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MKS ,S R'CRAJIAM CLARK

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^K^i****''

HERBERT GARDENELL'S
CHILDREN

MRS S' RjfeRAHAM CLARK

Author of
Yensie Walton
Ven.ie Walton's Womanhood
Achor
The Triple E

■lid others

" It is no dream,
No castle-buildiiiK time, that we call life,
To catch the gleam
Of heaven in the strife,
Our toil must tend to reach the better life."

BOSTON
D LOTHROP COMPANY

FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS

"v^i ^

CorvmoHTi 1888

BY
D. LOTHROF CoMPAHTf.

£. G. C.

MY "ONE CHOICE GIRLIE"
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED BV MOTHER

S. R. G. C.

CONTENTS.

ClIAPTBR

Paoi

Onf choice girlie 7

11.

A minister's daughter, too

III.

In disgrace again

IV.

Under the white flag .

4«

Tommy

VI.

Hardly good enough to die ^

fOUN

VII.

Miss Olive's request

VIII.

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT

IX.

A LITTLE ADVOCATE .

107

Perhaps

XI.

Trying to be good

'3*

XII.

Trying to fly .

•47

XIII.

At Bloomingle .

I6s

XIV.

In Thee we trust

180

XV.

The danger past

198

XVI.

Better and worse

207

XVII.

An urgent appeal

219

XVIII.

An instrument for good

234

XIX.

"Time flies I" ....

244

XX.

The darky sailor-boy

261

XXI.

Holding to the promise .

268

XXII.

Cause for rejoicing .

280

XXIII.

Conscience fully roused

291

XXIV.

A worthy resume

30s

■^n

HERBERT GARDENELL'S
CHILDREN.

CHAPTER I.

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

A merry little maiden fair,
With sky-blue eyes and sunlit hair,
A laughing, dancing, merry sprite
Whose funny views of wrong and right
Get tangled quite.

Ethelyn G .

A KNOCK at the saidy door. Papa thought
-tV he recognizee' it, but he must be mis-
taken ; it was after school time. He was not,
however, for at his pleasant "Come!" there
appeared the rosiest of young faces peeping out
of the brownest of brown hoods, and his one
choice girlie said gaily, —

" Please, papa dear, write me an excuse .' "
"An excuse!" echoed papa, consulting his
watch. "Why, Birdie, it is a quarter-past nine.
What have you been doing .? "

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

"Coasting." And the little lady advanced to
the desk, and the chair always standing beside
it. "Do hurry, papa, please."

"Coasting, and forgot all about school! Is
that excusable .? Ought I to put a premium on
your heedlessness, Olive? Did you not hear the
bell .' "

"Yes, sir."

"And did not heed it!" Papa Gardenell
looked very grave. "My darling, you know I
cannot write you an excuse under such circum-
stances ; it is inexcusable."

" No, papa," coaxingly, " no. Little girls
ought to exercise ; it is good for them. You
told me yourself, papa dear, that I must take a
half-hour's sliding every morning while it lasted.
You said I would study better for it."

" Certainly, darling ; but " —

" Papa," interrupted Olive, " I had to take fif-
teen minutes of school time or fall that much
short of the half-hour you ordered."

A faint smile quivered about the gentleman's

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

Ivanced to
ing beside

:hool ! Is
emium on
it hear the

Gardenell
u know I
:h circum-

ttle girls
em. You
ist take a
; it lasted.

take fif-
hat much

ntleman's

lips. " I think I did not make a law about your
sliding, Olive," he answered. "I could not
teach you to please yourself, even in so laudable
a way, by stealing fifteen minutes of school
time."

"But, papa, some one .stole fifteen minutes
of my sliding time, and " —

"Suffering wrong gives license for wrong-
doing; theft in another excuses theft in my
girlie. What logic! Daughter, who cheated
you out of fifteen minutes this morning.'"

"Why, you did, papa," opening wide her large
eyes. "Don't you 'member we waited fifteen
whole minutes for prayers .' "

Then he was the culprit his small daughter
was arraigning for trial. The smile on Mr. Gar-
denell's lips deepened. "Then you think me
responsible for your delinquency this morning,
Olive > " he questioned.

"Why, yes, papa, don't you.? You told me
yourself little girls needed out-door exercise as
much as boys, and you wished me to take a half-

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

hour every morning. Then if you cheated me
out of fifteen minutes I had to make it up."

Papa's eyes were very uncomfortable; Olive's
slowly dropped.

"Do you really think you have taken the
spirit of my ommand, little daughter, or only
the letter.^" he asked gravely. Then proceed-
ing: "Mr. Sheaves called to consult me on a
very important question that would bear no
delay. My time is not my own, but the Lord's,
and he wished Mr. Sheaves to have it just
then. Apply this rule to yourself. Was that
fifteen minutes after nine my daughter's or
not.? Had she a right to do with it as she
pleased } "

Olive was silent, and her father continued,
"I think you have only cheated yourself, littli
girlie. Your body would not have suffered for
the loss of that fifteen minutes of exercise."

