, and even the sea was for the time -forgotten in the pleasure of seeing her and noticing how much she had -grown and improved. When a little life is counted by months, two of -these make a great difference, and it was as long as that since Maggie -and Bessie had seen Mrs. Rush’s baby. She was a sweet, bright, little -thing; and it might have been thought that she had seen the children -every day, so speedily did she make friends with them. Indeed, Bessie -was sure the baby recognized them, and intended to show she was glad to -see them; and no one cared to disturb this belief, in which she took -great satisfaction. It was funny to see the patronizing airs which -little Annie put on towards the younger baby, and the care which she -showed for her. She called her “Dolly,” and seemed to think it hard and -strange that she was not allowed to pull and carry her about as she -would have done a real doll. Aunt Patty, who had taken a great fancy to -Mrs. Rush, had made several toys and pretty things for her baby’s use, -and among them was a worsted doll, in all respects like the lost Peter -Bartholomew. - -May Bessie had not the same objections to this gentleman that little -Annie had to hers, but opened great eyes, and cooed and crowed at him; -and altogether showed more pleasure in him than in any other plaything -she possessed. Not so Annie, when he was introduced to her. - -“See here, baby. Who is this?” said Mrs. Bradford, wishing to see if -she would recognize it, and she held up the doll before the eyes of her -by no means gratified baby daughter. - -The pet drew up her rose-bud of a mouth into the most comical -expression of astonishment and disgust at the sight of the old object -of her dislike; for, as was quite natural, she took it to be the very -same Peter Bartholomew. Then, taking him from her mother’s hand, she -gravely marched with him to the hearth-rug, and, tucking him beneath -it, sat down upon it, saying, “Tit on Peter,” in a tone of triumph, -as though she thought she had now altogether extinguished the unlucky -offender. Great was her indignation when, later in the day, she was -brought in from her drive, and found Peter Bartholomew No. 2 had -reappeared. Finding the hearth-rug was not a safe hiding-place, she -was from this time constantly contriving ways and means for putting -him out of sight; but only to find that he as constantly turned up -again. In vain did she throw him out of windows, and behind doors; poke -him through the banisters, and let him fall in the hall below: tuck -him behind sofa-cushions, and squeeze him into the smallest possible -corners, with all manner of things piled on top of him: he still proved -a source of trouble to her. The other children found great amusement in -this, and in pretending to hunt for Peter, while they knew very well -where he was. - -But on the third day they really hunted in vain. Peter Bartholomew the -second seemed to be as thoroughly “all don,” as his namesake who had -been left on the far-away Southern railroad; and the nurses joined in -the search with no better success. Annie seemed to have accomplished -her object this time; and the little one herself could not be persuaded -to say where she had put him. Her mother tried to make her tell; but -the child seemed really to have forgotten, and the matter was allowed -to rest. - -However, Peter came to light at last, to light very nearly in earnest. -In Mrs. Rush’s nursery was a large, open fireplace, where wood was -always laid ready for lighting when a fire should be needed for the -baby. One cool morning, about a week after Peter’s disappearance, May -Bessie’s nurse lit the fire, when Annie, who sat upon Mammy’s knee, -suddenly exclaimed, as the smoke began to curl up the chimney,-- - -“Oh, dear, dear! Peter ’moke.” - -“You monkey,” said nurse, “I believe you’ve put him behind the wood;” -and the two nurses hastened to scatter the fire, when, sure enough, -Peter Bartholomew was drawn forth, slightly scorched and smelling -somewhat of “’moke,” but otherwise unhurt. Annie took it hard, however, -and was so grieved at his reappearance that Mrs. Rush, who was in the -nursery, said he had better be put away while she stayed. Probably the -lighting of the fire recalled to baby’s mind where she had put the -lost Peter. - -But we must go back to the first morning of their stay at Newport. The -ladies were all rather tired with their journey and were disposed to -rest; but the children, refreshed by a good night’s sleep, were quite -ready to start out with the gentlemen for a ramble on the beach. - -“Do you like this as well as Quam Beach?” asked the Colonel of Bessie, -as she sat beside him on a rock, with his arm drawn close about her, as -in the old days of two summers since: those days when she had come, a -little Heaven-sent messenger, across his path, to guide his wandering -feet into the road which leads to Eternal Life. Was it any wonder that, -thinking of this, he looked down with a very tender love on the dear -little one, over whose work the angels of Heaven had rejoiced? - -They had both sat silent for some time, the rest of the party having -wandered to a short distance, when the Colonel asked this question,-- - -“Do you like this as well as Quam Beach, Bessie?” - -“Oh, yes, sir! better,” said Bessie. “I never _did_ see such a lovely, -lovely place as this, or feel such nice air. It’s the best place we -went to in all our travels; and then we have you and most all the -people we love here. I am so very contented.” - -She looked so indeed, as she sat smiling and happy, looking out over -the sapphire blue waters, and watching the white-capped waves which -broke almost at her feet. - -“Yes,” said the Colonel, smiling. “I thought it would add to your -contentment to have all your people here to meet you, if I could bring -it about.” - -“Yes,” said Maggie, who came dancing up in time to hear these last -words. “It was so very considerate of you and Aunt May. Oh! this is -the very happiest world I ever lived in. I wish, I _wish_, I could live -a thousand years in it.” - -“But Maggie,” said Bessie, “then you’d be so very long away from -heaven.” - -“Well, yes,” said Maggie; “but then I’d hope to go to heaven after the -thousand years, and I’d try to be very good all the time.” - -“But long before the thousand years were past, all whom you love -would have gone away to that still happier home our Lord has prepared -for us,” said the Colonel, “and then you would be lonely and wish to -follow, would you not, Maggie?” - -“Yes,” answered Maggie, a shade of thoughtfulness coming over her sunny -face. “I’m sure I would if all my dear friends went to heaven, and -maybe some of them wouldn’t want to live a thousand years.” - -“And it’s so hard always to be good,” said Bessie, “and sometimes even -_we_ have troubles, and are sick, even though we are so happy ’most all -the time.” - -“Yes,” said Maggie, “so we do. I’m not sick much ’cept when I have the -earache: but maybe I’d be lame and deaf and blind and hump-backed, and -all kind of things, before I was a thousand years old; and that would -be horrid. I wouldn’t like to have a great many troubles either; so I -guess it’s better it is fixed for me just as God chooses.” - -“We may be sure of that, dear,” said the Colonel. “God knows what is -best for us, and rules our lives for our good and His glory.” - -“I’m not sure I mind so very much about the being naughty now and -then,” said Maggie. “I know I ought to, but I’m afraid I don’t. I -s’pose when I have so much to make me happy I ought to be full of -remorse all the time for ever being naughty, but somehow I can’t be. -And I do have afflictions sometimes. Oh!” she added, as the thought of -her last severe trouble came over her, “we forgot to give Uncle Horace -the things we prepared for him. You see, Uncle Horace, one day I found -such a very nice proverb, ‘though lost to sight to memory dear;’ and -Bessie and I thought we would like to practise it on you; so I finished -up that poem I began, and Bessie drew a picture for you, and here is -the poem,” and Maggie drew from her pocket the poem, nicely finished -and copied out. - -“Thank you very much, dear,” said the Colonel. “I am very much pleased; -but I thought that the poem was lost, or that you had been robbed of -it.” - -“Papa got it back for me,” said Maggie. - -“Yes,” said Bessie; “and I was with papa when he asked Mr. Temple for -it; and I was sorry for Mr. Temple, even though he did tease you so, -Maggie.” - -“Why, papa didn’t scold him, did he?” asked Maggie. - -“No,” answered Bessie; “he only said, ‘Mr. Temple, may I trouble you -for that paper belonging to my little girl;’ but he _mannered_ him, and -I wouldn’t like papa to have such a manner to me, and Mr. Temple looked -ashamed. He is a very unpleasant gentleman; but I was sorry for him.” - -“But where is the picture?” asked Colonel Rush. - -“Here,” said Bessie, and in her turn she produced a paper from her -pocket and unfolded it before the Colonel’s eyes. “It is Adam and Eve -in the garden of Eden,” she went on to say: “here they are, and there -is the tree with the serpent on it, and there is another with birds and -squir’ls on it. The squir’ls are eating nuts, and the birds are pecking -peaches, and they are having a nice time.” - -“This is very interesting,” said the Colonel, not thinking it necessary -to tell her that peaches and nuts did not usually grow on the same -tree; “and what is this in the corner, Bessie?” - -“That is the bower they made for a home to live in,” said Bessie; “and -there is Adam’s wheelbarrow and Eve’s watering-pot. I s’pose she helped -Adam take care of the garden: don’t you, sir?” - -“And this?” asked the Colonel, pointing to another object which he had -vainly been endeavoring to make out. “It is a pigeon house, I think.” - -“Oh, no, sir!” said Bessie, rather mortified. “It is a flag, the flag -of England. I was going to put the ’merican flag: but I thought it -would be more a compliment to you to put your own country’s; and so -I did. There’s the lion;” and she pointed out something which looked -rather more like a spider than a lion; feeling the while, poor little -soul, rather hurt that her compliment had not been appreciated without -explanation. - -Now Maggie had had her doubts as to whether a flag was altogether a -suitable ornament for the garden of Eden, but she had not chosen to -say so to Bessie, who had taken great pains with her picture; and she -watched the Colonel’s face closely to see if she could find any sign of -amusement or surprise. - -Not the slightest. He sat gravely smoothing down his moustache, as -Bessie explained the picture to him, not a smile disturbing the lines -of his face, not a twinkle breaking into those black eyes, looking only -interested and pleased; and Maggie dismissed her fears and satisfied -herself that the flag was not at all out of place. - -“This is a