"And I'm sure my brain won't," half-laughed
the naughty child. "Papa, they don't do a
thing but read the Bible and pray and sing the

■hi

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

cheated me
it up."
3le; Olive's

taken the
er, or only
n proceed-
t me on a
1 bear no
he Lord's,
ve it just
Was that
jhter's or
it as she

:ontinued,
self, little
ffered for
cise."
f-laughed
n't do a
sing the

first fifteen minutes of school. I sha'n't miss
that ; I get lots of it at home."

Mr. Gardenell sighed, and dropped his head
on his hand a minute.

"Papa," — a little impatiently — " papa, I'm
being cheated out of lots more time. Please
give me my note and let me go."

"You think I ought to write you this billet,
Olive .? " he asked, looking into her face.

"Yes, papa, I do ; I really and truly do. I
meant to be honest with myself and make up
the time some one took from me, and fifteen
minutes of sliding seems 'zactly as good to me
as fifteen minutes of school."

Mr. Gardenell took his pen and a slip of
paper. As he wrote he said : " With me, Olive,
this does not excuse your conduct; I feel yoj
were wrong. Nevertheless, as you hold me
responsible, I yield in so far: you had an
opportunity this morning, and lost it. Fifteen
minutes for pleasure or duty, which.? I fear
you have forfeited both."

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

"Why, no, papa, I made up the fun."
"And have it to remember," he replied
gravely, passing her the note. " Now, daughter,
I have pleased you ; can you do as much for me ?
Promise me to think this matter over carefully
and decide if you can ever again, under any
circumstances, afford to sacrifice duty to pleas-
ure. If you have been wrong, will you come
and acknowledge it ? In any case, will you tell
me what decision you reach ? "

"I will," replied the little girl in a tone
almost as grave as her father's. She took the
billet and walked to the door, then hesitated,
came back to his side, stooped, .nd kissed the
"pucker" between his eyes.

" You are just as good as gooder, papa," she
said almost penitently, and very seriously, " but
you're not a bit logical. God meant you for a
minister and nothing else."

Then Herbert Gardenell threw himself back
in his chair and laughed heartily, and his daugh-
ter r:.n away apparently satisfied since she had

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE,

jn.

he replied
w, daughter,
uch for me?
/er carefully
, under any
ity to pleas-
1 you come
will you tell

in a tone
le took the
I hesitated,

kissed the

papa," she
jusly, "but
t you for a

nself back
his daugh-
e she had

banished from his face, for the time, the " Look
of Fate," as she called that grave, keen, search-
ing glance that always brought her to reflection
and obedience.

But papa's laugh was followed by a fervent
prayer. This precious little daughter, his only
girlie, was a source of almost unmixed joy to
her father. Keen, quick, full of life and fun,
alive to everything about her, strong in her
likes and dislikes, affectionate yet willful and
out-spoken, he saw in her the making of a
grand woman, and in his soul he had no doubt
she would be such. Her little spurts of temper,
liability to "scrapes," to quote her brother, did
not trouble him as they might some less hope-
ful man. His children were the Lord's, dedi-
cated to him from their birth, accepted of him
in the promise he believed, and an assurance
akin to knowledge kept his heart continually.

Some day he would know them servants of
his King ; to-day he knew them as children full
of foibles and faults, to be loved, hoped for,

— I -,./»-.■ -*_Jtt*

*a:.'y:aagiJTr— •

li i

<t ;■

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

enjoyed. He believed God : that his asking had
been heard, his prayers registered ; some day he
would see his children engaged actively in his
Master's service. For that day he labored and
waited; not fearfully or tearfully, but gladly
-nd with abundant expectation ; not idly, but
with constant turning of the soil and diligent
seed dropping. Meanwhile he enjoyed every
bit of them and their sports, and kept himself
young and them happy by sharing their joys
and sorrows.

He had five children; two pairs of boys,
with this blue-eyed girl between them. Her-
bert, the eldest, fifteen when our story opens,
was papa's self over again, so mamma averred.
He had papa's blue eyes, light brown hair,
thoughtful, not handsome face, and fine form
and voice. As true and noble in character as
in appearance, he was a joy to his parents, the
delight of his one sister, and the pride of his
three brothers, who quoted him on all occasions.
This was even true of Raymond, the second born

t
a

gc
se
th

Ro
"c

asking had
ome day he
vely in his
labored and
but gladly
t idly, but
id diligent
yed every
pt himself
their joys

of boys,
^m. Her-
)ry opens,
1 averred.
)wn hair,
fine form
iracter as
rents, the
ie of his
)ccasions.
ond born

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

and thirteen years of age, the mischief-maker
and tease as well as beauty of the family. A
perfect brunette, he was everywhere recognized
by his resemblance to his mother, with the
brightest and bL.Kest of dancing eyes and the
tightest of dark brown curls, the merriest laugh
and quickest step of any boy in the school-
yard.

Oi tne two younger boys Harry was, to quote
Mary Ann McAloon, the nursery maid, the
"dead image of Masther Harbert. Indade the
two H's are as like as two paes in a pod, and
no thrubble to spake ov, and Masther Eddie" —
Mary Ann always stopped here to shake her
head, for she firmly believed that the blue-eyed,
golden-haired darling who came last to the nur-
sery had not come to stay. He had stayed
three years, however.

Olive, poor Olive, was the odd one in this
flock. Like neither father nor mother, but a
"combination,". as Ray slyly suggested. For
while inheriting mamma's brown curls, slight.

ilT

K--.^*' iMiMMMM

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

graceful form and sweet voice, she had papa's
blue eyes — "enlarged edition," again to quote
Raymond — broad white forehead and firm
mouth and chin. She was just nine years old
when our story opens, and young of her age;
young and yet old in a fashion some children
have : the fairest, dearest children Old Earth
knows.

" What a child she is," Mr. Gardenell said to
his wife that morning after Olive started for
school, repeating the conversation that had
taken place.

Yensie sighed and smiled. " Herbert, what
shall we do with her.' I think she ought not to
have received that billet, I fear you were not
wise."

"Perhaps not, seeing I am neither Solomon
nor his brother," returned her husband with his
sunny smile. " But if I mistake not, wifie, she
has received her medicine and will find her
cure."

Medicine indeed ! Her school companions

n
k

st
H

arr
her
He
and

had papa's
in to quote
and firm
le years old
of her age;
me children

Old Earth

nell said to

started for

1 that had

;rbert, what
lught not to
ou were not

ler Solomon
ind with his
jt, wifie, she
ill find her

companions

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

It;- "' --"' -"'y '- - .he. p,a,

"Wha, ails y„„, Olive GardenellMhere's no

""'"r'°*''""'"'=^ ""'-'" Wend as
they „alkcd homeward together

h"Shmg a. the pn«,ed face of her friend

Oh yo„„eed„,,o„ka.„e. It was insMe
medicine. Mv mm ic •
know." ' " " ^''=' "^ P»P». y-

A little later there was another knock at the
^-dydoor. Papa smiled as he said ..Co„e I ■
He knew who stood without.

■■Papa .■■head bent as she advanced

-Ves, little daughter," drawing her to his

^er head on her father's shoulder and sohhed

a":i::t::er'^'— ---

I i

I i!

] ',

1 1

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

" Papa," at length.
"My girlie, I am waiting."
"I'm naughty, and I'm selfish, and — I'm
sorry, but — I — don't — like — to — be — sorry,
and I hate to 'fess, and I guess I'm wicked."
A half-sigh was the only answer.
"But, papa, I will say it — I will! It was
wrong— it was, it was, it was — there! and I
'most thought it was all the time, only I wouldn't
quite think so, and made b'licve I was logical."
" Have you confessed to the other Father ? "
" No, papa, I couldn't. He saw inside all the
time, and I don't feel 'quainted with him."

" Let me introduce you, then. Kneel by me,

darling." There was a fervent, simple prayer.

She clung to him as they rose, and sat down

on his knee.

"I can't be good; it's my — my fate to be
naughty. You and mamma ought to be 'shamed
of me. But I will not let pleasure have the
time of something else again, papa — I won't,
truly ; it is so mis-er-ya-ble. I've had a mis-er-

and — I'm
be — sorry,
vicked."

11 ! It was
lerc ! and I
y I wouldn't
IS logical."
■Father?"
[iside all the
him."

Lneel by me,
■nple prayer,
nd sat down

y fate to be
o be 'shamed
re have the
m — I won't,
had a rais-er-

ONE CHOICE GIRLIE.

ya-ble day. O mm i »,.

of a hn u ^ ' ^°" *h^ ^'"lest bit

of a hope that I'll ever be good?"

.:-fci

■U:i^=^:r.M*:t-'

! i

CHAPTER II.

i 13

A MINISTERS DAUGHTER, TOO.

'1:1

Take things as they come ;
Each hour will draw out some surorise.

I.Ir'JEDITH.

THAT'S right ; give it to him hard, Steve.
Mean fellow ! just pay him up well.
Don't let him get off. My brother Ray will be
here soon and he'll help you. Oh ! if I wasn't
a girl."