compliment, indeed,” said the Colonel with the utmost -gravity. “You were very, very kind to think of it, Bessie; and Adam and -Eve were, as Maggie says, extremely considerate to allow the flag of my -country to be planted in the garden of Eden. I must show this to Aunt -May, and shall certainly keep it for May Bessie when she is old enough -to understand it. But see, who is coming here?” - -The children followed the direction of his eye. Two figures were coming -down the beach,--a tall one, and a little one. Was it possible? Yes; -it really was Mr. Powers and Belle, dear little Belle, whom Bessie had -been longing to see. - -A shriek from Maggie, who went tumbling over a rock in her haste to -reach them, but picked herself up and rushed on, regardless of grazed -knees and elbows; an exclamation, less noisy, but quite as full of -pleasure, from Bessie,--and the three little friends had met again. -There was Frankie too, who had been carting sea-weed, but had dropped -spade and wagon-tongue at sight of Belle, of whom he was very fond; and -then there was such a hugging and kissing, such an interlacing of heads -and arms and feet, that it would have been difficult to tell to which -little person each set belonged. Belle did not object to the smothering -she received; on the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it, and Frankie soon -relieved her from his share, saying in a tone of great importance,-- - -“I have bis-er-ness to ’tend to,” and marched off to his sea-weed. - -“I shall call Newport the ‘Country of Happy Delights’ when I write -about it in the ‘Complete Family,’” said Maggie. “I never _did_ see -such a place. Did you happen here, Belle, or did you know you were -coming?” - -“We happened,” said Belle, “least Daphne and I did; but I think papa -knew we were coming when he brought us.” - -“That was just the way with us,” said Bessie: “all the big people knew -we were coming; but Maggie and I were so glad and surprised. How long -have you been here, Belle?” - -“Oh! about half a year,” said Belle. - -“Why, no,” said Maggie; “for it’s only a month since we left you in New -York.” - -“Is it?” said Belle. “Well, we came last Friday; and then papa brought -me here to see Aunt May. We live in the hotel; but Aunt May says I must -come over every day and play with you. It was so lonesome wifout you,” -and Belle put an arm about the neck of each of her little playmates, -looking from one to the other with loving, satisfied eyes. “You see, -Bessie, I grew to love you and Maggie so much, I can’t very well stay -away from you; and so I wasn’t very patient till you came.” - -“Did you know we were coming?” asked Maggie. - -“Yes, Aunt May told me I was so homesick for you; and papa said he -brought me here so I could see you sooner. Wasn’t it good of him?” - -“Yes,” said Maggie. “Now let’s go and have a good play. Aunt May gave -us pails and spades to play in the sand with, Belle, and I will lend -you mine.” - -But there proved to be no need of this; for Belle had been furnished -with a spade and pail of her own, and Daphne now appeared with them; so -the little girls joined Frankie. - -“What are you doing, Frankie?” asked Belle. - -“Helpin’ Dod,” said Frankie. - -“Why, Frankie!” said Bessie, rather shocked: “it’s not respectful for -you to say you’re helping God. He can do every thing Himself, without -any one to help Him.” - -“Well,” said Frankie, taking up another spadeful of sea-weed and -tossing it into his wagon, “maybe so; but I dess He has too much -trouble to make so much waves, and keep pushing dis sea-weed up all de -time; so I jest putting it a little way farder for Him,” and away he -went with another wagon-load of sea-weed, which he was carting higher -up the beach. - -The three little girls did not know whether to laugh or not; but, -presently, Maggie said,-- - -“I guess we need not be shocked at him. He thinks he’s doing something -right, and we won’t disturb his mind about it. He’s such a funny child.” - -He was a droll fellow, to be sure, that Frankie; always making odd -speeches; and like Maggie in one thing, that one never knew which way -his ideas would turn. Like Maggie, also, he would never allow that he -could not reply to any question which might be put to him; but, if -he had not the right answer, would contrive one which would fit the -occasion more or less well. - -He now came running up to his father, who, with the other gentlemen, -had joined Colonel Rush, and exclaimed eagerly,-- - -“Papa, papa, tome quit. I taught a nassy lobster; let’s tate him to the -house and eat him.” - -This was not a very inviting proposal, certainly; but the little boy -was so anxious that some one should see his “nassy lobster,” that Mr. -Bradford and Mr. Stanton went with him; the little girls also running -to see. - -The “nassy lobster” proved to be one of those ugly shell-fish called -horseshoes, which had been left there by the tide, and which Frankie -had contrived to turn over on its back. He was rather disgusted with -his prize, however, now that he had captured it; and, in spite of his -request that it should be taken home and cooked, looked very scornfully -at it, and pronounced it “degusting as any sing.” - -Talking of cooking his fish had put him in mind that he was hungry, -after his play in the fresh sea-air; and now, coming back and standing -at his father’s knee, he said rather plaintively,-- - -“I wish Jesus was here.” - -“Why, Frankie?” asked Mr. Bradford. - -“’Tause He would dive me some fish and bread lite He did all those many -people,” replied Frankie, who had lately heard the story of Christ -feeding the multitude with the five loaves and two fishes. He was very -fond of Bible stories, this little boy, and liked to apply them to -himself and those about him. - -“Tell me about that, Frankie, while Daphne goes to the house for some -biscuits for you,” said the Colonel; and Frankie repeated in a droll, -but still sweet and simple way, the story of the grand miracle. - -“But how was it that there was enough for so many people when there was -so little food, Frankie?” asked Mr. Powers, wishing to hear what the -child would say. - -The little fellow looked thoughtful for a moment, and stood rubbing -up his hair with his hand; but he was not to be conquered even by -a question hard as this, and presently, seeing a way out of his -difficulty, his face lighted up as he exclaimed,-- - -“Betause our Lord did not dive ’em dood appetites. You ought to know -dat yousef, sir;” and, with this, he ran away to meet Daphne, whom he -saw coming with his wished-for biscuits. - - - - -XIII. - -_LITTLE ACTS OF KINDNESS; LITTLE DEEDS OF LOVE._ - - -Aunt May’s invitation to come every day and play with Maggie and Bessie -was never once lost sight of by Belle, who was only too glad to accept -it, and be with her beloved little playmates as much as possible. - -It was surprising to see how much Belle had improved during these -months she had been so much with Maggie and Bessie: no, not surprising -either to any one who knew how much a good example can do; at least -when it shines before eyes which are willing and ready to profit by its -light. - -And this was so with dear little Belle. She was not naturally an -obstinate or selfish child; and her faults had come chiefly from -the over-indulgence of her father and Daphne, who seldom or never -contradicted her, but allowed her to think that she must always have -her own way. She had never been taught the duty and pleasure of -yielding to others, until she was thrown so constantly with our little -girls; and then the lesson came to her almost without words. She could -not have better teaching than she found in the grave surprise in -Bessie’s sweet eyes when she worried her father, and fretted herself -for some forbidden pleasure, or when she was wilful and imperious with -her devoted old nurse; or in her gentle, “You wouldn’t tease your -father when you’re his little comfort: would you, Belle?” She could not -but learn ready obedience, generosity, and thoughtfulness for others, -when she saw them put in daily practice even by Maggie, who had so much -natural heedlessness to struggle with; and, almost without knowing -it, she strove to copy her little friends, and to put away the old -self-will and impatience. - -“Why! how obedient and good my little daughter is growing,” said her -father, one day, surprised at her ready submission when he was obliged -to refuse her some pleasure she had begged for. - -“’Cause Bessie says mamma and Jesus will be glad when I’m good,” Belle -answered, laying her cheek against her father’s; “and she said that was -the best way to make you happy too, papa. She says when we love um we -try to please um. Isn’t that true, papa?” - -“Very true, my darling. Bessie is a dear little girl, and I am glad -that you remember when she tells you what is right.” - -“She _does_ it more than she _tells_ it, papa: that’s why I ’member so -much. It makes me feel ’shamed when Maggie and Bessie see I am naughty.” - -“I won’t go to Aunt May’s this morning, papa,” she said another day -when her father told her to go and be made ready. - -“What! stay away from your dear Maggie and Bessie?” said Mr. Powers. -“How is that?” - -“Daphne is sick, papa: she has such a hegget”--Belle meant -headache--“she could hardly dress me this morning, and had to lie right -down. If she has to get up again, I’m afraid she will be more worse, so -I will stay home to-day.” - -But Belle’s voice shook as she proposed this, for it was a great -sacrifice for her. Six months since she would not have thought of -denying herself any thing for the sake of her old nurse, and her father -was both pleased and touched. - -“Then papa’s unaccustomed fingers will see what they can do,” he said, -unwilling that his little girl should lose her day’s pleasure; and, if -Belle were not quite as neatly dressed as usual, no fault was found, -and “Aunt Margaret” soon remedied all that was wrong. - -But another bit of self-denial came in Belle’s way that day, and that -she carried out. - -Coming in with two or three bunches of fine hot-house grapes,--the -first of the season,--in his hand, Colonel Rush found the children on -the piazza, playing “party” with their dolls’ teacups and saucers. -Two other little girls, the children of a neighbor, were playing with -them. He stopped and gave Maggie a bunch to divide amongst them. They -were greatly pleased with this little treat; but Maggie and Bessie -were rather surprised to see Belle put hers aside on one of the doll’s -plates, as if she did not intend to eat, or even play with them. - -“Are you not going to play with yours?” asked Maggie, rather -reproachfully. - -Belle colored a little, and said with some hesitation,-- - -“I wanted to save them.” - -Belle was not like some children who would rather enjoy a nice thing by -themselves, and the others were surprised. - -Now Belle would have been ready enough to tell Maggie and Bessie why -she wanted to keep the grapes, but she did not care to do so before the -young visitors; lest as she afterwards said, they should think she was -“proud of herself for doing it.” - -“She thinks we’ll give her some of ours, and then she’ll eat up her own -afterwards,” said Minnie Barlow, one of the little guests. - -“I don’t either,” said Belle, flushing angrily: “I wouldn’t eat one of -your old grapes, not if you begged and begged me to.” - -“No,” said Bessie, putting her arm about Belle’s neck: “Belle never -does greedy things. I know she has a very excellent reason if she don’t -eat them. Are you sick, Belle?” - -“No,” said Belle; and then she whispered in Bessie’s ear, “but poor -Daphne is sick, and I am going to keep my grapes for her. She likes -them very much.” - -“And I’ll give you mine for her too,” said Bessie, “yours make only a -few for her when she is sick.” Then she said aloud: “I’m going to keep -my grapes too; and Maggie, I think you’d keep yours, if you knew the -circumstance.” - -“Then I will,” said Maggie; and turning to the little strangers she -added, “Bessie knows what’s inside of my mind most as well as I do -myself; so if she tells me I would do a thing, I just know I would.” - -So Maggie, too, put by her share of the grapes, till the company had -gone, and Belle felt free to tell what she wanted to do with them; when -she agreed that Bessie was right, and she was quite ready to save her -grapes for such a “circumstance.” It was but a small act of self-denial -for these little girls to make out of their abundance; but who can tell -the pleasure the gift gave to old Daphne. And verily Belle had her -reward. - -“Now Heaven bress my child,” said the old woman, when Belle offered -the grapes, and told that she and her young friends had kept them from -their play: “if she ain’t growin’ jes like her dear mamma, who was -allus thinkin’ for oders.” - -Nothing could have pleased Belle more than to be told she was like her -dear mother; but she said,-- - -“I didn’t used to think for ofers much, Daphne; not till I saw Bessie -do it, and Maggie too. They taught me.” - -“Never min’ who taught ye, so long as you’re willin’ to learn,” said -Daphne. “But I say Heaven bress them dear little girls too, as I knows -it will.” - -Pleased as Daphne was, she would have been better satisfied if her -little mistress had taken back her gift for her own use; but Belle -insisted that she should eat the grapes herself, and indeed climbed on -her lap and stuffed them one after the other into her mouth, refusing -to taste one herself. - -“What is that, Uncle Horace?” asked Maggie, one afternoon when she and -Bessie were out driving on the Avenue with Colonel Rush, Aunt Bessie, -and the boys. - -The object of her interest was certainly of a nature to excite -curiosity. It was a round building of stone, supported by eight -pillars, with open arches between. In the wall, above the pillars, were -three narrow loop-holes or openings. It could scarcely have been told, -however, that it was built of stone; for pillars and round walls were -alike covered with beautiful green vines, just now in all their summer -glory. It stood in the centre of a small park or common, where children -and nurses were playing and wandering about. - -“That,” said Colonel Rush, “is the old stone mill.” - -“I don’t think it looks much like a mill,” said Bessie: “it don’t have -any things to go round.” - -“Probably it had things to go round, as you call them, once upon a -time,” said the Colonel. - -“I thought it was a tower built by the early settlers to defend -themselves from the Indians,” said Harry. “Willie Thorn told me so.” - -“Many people think so,” said the Colonel, “and some still believe that -it was built by the Danes, hundreds of years ago.” - -“Oh!” said Fred, “this is the tower Longfellow wrote about in his -‘Skeleton in Armor,’ isn’t it, sir?” - -“The very same,” said the Colonel; “but, I believe, Fred, that it has -been pretty well proved, from old papers, that it had no such romantic -beginning, but was really and truly a windmill.” - -“Tell me about the skeleton, Fred,” said Maggie. - -So Fred told how a skeleton in armor, having been found in a place -called Fall River, some miles from Newport, the poet, Longfellow, had -written a ballad about it; telling how a viking, or Norwegian sailor of -the olden time, had fallen in love with the daughter of a prince, who -refused to give his child to the roving sailor; but they had run away -together, and crossing the sea had come to this spot, where the viking -had built this tower for his wife to live in. - - “Here for my lady’s bower - Built I the lofty tower, - Which to this very hour - Stands looking seaward,” - -chanted Fred, stretching out his hand with a magnificent air towards -the old tower. - -“That’s nice,” said Maggie, with a satisfied nod of her curly head. “I -shall just believe that. It’s a great deal nicer than to think it was -just a common old windmill for grinding up corn.” - -“I shan’t,” said matter-of-fact Bessie, “not when Uncle Horace says -it’s not true.” - -“I don’t see that any one can be very _sure_ what it was,” said Maggie, -determined to have faith in the most romantic story, “and I shall make -up my mind it was the lady’s bower. But what about the skeleton, Fred?” - -“Oh! Mr. Longfellow goes on to say how the lady died, and her husband -could not bear to live without her; so he went out into the woods and -killed himself, and the skeleton in armor which was really found is -supposed to be his.” - -“He oughtn’t to kill hisse’f. He ought to wait till Dod killed him,” -said Frankie, who had been listening with great interest to the story. -“He could play with all these nice chillen, if he’d ’haved hisself.” - -“Yes,” said Bessie, who had received the story with as much displeasure -as she had done that of the “Chief’s Head,” last summer, at Chalecoo, -“if God chooses people to stay here, they ought to do it, even if they -are having very hard times.” - -“So they ought, Bess,” said Fred; “but I guess those old vikings did -not care much about playing with children. They were very brave, daring -fellows.” - -“People can be brave and like children,” said Bessie, slipping her -little hand into that of her own hero. “Uncle Horace likes children and -plays with them, and no one could be braver than he is. And besides, -Fred, if people have very good courage, I should think they would be -brave to bear the trouble God sends them, and not go kill themselves -out of it.” - -“Well reasoned, little one,” said the Colonel, bending his tall head -to kiss her; “that man is certainly a coward who cannot bear what God -sends to him, but takes the life his Maker has given.” - -“And I shall think it is a windmill,” said Bessie, quite as resolved to -stick to facts as Maggie was to believe the poet’s story. - -“And I shall think it the viking’s tower, and write a story-book about -it when I’m grown up,” said Maggie. “I’ll put it down for a subject.” - -If Maggie lives to write a book on each “subject” she has put down for -that purpose, she will be very old indeed. - -Bessie said no more; for if she and Maggie differed on something which -was not important, she never argued about it, and this was probably one -reason why they never quarrelled; for each was content to let the other -be of her own way of thinking, so long as it did no harm. If we could -all learn that lesson it would save many hard words and thoughts, and -the trouble which arises from such. - -They all now went back to the carriage, which they had left for a -closer view of the old mill, and drove on to what is called the Point, -and around the north-western side of the island, from which road they -gained a beautiful view of the harbor and bay. - -“What is that over there, Uncle Horace?” asked Fred, “it looks like an -old fort.” - -“Just what it is, my boy,” replied Colonel Rush. “That point is -called the ‘Dumpling Rocks,’ and that ruin is old Fort Lewis, or Fort -Dumpling.” - -“What a funny name,” said Maggie. - -They now crossed the long stone causeway which leads to Coaster’s -Harbor Island; and, as they went over this, the children were all -greatly delighted with the number of pretty little birds which went -whirling round them on every side, darting almost under the horses’ -feet, and in their very faces; passing round and round, above and -beneath the carriage. They were sand-martins, the Colonel said, and -being disturbed by the rolling of the wheels, were probably trying to -draw attention from their nests, which were built in the crevices of -the stones that formed the causeway. - -On this island stood the poor-house which they had come to visit; and -here another carriage, containing several of the elders of the party, -had arrived before them. Papa was there and took the little girls out -of the carriage when it stopped. - -“What a nice place for the poor people to be in, when they don’t have -any house of their own!” said Bessie: “I s’pose they’re very grateful -for it.” - -“Well, I don’t know about that,” said Maggie. “I find poor people in -this world are not always grateful when they ought to be. Don’t you -remember Mrs. Bent, Bessie?” - -“Yes, I do,” said Bessie, in a tone which told that Mrs. Bent’s -ingratitude, as she and Maggie thought it, was not to be easily -forgotten. Indeed, the way in which Mrs. Bent had received the gift -of the hospital-bed for her lame boy, had left a very disagreeable -impression on the minds of our two little girls. - -“But I s’pose rich people are not always so grateful as they ought to -be, either,” added Bessie. - -“No,” said Maggie, thoughtfully: “maybe some are not, but I think _we_ -are, generally. I think I feel my blessings, Bessie,--I think I do, -’specially being in Newport.” - -“There can be no doubt about that,” said Uncle Ruthven, who had -overheard this short conversation, to his wife: “if ever there was a -grateful, contented, little heart it is that of our sunny Maggie.” - -Certainly a more comfortable home, or one more beautifully situated, -could scarcely have been found for those who could furnish none for -themselves. The grown people, as well as the children, were greatly -pleased with the order, neatness, and quiet of the whole place. This -visit having been planned, the ladies had come provided with little -parcels of tea, fruit, and other small delicacies, as a treat for some -of the sick and old people. There were a few toys and books also for -such of the children as had behaved well, and these things Maggie and -Bessie were allowed to present. - -“I b’lieve I’ll change my mind about poor people being grateful,” said -Maggie, when she had witnessed the pleasure these trifles gave; “and -I’m glad I can, for an ungrateful person is ‘sharper than a serpent’s -tooth,’ ’specially if it’s an old woman.” - -Bessie looked at her sister in great admiration, as she always did when -Maggie made any of these fine speeches; but Harry turned away lest she -should see him laughing. For as Maggie was so careful of other people’s -feelings, Harry felt bound not to trouble her in that way when he could -avoid it. - -“The band plays at Fort Adams to-morrow afternoon,” said the Colonel, -as they drove homeward: “who will be for a drive over there?” - -There was no want of assenting voices; and, the next afternoon, the -whole family went over to the fort,--some driving, some on horseback, -Mr. Powers and Belle being of the party this time. - -Maggie and Bessie had never in their lives been inside of a fort, -so that this was quite an event to them. Harry and Fred had visited -several; but they were all much smaller than Fort Adams, which indeed -is the second in size in the country, only Fortress Monroe being -larger. Passing around the road, which runs between the water and the -immense earthworks which rise above it, they entered the fort beneath -a stone arch, and over a stone pavement on which the horses’ feet rang -with a loud clatter. Just without this gateway, was the guard-house, -a low stone building, with grated door and loop-holes, where drunken -soldiers, and those who have broken the rules, are confined. Two or -three sullen-looking men were peeping through the iron bars of the -door, for whom Bessie’s tender little heart was much moved; but Maggie -was afraid of them, and turned her face away, though they could not -possibly have hurt her, and probably had no will to do so. - -Within the fort, the children were much astonished at the number -of enormous cannon, and at the great black balls and shells piled -together in pyramids upon the green in the centre, and beneath the -casemates. The side of the fort next the water was entirely taken up -with these warlike-looking arrangements; while on the inner side were -the officers’ quarters, or little houses where they lived, and the -soldiers’ barracks and mess-rooms. All was neat, clean, and orderly; -and, in spite of the purpose for which it was intended, the whole -place had a bright, cheerful look. The band were playing delightful -music on the green, and the drive was filled with gay equipages. The -handsome carriages, fine horses, and beautifully dressed ladies and -children, made it a pretty and lively scene, and it was all so new to -the children, that each moment some exclamation of pleasure or wonder -escaped them. Some of the officers were sauntering about, talking to -their acquaintances; and the general who commanded the fort, being -a friend of Colonel Rush, came and asked the ladies and children to -alight from the carriages, and he would show them over the works. They -were glad to accept his invitation, and the general took them over the -fort, and explained all that was interesting. - -But in spite of the many new and curious things she saw, in spite of -the lovely music, and the merry crowd, Bessie’s mind was full of the -“poor, naughty soldiers in the prison;” and when her older friends were -resting in the general’s quarters, while she with the other children -stayed without and watched the gay scene, she went quietly to Belle and -said,-- - -“Belle, dear, don’t you feel rather bad about those soldiers shut up in -that prison place?” - -“Not when I don’t see ’em,” answered Belle. “I guess they were pretty -naughty to be put in there.” - -“May be so,” said Bessie; “but wouldn’t you like to be kind to them?” - -“No,” said Belle. “I b’lieve not. One of them looked so cross.” - -“Maybe it makes him cross to be shut up there when the music is -playing, and every thing is so nice out here,” said Bessie. “Let’s go -and ask them if they will promise to be good if they are let out.” - -“We can’t let them out,” said Belle. - -“No; but we’ll tell some one they have repented and ask for them to -be let out. You know that soldier with a gun, that was walking up and -down there? well, I guess he’s a kind of soldier-policeman and we’ll -ask him. The prison is just outside of that gate-hole,” said Bessie, -pointing to the archway by which the fort was entered; “and we will be -back in a moment.” - -“Shall we ask Maggie to go?” said Belle. - -“No, Maggie was so frightened at them. She is over there with Harry, -looking at those ugly black balls; so we won’t ’sturb her, but just go -by ourselves.” - -So, hand in hand, the two little things ran out under the archway, -and over to the guard-house beyond. Not unnoticed, however; for -though they were not seen by their own friends, they were by some -acquaintances, who were driving past at the moment, and who, fearing -that they might be run over by the constantly passing carriages, or -fall into some other mischief, told Colonel Rush’s servants to see -after the children. One of the men called his master, and the Colonel -speedily followed the little runaways. - -They made for the grated door, with what purpose Bessie hardly knew -herself, save that there was kindness in her heart for the poor -prisoners; but, as they reached it, the guard or “soldier-policeman,” -as Bessie called him, stopped them by crossing his musket in their way. - -Belle was frightened,--partly by this, partly by the two or three -astonished faces that peeped at them through the bars,--and would have -drawn back, but Bessie stood her ground, and, looking up at the guard -with her innocent, serious eyes, said,-- - -“We only want to speak to the poor shut-up soldiers.” - -The man shook his head. - -“It’s against the rules, miss,” he said. - -“But I’m not in rules,” said Bessie. “I don’t live here you know, and I -think I might do it. If you were in prison you would like some one to -coax you to be good: wouldn’t you?” - -The soldier looked at her in astonished silence; but his gun still -barred the way. - -“You’ll let them out, won’t you?” she went on with pleading voice and -eyes: “you’ll let them out so they can come in there where there is -such sweet music, and it is all nice and bright? I think they are sorry -now.” - -“Yes,” said Belle: “see that poor fellow sitting on the floor with his -head down. I’m sure he is sorry, and will be good, and the ofers will -too.” - -While the little girls were speaking, two more soldiers had come round -from the other side of the guard-house. One of them was the corporal; -and, hearing what the children said, he answered for the sentry. - -“He can’t let them out, little ladies,” he said: “if he did he’d be put -there himself.” - -As he finished speaking, Colonel Rush stood behind the children. The -corporal and the soldiers, even the men behind the grating, saluted the -brave English officer, whom they knew by sight, and whom they greatly -admired; for the story of his daring and courage were known to the -garrison. But the third man, who was hardly more than a lad, still sat -with his arms folded, and his head sunk upon his breast. - -“My dear children,” said the Colonel, “this is no place for you. What -brought you here?” - -“Oh! Uncle Horace,” said Bessie, seizing upon his hand; “won’t you ask -these policemen-soldiers to let out those poor prisoners? We feel so -badly about them.” - -“My darling,” answered the Colonel, “they cannot let out these men. -They are under arrest, and shut up here because they have done wrong, -and the guard are here to keep them from getting out.” - -“But see that poor soldier sitting down there,” said Bessie: “he looks -so sorry. Maybe, he’s thinking of somebody of his, far away, who will -hear he has been in prison, and feel badly about it.” - -In her earnestness, she was using every argument she could think of; -but she had innocently touched almost the only soft spot in the man’s -heart. If he was not at the moment thinking of “somebody of his” -who was far away, her words brought the thought of that one to his -mind,--that “somebody,” his poor young sister, who would be grieved at -his disgrace, hurt at his obstinate wrong-doing, if it ever came to her -ears. - -He raised his head, and gave a quick glance at the innocent little -pleader; and a softened look came over the hard, sullen face. - -“He’s not sorry, but just sullen, little lady,” said the corporal: -“that fellow has been in the guard-house four times in the last week, -for insubordination, and they’ll have to try some harder measures to -take it out of him, I’m thinking. Your pity is only wasted.” - -“Oh, no!” said Bessie; “for you know Jesus said we must be sorry with -people when they are in trouble, and happy with them when they are -glad. I’m _very_ sorry for him and the other men too. Who can let them -out, Uncle Horace?” - -“Only their officers, Bessie; and I fear they must stay here now till -their time is up: but we will hope they will do better in future, -and not deserve punishment again. Come away now: your mother will be -anxious.” - -Bessie obeyed; but both she and Belle cast backward pitying looks at -the poor prisoners. The man they had noticed most, still sat silent; -but the other two, as well as the soldiers without, talked with -pleasure and amusement of their pretty ways and innocent simplicity. - -But the man who had seemed to pay little or no regard to their words -was the one who remembered them the longest, and to whom they brought -the most good. He had been hard, obstinate, and disobedient, and, as -the corporal said, had been punished four times during the last week. -Punishment and persuasion had alike proved useless in bringing him to -do better; but he was softened now. He could not resist that sweet -little face, the pitying eyes and gentle tones that asked for his -release. He thought of them, and of that “somebody of his,” all that -night as he lay upon the hard floor of the guard-house; and, when he -was set free in the morning, went to his commanding officer whom he -had disobeyed and insulted; asked forgiveness, and promised that he -would try not to offend again. And he kept his word, striving hard -with himself for he always felt, from this time, as if there were two -“somebodies” who would be grieved to hear of his bad behavior and -disgrace. - -“Who could let them out, Uncle Horace?” repeated Bessie as the Colonel -led her and Belle away. - -“Only the officer who ordered them to be shut up, dear,” said the -Colonel. - -“And couldn’t we ask him?” said Bessie. - -“Not very well, dear: the rules in the army must be strictly kept; -and if these men were let out without good reason, it would be a bad -example for the other soldiers, who might think they would not be -punished if they were disobedient.” - -“But what had that man on the floor been doing?” asked Belle. - -“I do not know, dear. Misbehaving in some way which deserved -punishment.” - -“The soldier-policeman said he had been shut up four times -for--for--in--su--such a long word I can’t remember it, Uncle Horace, -and I didn’t know what it meant,” said Bessie. - -“Insubordination?” said the Colonel. - -“Yes, sir: what does it mean?” - -“Disobeying orders, or being impertinent, and so forth,” said the -Colonel. - -“And we’d better not ask the General to let them come out of that dark -house?” said Belle. - -“No, I think not,” said the Colonel. “They would not have been shut up -if it had not been necessary, and we had better let the matter rest. We -can do no good by interfering.” - -So thought the Colonel, believing and knowing that discipline must -be sternly kept up; knowing nothing the while of the good which had -already been done,--of the tiny seed unconsciously dropped upon the -hard and stony ground of an obstinate heart, but which had brought -“forth fruit meet for repentance.” - -This was by no means Bessie’s last visit to Fort Adams; but she never -saw the prisoner soldiers again, at least she did not recognize them; -but they saw and knew her, the innocent little fairy, so she seemed to -these rough men, who had stood outside the prison bars, pleading so -pityingly for their release. - - - - -XIV. - -_WATER-LILIES._ - - -One great object of delight and interest to the children was the -immense number of robins around Newport. These pretty, saucy, little -birds were constantly to be seen hopping about the soft, velvety -lawns for which this place is famous; picking up whatever crumbs fell -in their way, or such unwary worms and caterpillars as had ventured -forth for air and exercise; swinging on the branches of the trees, or -perched with an independent, look-at-me sort of an air, upon the fences -and railings; shaking down showers of diamond dew-drops from slender -sprays, in the early morning; charming all ears with their sweet notes; -welcome guests whenever and wherever they came. - -The first thing done by the children after breakfast, was each morning -to beg for crumbs and bits of bread to feed the robins, who would come -hopping close to the piazza to receive the welcome gift. Even Baby -Annie must throw out her share, and would hold up her tiny little -finger to keep off any one who, she feared, would disturb the birds, -saying,-- - -“Ss, ss, badie fy,” which meant, “Hush, hush, birdie fly.” - -Then there was the bathing in the sea, now as formerly, such a source -of pleasure to Bessie. Maggie, too, enjoyed it, for she had lost all -fear of the waves while she was at Quam Beach. It afforded endless -amusement, too, to Maggie, to see the droll figures presented by the -bathers when they were dressed for their dip in the sea. Her merry, -ringing laugh provoked smiles not only from lookers-on, but from the -very wearers themselves; for there was no rudeness or unkindness in -that laugh, and she was quite as much diverted at her own appearance as -she was at that of others. - -From nine to twelve, the beach was generally crowded with bathers; some -coming from the water, others going from the line of bathing-houses -towards it; others still, in every color and style of dress, bobbing up -and down in the waves. There were carriages driving back and forth over -the yielding sand; many walkers, too,--people who came only to look at -the bathers, or who were moving about after their own bath. The beach -was a merry, lively place, where there was never a lack of “something -to do;” for the children always brought their little pails and shovels -with them, and when their frolic in the water was over, they would -dig in the sand, or pick up small shells. Sometimes they would watch -the clam-fishers turning over the sea-weed with their long-pronged -instruments, or sail bits of wood and light scallop-shells down the -pretty, shallow stream of fresh water; which, running from the pond -beyond, and crossing the beach near its upper end, mingles its pure -waters with the salt waves of the sea. - -There was a story connected with this beach, told by Mr. Bradford to -his children,--a story strange and romantic enough to satisfy even -Maggie’s love of the marvellous, yet perfectly true. - -One fine, bright morning, more than a hundred years ago, a vessel -was seen coming down directly towards the beach, where no vessel had -ever been known to venture before. Her sails were all set, her colors -flying; and the alarmed spectators watched her with the most painful -interest, expecting each instant to see her dashed to pieces upon the -rocks. But no: on she came safely; past craggy points and over hidden -reefs, and struck her keel into the soft sand of the beach. No person -was seen on board; and, when the anxious townspeople reached her decks, -the only living creature there was a dog. A cat was found in the cabin, -where coffee was boiling, and other preparations made for breakfast; -but not a sailor was to be seen. What became of her crew was never -known: but it was supposed, that, finding themselves too near the -rocks, they took to the life-boat, which was missing, and were lost; -while the vessel came safely to land, without hand or eye to guide her. - -Beyond this beach, a most lovely drive, with the ocean in view all the -way, leads to Purgatory and Paradise. The former is a great gulf or -chasm in the solid rock of the point or bluff which separates the first -from the second beach; a dark, gloomy-looking place, from which Maggie, -Bessie, and Belle drew back in alarm, without the least desire to look -down. Neither did they like to hear the stones which the boys threw -into the cleft, and which went bounding with a dull sound, from side to -side, till they plunged sullenly into the dark waters below. - -Reckless Fred ventured too near the edge, where a slip upon the short -grass, or a stray pebble would have sent him down into the dark -abyss. The Colonel drew him back with no gentle hand, and a sharp -reprimand, all of which made the little girls still more ready to seek -a pleasanter spot. - -“For,” said Maggie, in a tone of great wisdom, “I don’t think it is -at all prudent to come into places where one can be killed with such -felicity.” - -Maggie meant facility. - -Paradise, as might be supposed, proved much more attractive. This is -a succession of lovely groves and mossy glades lying below and on the -sides of a rocky hill, and as great a contrast as can be imagined to -its neighbor, Purgatory. - -But the place which the children loved the best, and where they spent -the most of their time, was the lovely little beach lying just below -the bluff on which stood Colonel Rush’s house. Here, too, they often -bathed, instead of driving over to the larger and more frequented -beach; and here they might be found at almost every hour of the day. -Here Bessie would sit, forgetting her play, as she watched the blue -billows with their crests of white foam, rolling up one after the other -on the smooth sands, and listening to the chiming sound of the waves, -the grand music of old ocean sounding ceaselessly, and speaking to all -hearts, that will hear, of the power and goodness of the Almighty hand -which holds it in its place. - -Even in bad weather, when she could not go out, the sea afforded -endless pleasure to Bessie; for she could sit at the window watching -it, as the waves, lashed into fury by the wind, rushed foaming and -dashing over the rocks and reefs, and sometimes even flung their spray -above the edge of the cliff on which the house stood. - -And sitting here one day, looking out from her perch over the stormy -waters, the leaping waves, and foam-covered rocks, she was the first to -observe, and call all the family to see a spectacle which they had long -desired to witness. - -This was the famous Spouting Rock in full play. - -At a little distance from Colonel Rush’s house was a ledge of rocks, -the under side of which has been worn into deep caverns by the -constant fretting of the waves. One of them has an open shaft, or -sort of natural chimney, which ends on the surface of the rock. In -stormy weather, when the wind has blown for some time in a particular -direction, the sea rushes with great power into these caverns, and -forces itself up through the spout or chimney, often to a great height. -But this does not happen very often, and one may spend months, perhaps -years, at Newport, without ever seeing it. - -All of Mr. Bradford’s children, and indeed the grown people of the -party as well, had been very anxious to see this singular sight; and -when Bessie, sitting by the window, and looking over towards these -rocks, saw a jet of water forcing itself above them, she knew at once -what it was, and called out eagerly,-- - -“Oh, the horn is horning! it is really horning; come and see, -everybody.” - -The horn spouted all that day, and the children never tired of -looking at it; and Frankie, when he was asked if he knew what it was, -answered,-- - -“I dess it is Dod’s fountain,” than which no answer could have been -truer. - -Not very far from Colonel Rush’s house, lay a calm, lovely lake, called -Lily Pond, separated from the ocean only by a narrow belt of land, and -making a striking contrast to the rolling billows of the ocean so near. - -As may be supposed, the lake is named from the number of water-lilies -with which it is covered during the season when these exquisite flowers -are in bloom. They fill the air with their delicious fragrance; and -the delicate, pearly, white blossoms are seen by all the passers-by, -resting among their green leaves on the surface of the water. - -Bessie’s mother, and Bessie herself, were both extremely fond of these -lovely flowers; and when Harry came in one day with two which he had -fished up from their watery bed with some trouble to himself, great was -the rejoicing over them. - -The next afternoon, Maggie and Bessie were out driving with Mrs. Rush -and Aunt Bessie, when they came upon a boy and girl, perched upon a -fence at the side of the road, and having a basket half-filled with -water-lilies. - -“Water-lilies! oh, water-lilies!” cried Bessie; “where did they gather -so many I wonder. Could we find some for dear mamma, do you think, Aunt -May?” - -“I think those children have them for sale: we can buy some from them,” -said Mrs. Rush; and she ordered the coachman to stop. - -“But we have left all our money at home,” said Maggie, in a tone of -regret. - -“Well, I will buy them, and you may give them to mamma,” said Mrs. Rush. - -“But that is not at all the same, Aunt May,” said Bessie: “it would -only be pretend our present.” - -“Suppose I lend you the money. You may give it back to me if you like, -as soon as you go home.” - -So Maggie and Bessie each bought a bunch of water-lilies from the boy -and girl, who had come down from the fence and now stood beside the -carriage, and Aunt May purchased the rest, leaving the basket empty. - -The girl tossed her basket above her head, and, after thanking the -ladies, bounded across the road and over the fence on the other side, -making for Lily Pond as if she were after a fresh supply. The boy -followed more slowly. - -“I wonder why they sell lilies,” said Maggie: “they do not look so very -poor. At least they’re not ragged and dirty, though the girl has a -pretty ugly frock.” - -“If I was poor and had to make some money, I would choose to be a -water-lily girl,” said Bessie; “and I would try to be so polite, and -ask so nicely, that people would like to buy of me.” - -“I do not think people would be very apt to refuse you, my lily girl,” -said Aunt Bessie, with a loving look at the sweet little face before -her, which was bent over the lovely white blossoms, not purer than -itself. - -“I would like to paddle in and pick the lilies,” said Maggie; “but I -would not like to sit on top of a fence, waiting for people to come and -buy my flowers: it must be so stupid.” - -“The boy looks as if he were better able to do that than to pick the -lilies,” said Mrs. Rush. “He has an interesting, thoughtful face, but -looks delicate.” - -“My anxiety is all upsidedown about him,” said Maggie. “Maybe he -wants money to pay a doctor. Bessie, when we go out to walk to-morrow -morning, let’s ask nurse to come this way, and see if we can find these -children. Maybe we could help them a little. We must have a whole lot -of charity money, for you know we have not had much use for it on our -travels.” - -Accordingly, the next morning the children waited for Belle; and, -as soon as she came, the whole flock started with Mammy and Jane on -the road towards Lily Pond, the little girls having taken care to be -provided with money. They found the boy and girl, not sitting on top of -the fence this time, but near the lake; the boy lying flat upon a rock -with a book in his hand, the girl sitting beside him, busy shelling -pease. - -They looked up as our party drew near, and the girl said with a pleased -look,-- - -“Oh! it’s the little girls who bought all the lilies yesterday.” - -“Yes, it is us,” said Maggie. “Have you more to sell us to-day? We -meant to buy a whole lot, and have brought a basket in baby’s wagon.” - -“We haven’t picked any to-day,” said the boy: “we don’t generally -gather them till later, when it’s time for the gentle-folks to come -riding this way; but we can get some for you right away. In a few days, -when they’re more plenty, there’ll be lots of fellows up here after -them; but they mostly take them down to the beach and around the town -to sell.” - -“We have a little pond of our own, where there are a few,” said the -girl; “but we get most off of this one.” - -“Where do you live?” asked Belle. - -“Over yonder,” said the girl, pointing to a small farm-house standing -among its out-buildings on the other side of the road. “Now, Johnny, -I’m ready.” - -Johnny went a few steps off, where the bushes grew thickly, and drew -from among them two long, hooked sticks. One of these he gave to -the girl, and kept the other in his own hand. While they had been -talking, the girl had pulled off her shoes and stockings; and now, to -the surprise of all the children, she waded into the water, while her -brother stayed upon the rock, without offering to follow. - -Sallie, so he called her, stepped out till the water touched her knees; -and having gathered such lilies as she could reach with her hand, drew -others towards her with the hooked stick. The long, slender stems -yielded easily; and, as she plucked one after another, she tossed them -towards her brother, who drew them in with his own stick. - -How lovely and delicious they were, just fresh from their watery -bed, with the drops still glittering like diamonds on the rich, -creamy-white petals! how they filled the whole air with their fragrance! - -“I think if I could carry flowers to heaven, I would like to take -these,” whispered Bessie to Maggie and Belle, as all three hung -delighted over their prize. “They look as if they were very large stars -fallen down out of God’s sky, to tell us how sweet every thing is -there.” - -“O Bessie, you darling!” said Maggie. “What a lovely idea! That’s good -enough to put in a book. Bessie, do you know that is talking prose?” - -“What is prose?” asked Belle. - -“You know what rhyme is,” said Maggie. - -“Yes,” said Belle: “it means cat and hat, and mouse and house, and mean -and queen.” - -“That’s right,” said Maggie. “Well, if you say a nice thing in rhyme, -that’s poetry; but if you say it in unrhyme, then it’s prose.” - -“Oh!” said Belle, quite satisfied with Maggie’s explanation. “I wish I -were as smart as you two. You write poetry, Maggie; and Bessie can talk -prose: and I can’t do either.” - -“Never mind,” said Maggie, consolingly. “Maybe you’ll be able to some -day.” - -“And you’re just good enough for us, any way,” said Bessie, with an -affectionate kiss to her little friend; an example which was followed -by Maggie. - -“Why don’t you go in the water, and let your sister stay out?” said -Belle to Johnny, rather reprovingly. - -Johnny, who was a gentle-looking boy, colored a little, but answered -quietly,-- - -“They say I ought not to wet my feet, and I want to keep well very -much.” - -“Yes,” said Sallie, who had just stepped out of the water, and was -wringing out her dripping skirts: “it don’t hurt me to go in the water; -but it’s not good for him.” - -“Are you sick?” asked Bessie. - -“No,” said Johnny, looking as if he thought the little girls were -blaming him in their own minds for not taking the wetting himself, as -indeed they were. - -“He’s not just sick,” said Sallie; “but he’s not just strong, and we’re -bound he shall go to school this winter, at least for one quarter. He’s -an awful fellow for his books and learning.” - -“Will one quarter make him too sick to go any more?” asked Bessie. - -“Oh! I didn’t mean that,” said Sallie, sitting down on the rock, and -spreading out her wet feet and dress to dry in the sun; “but, you see, -we’re not sure we’ll put by enough money even to pay for one quarter. -Shall I tell you about it?” she added, seeing her little customers -looked interested. - -“Yes,” said Bessie. - -“Well, as I said, Johnny’s such a fellow for book learning, and he’s -smart too; and these two winters he’s tried hard for going to the -Common School down in the town; but it’s a terrible long walk, and so -cold; and both years he’s been taken down sick, and had to give it up; -and the doctor told father he was not to try it again. But there’s a -young man lives just round the turn of the road who is learning to be -a minister, and he’s ready to teach a few boys if they pay him for it; -and father said he couldn’t afford to pay a dollar this winter, for -it’s been a bad year with him; but he said we might keep all we could -make ourselves to pay for Johnny’s schooling; but I don’t know as we’re -likely to put by even enough for one quarter. So that’s the reason, you -see, why I go in the water. I’m hearty, but Johnny takes cold easy, and -then he coughs.” - -“Yes, ‘one man’s meat is another man’s poison,’” said Maggie. “Well, -you’re a good girl and a dutiful sister.” - -“We’ll buy water-lilies of you every day,” said Bessie, “so we can help -along. But we don’t come this way every day,” she added, thoughtfully. - -“We could bring them to you, if you liked,” said Johnny. “We do take -them every day to a lady down yonder,” and he pointed in the direction -of the bluff on which Colonel Rush’s house stood, with several others. - -This was agreed upon; and the nurse, saying they must be moving -homeward, as it was time to go to the beach and bathe, they said -good-by to Johnny and Sallie. - -“I’ve a plan in my head,” said Maggie; “but then, I’ve learned -experience by a very bad lesson, so I thought I’d better not mention it -till I’ve advised with mamma.” - -Maggie’s bad lesson was this,-- - -One day, just before they left home for the Southern trip, Maggie was -standing on the front stoop, waiting for her mother and Bessie, with -whom she was going out, when a poor-looking man spoke to her. He told -a most pitiful story; and Maggie, full of sympathy, emptied her little -purse into his hand. But this did not satisfy the beggar; and he asked -“if the little lady had not an old coat to give a poor soldier.” - -“I’ll ask mamma,” said Maggie, and off she rushed upstairs, leaving the -beggar-man standing on the stoop by the open hall-door. - -Mamma said she could not give old clothes away, unless she was sure the -man was deserving: for she knew of many such who needed them; and told -Maggie to go back at once and tell Patrick to shut the door, and she -would see the man when she came down. - -But when Maggie reached the foot of the stairs, the beggar was gone. So -far from waiting for the old coat, it was soon found that he had walked -off with a new one of papa’s, which lay on the hall table. - -Poor Maggie was excessively mortified, and much distressed, not only -at the loss of the coat, but at that of her little stock of spending -money. Mamma made the last good to her; but told her she should not do -so again if she acted without thought; and begged her to take counsel -of some older person when she felt inclined to help those she did not -know. - -So Maggie had “learned experience,” and since that time had been -careful to ask advice before she allowed her sympathies to run too far -with her. - - - - -XV. - -“_OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN._” - - -They all bathed on the little beach near home that morning; and, as -soon as they had gone back to the house, Maggie called Bessie and -Belle, and they went together to mamma’s room to unfold Maggie’s plan -and ask her consent to it. - -What a pretty room that was! Mrs. Rush had taken a fancy to call it the -“Lily Room,” and to furnish it accordingly. The carpet was green, and -the furniture painted the same color, and ornamented with water-lilies -wherever they could be put,--on the head and foot boards of the bed, on -each drawer of the dressing bureaus, on the panels of the wardrobe and -the backs of the chairs, in short, wherever there was room for them. -Over the mantelpiece hung an oil-painting of the same lovely flowers; -and now the room was filled with the natural blossoms brought in by the -little girls that morning. - -Mamma lay upon the couch,--this was covered with chintz printed with -water-lilies, too,--resting after her salt-water bath. Her long hair -was spread over the cushions to dry; and Maggie and Bessie were busy at -it in a moment: it was their great delight to comb it and thread their -fingers through it; and dearly mamma loved to feel their little hands -twisting it into all manner of fantastic braids and loops. - -Maggie told her story about the water-lily boy and girl, and then, -saying that she thought there must be a good deal of “glove money” due -the little box at home, asked her mother if she did not think it would -be a “reasonable charity” to pay for Johnny’s schooling next winter. - -Bessie looked surprised at this; but Belle clapped her hands, saying,-- - -“You’ll let me help too, won’t you?” - -“But,” said Mrs. Bradford, “I thought you were saving that money for -another purpose.” - -“Oh, so we _were_,” said Maggie, biting her underlip; “if I didn’t -forget it. What a child I am! always forgetting one thing in another.” - -“What is it?” asked Belle. - -“To buy a warm cloak and a pair of better _spetacles_ for good Mrs. -Granby, who is always being kind to other people, and never thinks -about herself,” said Bessie. - -“And I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to put by a person we’ve known -for so long for people we’re hardly acquainted with, only through -water-lilies,” said Maggie. “Oh! I wish, I wish, I wish I had the -greatest lots of money that ever were seen, so I could give every one -every thing they wanted.” - -Maggie was always wishing for lots of money; but it is only justice to -her to say that it was generally for the benefit of others, and not for -herself. - -“Did you promise Mrs. Granby?” asked Belle. - -“No, we did not promise, not with words,” said Bessie; “but then, we -made up our minds to do it, and we wouldn’t like not to. I think it -would seem a little like not being very true in our hearts to Mrs. -Granby.” - -“Oh, dear!” said Maggie, “there are such lots of things one wants to -do; but somehow, one can’t seem to do every thing.” - -“Mamma,” said Bessie, “don’t you think papa would like to help this -boy? He has enough of money.” - -“My dear child,” said mamma, laughing: “you must not think there is -no end to papa’s money. He has a good many people to help now, and he -cannot do for every one, you know.” - -“Well, then,” said Maggie, “we’ll tell Uncle Ruthven and the Colonel, -and see what they will do. I don’t mean we’ll ask them to help the lily -boy; but we’ll just let them know about him, and then leave it to their -own conscience.” - -“Uncle Ruthven has a good deal of conscience about poor people; and so -has Uncle Horace too,” said Bessie. - -But somehow the children could not find an opportunity to tell their -uncle and Colonel Rush about the “lily boy.” For the next few days -there was a good deal of company coming and going, and they did not -care to talk about it before strangers; then papa, Uncle Ruthven, and -the Colonel went off yachting, and stayed a week. - -Meanwhile, Johnny and Sallie came to the house every morning, bringing -their basket of lilies; and when the little girls had bought as many -as they wanted for their daily gift to their mother, Mrs. Rush and the -other ladies would purchase the remainder. So Maggie and Bessie knew -that they were helping Johnny towards his heart’s desire in this way, -even if they had devoted their “charity money” to another object. - -Early on the morning after the gentlemen had returned, the children had -gone down to the sands, and were playing happily together, when Belle -came on her daily visit. Belle considered herself almost as much at -home in Mrs. Rush’s house as Maggie and Bessie did. - -“You live at the Ocean House, don’t you?” asked a little girl one day. - -“Oh, no!” said Belle; “I don’t live there. I only sleep there, and eat -my breakfast there. I live at Aunt May’s, even when it rains, Maggie -and Bessie and I can’t do wifout oneanofer.” - -She now came running swiftly over the beach towards Maggie and Bessie; -and, as soon as she had kissed them for good-morning, said eagerly,-- - -“O Maggie and Bessie! what do you fink? It is my birfday next week, and -papa told me to choose what he should give me, and I can’t think of any -thing I want. Do you know any thing I want?” - -“Well, no,” said Maggie. “I think you have about every thing a -sensible child could want. I can’t remember a single thing; and that -is rather a bad business not to have some thing you _want_ for your -birthday present. I think, after all, maybe it is a better economy not -to have all you want; but to save up your wishes, so you can think of -something when any person tells you to choose a present.” - -Maggie said this with her wiseacre air, and Belle and Bessie listened -with solemn admiration, believing it to be a speech containing a great -deal of wisdom; nor, indeed, do I know that they were far wrong. - -“How much is your father going to cost for your present?” asked Bessie. - -“I asked him that,” said Belle; “and he said that ’pended on what -I wanted. He said if it was a locket or necklace, or any thing that -would keep till I was a big girl, he would not mind giving a good deal -of money for it, he had to give me a present from mamma and himself -too; but if it was only a toy I could break or be tired of in a little -while, it would not be right to frow away much money on it. That is -just what he said. I ’member it very well. But I don’t want a locket -or those kind of things, there’s a whole lot of my own mamma’s pretty -things I can have when I’m a big girl. Papa is keeping them for me, -and I like those best. And I can’t think of a toy, not one;” and Belle -looked quite melancholy over her want of wants. - -“Yes,” said Maggie again, “I b’lieve you have every thing in the world -a child could want.” - -“Not my mamma,” said Belle, with the touch of sadness which always came -over her when she thought or spoke of her dead mother. - -“Dear Belle,” said Maggie, tenderly. “But then God gives us our mammas; -and I only meant things that earth people could give you.” - -“And, Belle, darling,” said Bessie, “your mamma is yours yet, even if -she has gone to Jesus! It is only that she is more of Jesus’s, and He -is more of hers now she is in His home with Him.” - -Belle wiped away the tears which had gathered in her eyes; and then, -with Bessie’s arm about her neck, and Maggie holding her hand, sat -gazing up into the cloudless, blue sky, almost as if she expected to -see the face of her “angel-mother” looking down with tender love upon -her. - -They all three sat silent for a few moments. The waves--they were -hardly more than wavelets, on this still, calm day--came up with their -gentle murmur upon the beach; and there was a sort of golden haze upon -the sea, and far off on the horizon, telling, perhaps, of a coming fog -later in the day: but the sky was clear above them now, and all was -bright and fair around. - -The quiet and the peace stole into all three little hearts,--God’s -peace, which He gives to those who love and trust in Him, and who -strive to do His work, and bear His will, with simple faith that He -knows best, and will order all things right. - -Old Daphne and Jane, each with her work, sat at a little distance, but -did not interfere with the children more than to see they did not -run into any danger; and were occupied with their own conversation, -the burden of which, on Daphne’s side, was the extreme loveliness and -sweetness of her young mistress; while each story that she told of -Belle’s goodness and smartness was immediately matched with one from -Jane of the wisdom and droll sayings of her particular young charge. -Each bird sang loud in praise of her own nestling; but the little birds -themselves neither heard nor heeded. - -“Belle,” said Bessie, after a little, “a thought came into my mind just -now; no, not into my _mind_ either. I guess it was into my _heart_, it -was such a thought of love.” - -“What was it?” asked Belle, looking as if all thoughts of love were in -_her_ heart towards the dear Bessie. - -“About your mamma,” said Bessie. “You know your papa said he had to -give you a present from her. I just thought if maybe you wouldn’t like -to have her present something that by and by would be fit to go back to -heaven like a jewel for our Father.” - -“Yes, I would,” answered Belle, to whom the oft-repeated, -oft-referred-to story was nearly as familiar and as dear as it was to -Maggie and Bessie. “Yes, I would; but what thing could I ask for that -would be like that? If you want any thing or Maggie, I’ll ask papa for -it, and give it to you, liever than to have it myself, you’re so dear -and good to me. I would, Bessie.” - -“Oh, no, Belle!” said Bessie. “I never would _hint_ you to give me a -thing. Mamma says that is not a nice thing to do; and I was thinking of -something better than that, something that would be a great, great help -to some one, and last a great, great while, maybe for ever.” - -“Well,” said Belle, “why don’t you tell me what it is? You know I -don’t have a great deal of _think_ in me to find out how to do good for -ofers; but I b’lieve I have some _do_ in me when I know how.” - -“Yes, you have,” said Maggie, “and some day you’ll learn how to think -for yourself. You see you have not been quite so much brought up to it -as we have. That’s the mercy of having such a papa and mamma as ours.” - -“Well,” said Belle rather hurt, “my papa is very such too, and I’d -rafer have him than any papa.” - -“Oh, yes!” said Maggie quickly, seeing that she had made a mistake, -and hastening to heal the wound she had unintentionally given; “to be -sure you would, and I didn’t mean the least discompliment to your papa, -Belle; but you know he has had a great deal of trouble, and so has not -had time to teach you so much as our papa and mamma have taught us.” - -“Yes, I know it,” said Belle, quite satisfied with this apology; “but -tell me now, Bessie, I can’t think what you mean.” - -“Water-lily boy,” said Bessie, willing to give Belle the credit of -thinking out the matter for herself. - -Belle looked puzzled. - -“Lily boy, Johnny, school,” said Bessie, helping her along. - -“Oh!” said Belle, as Bessie’s meaning came to her, “do you mean I could -ask papa to give the money for Johnny to go to school next winter?” - -“Yes, dear,” said Bessie; “and it’s partly your mamma’s present it -would seem as if you and she were doing good together, and as if the -help for Johnny came from heaven.” - -“Bessie! oh, you precious love!” burst forth Maggie. “You need never -say another word about my having good ideas. If I have ideas about -compositions and things, you have a great deal better ones about -living. I never did see such a child as you are,--no, never; and I hope -I never will: one of such a kind as you are is quite enough for _me_;” -and Maggie, after gazing at her sister with an air of the most intense -pride and satisfaction, threw her arms about her neck and kissed her. -“Don’t you think that is lovely, Belle?” she said; “and don’t you want -to do it?” - -But little Belle sat silent for a moment, her eyes raised again towards -her dear mother’s home, her hands clasped, and a gentle, happy smile on -her lips. - -Then she spoke, with that same, soft smile, and with a peaceful light -in her eyes. - -“I was just saying a little prayer inside of my mouf,” she said, “to -ask Jesus to make papa feel like doing it, so dear mamma and I can do -some work for Him togefer. And papa will be helping too, all fee of us -togefer,” added the dear little thing, to whom no thought could bring -more happiness than the one that mamma in heaven, waiting for papa and -Belle, would know and be glad when she tried to please Jesus and to do -His work. - -“I shall tell your papa Johnny is an honest boy,” said Maggie. “You -know we know he is, that day when the lilies were six cents a bunch, -and he had no pennies change for the ten cents I gave him, he would not -keep it, but pulled four lilies out of another bunch to make it even -with me. I told him he could keep it all, too.” - -“I guess he is a pretty good boy,” said Bessie. “Sallie says he is.” - -“I’ll tell papa all about him,” said Belle, which she did as her father -drove home with her that evening in the starlight. The fog which the -morning haze had foretold had lasted but a few hours, and all was now -again fair and clear. - -“Has my pet thought of what she wants me to give her on her birthday?” -said Mr. Powers. - -“Yes, papa.” - -“Ah! Maggie and Bessie helped you to it, I suppose. I thought they -would,” said Mr. Powers. - -“Papa,” said Belle, leaning her head upon her father’s breast, and -gazing upward at the stars, “if a present comes from mamma, it must -come from heaven, and so it ought to be somefing very, very good: don’t -you think so?” - -“It shall be what my darling pleases, if papa can bring it about,” said -Mr. Powers, drawing her closer to him as she sat upon his knee. - -“The fought of it came from heaven, I know papa,” Belle went on. -“Bessie gave it to me; and I am sure Jesus gave it to her.” - -“What is it, dearest?” asked her father. - -So Belle told her father of the “lily boy” and his desire to go to -school, and of what she wanted for her birthday gift from him and dear -mamma. - -“And you would really rather I should do this than to have any thing -for yourself, my little girl?” said he. - -“Yes, papa, really, really I would; and then you know, papa, if the -present comes from mamma and you, it will be as if she and me and you -did a little work for Jesus, all fee togefer,” and she put up her -little soft hand caressingly against his mouth. - -He took it in his and kissed it, but no more was said for a little -while, as they drove slowly home in the still summer night. - -“Will you promise, papa?” said Belle at last. - -“Yes, darling, I will promise; that is, you shall send the boy to -school if I find he is steady and good, and his parents are deserving -people.” - -“And if not, papa?” questioned his little daughter, fearful lest this -plan, which seemed to bring her nearer to her mother, should fail her -at the last. - -“If not, or if I find any reason why this thing is not wise, I will set -aside the sum of money it would have taken, and we will soon find some -way in which mamma’s gift may do work for Jesus.” - -Belle was satisfied. - -“I am so glad my darling is learning to be unselfish, and to take -thought for others,” continued Mr. Powers. - -“It’s all Maggie’s and Bessie’s fault, papa, all their fault. It never -came to me, myself; but they taught me how. And it makes me want to be -good when I see them good, even when they don’t tell me a word.” - -“Yes,” said her father: “I think it has been a great blessing to you to -know Maggie and Bessie.” - -“They’re the best of all my blessings, ’cept only you, papa. I’m a -great, great deal happier since I knew them, and I guess gooder too. -I don’t slap Daphne now; and I don’t fret so much when you tell me a -thing can’t not: do I papa?” - -“No, my darling,” said her father: “my little Belle is becoming very -good and obedient, and I see she takes pains with her quick temper too.” - -Mr. Powers felt as if he could not bear to part from his darling that -night, and when Daphne had undressed her and laid her in her bed, he -went and sat beside her, and held her little hand. - -“Put out the light, and leave the window open, papa,” she pleaded; -“so we can look up at dear mamma’s home. See how bright the stars are. -Bessie says the water-lilies are like the stars come down here, so we -can think the stars are heaven’s lilies; but they do not fade like the -lilies; do they, papa?” She rambled on half sleepily, without waiting -for an answer. “And Jesus never fades, nor the angels He takes up to -His heaven. Papa, I’ll try to be like a little water-lily, and then -when Jesus has done wif me on earf, He will gafer me up to His home -where mamma is.” - -So she talked on about mamma and Jesus and heaven till sleep came, and -she forgot alike the joys and sorrows of her young life. - -But her father sat there, long after she fell asleep, and thought -with more pleasure than any thing had given him since his wife’s -death, of the work which “all fee togefer” might do for Jesus. And -as he remembered the many mercies which God had still left to him, -especially the blessing of this loving little child, he took shame to -himself that he had allowed his own great grief to make him forget the -wants and troubles of others; and he resolved that on each Christmas -and birthday, from this time forth, Belle’s gift from her “mamma in -heaven,” should be the means of doing good to some one who needed it. - -He was as good as his word respecting the water-lily boy; and the very -next day went to work to find if Johnny Howe and his parents were -worthy of the help his little daughter wished to offer them. - -All was satisfactory. Johnny’s parents proved to be industrious, -deserving people, with whom the world had gone rather hardly for the -last year or two. Johnny himself, a bright boy, eager to learn, and -who made the most of all his opportunities. His father and mother -thankfully accepted the offer Mr. Powers made to provide for his -education as long as they should need such help; and dear little Belle -was made happy in this “birfday present.” - -Belle’s were not the only young eyes which gazed upward at the starry -sky that night with sweet thoughts of the heaven beyond. - -Maggie and Bessie had gone out with Colonel Rush to see Mr. Powers and -Belle drive away; and the evening was so soft, and warm and lovely, -that after they had gone the Colonel sat down upon the steps of the -piazza to enjoy it, with one of his pets on either side of him. - -It was very quiet: only two sounds broke the stillness; the ceaseless -song of the sea,--very low and gentle it was to-night,--and mingling -with it came the sweet tones of Mrs. Rush’s voice, as she sang her baby -to sleep in one of the upper rooms. They all sat listening to the two -hymns; so different, yet with no discord between them; the music of the -one blending so perfectly with the music of the other. - -For a moment the sweet singer above paused; then, unconscious of the -listening ears below, began,-- - - “I was a wandering sheep.” - -It carried the Colonel back, back to that time, now nearly two years -since, when on just such a night as this, with those same mingling -voices sounding in his ears, peace and rest had flowed in on his -troubled soul; when striving to reach the light pointed out by the -beloved little messenger beside him, he had laid hold upon the cross, -and felt its brightness all about him. Its rays had beamed clearly -for him ever since; for he knew from whence they shone, and that they -should never fail him. - -The baby slept, and the young mother’s voice ceased as she laid it -in its cradle: but its father sat on, with the music still sounding -in his heart; and, as if the holy spell were on them too, his little -companions sat as motionless and silent,--Maggie leaning on his knee, -Bessie with her hand nestled in his, her head laid lovingly against his -arm. - -Suddenly, some one threw back a blind from the library-window, and a -stream of light was thrown from within upon the sunny, brown curls -which lay against the Colonel’s shoulder. He looked down at her. - -“Bessie, what were you thinking of, darling?” he asked, as he saw the -wistful face and earnest eyes, which seemed as if they saw beyond the -stars. - -“A good many things, Uncle Horace,” answered the little one. “I -thought about Belle, and how glad her mamma must be to see how hard she -tries to be good, and I know it is hard for Belle to be good sometimes; -and about heaven and Jesus. And then I thought about our travels, and -how good our Father in heaven has been to us, and how I wished I could -do something very much for Him; and then--and then--Uncle Horace, I -don’t know what made me, I think it was the sound of the waves--I -thought about one night at Quam Beach, when I lay awake a great while, -and looked out at the stars and heard the waves making just such a soft -sound--and--and--I was saying a good many little prayers about you, -Uncle Horace: it was the night before the next morning when you told me -you had found Jesus, and was going to be His soldier.” - -There was no answer in words; but his arm found its way around her, and -clasped her closer, and when the brave soldier could steady his voice, -it was to Maggie he spoke. - -“And what was my honey-bee thinking of, to keep her so quiet?” - -“I was thinking of our travels too, Uncle Horace,” answered Maggie; -“but not in such a very superior manner as Bessie. I was thinking what -a lovely time we have had all these months; and now how glad I am that -papa and mamma have come to decision to stay in Newport till it is time -to go home in the autumn. I like Chalecoo; but I’d rather stay in this -lovely place than to go anywhere else. And now our travels are done.” - -“For the present, yes,” said the Colonel; “but we have all still one -road to keep, one journey to go, dear Maggie: that journey that shall -end at last in our Father’s house.” - -“Yes,” said Maggie, with grave sweetness: “the narrow road, where the -golden letters and the silver thread shall guide us, and where our -Brother will help us where it is too hard for us to go alone.” - -“And where our Father has let us find a few jewels for Him, I b’lieve,” -chimed in Bessie’s soft voice. “I hope we may find some more, but He -knows best.” - -“‘They that seek shall find,’ if they search by the light of God’s Holy -Word,” said the Colonel, laying a loving hand on each little head; “but -we may not know what treasures are ours, till the day when he shall -make up His jewels.” - - * * * * * - -And now go forth on your travels, my Maggie and Bessie, followed by -the earnest prayer that you may be the means of drawing other little -pilgrims to journey beside the green pastures and still waters of the -way of salvation, led by the hand of the gentle Shepherd, who has -said, “Suffer little children to come unto me;” and who will guide them -at last to that perfect home, prepared for such as are of “the kingdom -of heaven.” - - - - - ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS’ NEW BOOKS. - - 530 Broadway, New-York. - - =NOBODY.= A story by the author of the “Wide, Wide World.” 12mo. $1.75 - - “Her style is felicitous, her humor delicate, her - pathos sincere. 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