The big flashing blue eyes and energetic
shake of the head under the brown hood told
what might have been — if. And the small
chap, some years the junior of his antagonist,
cheered on by her voice, gave his well-dressed
opponent a vigorous rap on the nose.

" O, ho ! he's a coward too, is he } " cried the
excited little girl. "Would you like to run

f
P

'3* I

oo.

se.

wI^'EDITH.

hard, Steve.

m up well.

Ray will be

if I wasn't

d energetic
n hood told
I the small
antagonist,
well-dressed

'" cried the
like to run

A minister's daughter, too. 21

away, Warren Howard.^ Well, you can't ; I'„,
I^ere." and two very determined little arms, done
up in . handsome brown cloak, were resolutely
flung about the body of the flying hero, stopping
him ignominiously. " Here he is, Steve ; come
finish him. I want him well whipped for once-
perhaps you can get the mean out of him "

Steve came up at the call, and the little lady
one hand disengaged, applied her dainty hand-'
kerchief to the offender's nose, merciful even
m battle.

"Loss of blood weakens," she explained to
her ally; "we only want to punish him. Aren't
you ashamed, Warren Howard, to strike a boy
smaller than yourself, just 'cause he's poor and
his mother washes clothes for a living > "

"Better be ashamed yourself, Olive Gardenell
fighting in the street like a tomboy, and your
father a minister, too," answered her wriggling
prisoner. ^

"Of course he's a min'ster, and b'lieves in
equal rights, and so do I, and we'll have them.

lih

il ■ 1

'^ J

A minister's DAIGHTER, TOO.

too. Oh ! there is Ray. — Ray, Ray," cried the
child in evident relief at sight of her brother.

"Olive!" The little girl started and turned
to meet the grave, troubled, yet curiously
amused glance of a gentleman who stood on the
sidewalk near.

" O, papa ! you're just in time ; if you only
would help Steve whip this cowardly boy who
has been bullying and calling him names."

But the relaxed hold of both his antagonists
at once had released the culprit, who bounded
away at sight of the new presence.

Herbert Gardenell straightened the hood over
his daughter's curls, re-arranged her cloak and
scarf and took one hand firmly in his before he
said one word.

"Stevie," smiling kindly, "words never hurt
manly boys if they are undeserved. You've got
courage enough to meet harder things than
have come to-day, if you ask help from the dear
Helper. Ybu know what was written of him,
our Jesus? 'When he was reviled, he reviled

1
r

d
rr
R
lo

M
th(

de<

• cried the
brother,
.nd turned

curiously
ood on the

F you only
y boy who
nes."

antagonists
10 bounded

t hood over

• cloak and
i before he

never hurt
You've got
hings than
)m the dear
Len of him,
, he reviled

A minister's daughter, too. 23

not again.' He left us an example that we
should follow his steps. Don't let this little
daughter of mine lead you to forget " He
pressed the boy's hand and smiled again into
the flushed, shamed face, then turned home-
ward. Ray, who had taken the situation in at
a glance, sped home another road, and Olive
walked alone with her papa. The clasp on her
hand was very firm ; as if there was danger she
might slip away; his face was grave, but not
vexed, and every few moments he realized the
glance his little daughter gave him.

"I declare, it's a pity Mr. Gardenell's only
daughter should be such a hoyden, and her
mother such a lady, too," sighed the elder Miss
Ralison, glancing from her window, which over-
looked the affray,

" What has the child been doing now } " queried
Miss Jennie, the mild-faced, fair-haired sister of
the speaker, who had just entered the room.

"Been fighting right in the str^.t here I
declare, it is disgraceful, and her father a minis-

I ■

, i- ':

A MINISTER S DAUGHTER, TOO.

ter, too. I'm glad it was back here close to the
schoolhouse, where most folks wouldn't see it
and make remarks. Mr. Gardenell just came
along in time, or dear knows what it would have
grown to. She actually had that Howard boy
in her arms, and he couldn't get away either,
and there she held him for Stevie Mellen to
pound."

" Like as not the dear child was only taking
the part of the small dog in the fight, Johanna.
That's human nature, you know, and I've noticed
that Warren Howard puts upon that poor little
Steve all the time. I'd like to whip him myself
sometimes."

"You! Jennie Ralison ! " with a significant
sniff. " Well, dear child or not, I pity her pa-
rents. Poor Mr. Gardenell ! "

Poor Mr. Gardenell meanwhile was puzzling
himself as to how he should properly deal with
his child. Miss Johanna would have taken her
to the study, lectured, whipped her, and set her
to learning the catechism, no doubt. He knew

lose to the
n't see it
just came
rou\d have
oward boy
iray either,
Mellen to

inly taking
:, Johanna,
've noticed
poor little
lim myself

significant
ity her pa-

s puzzling
{ deal with

taken her
tid set her

He knew

A minister's daughter, too.

quite well, as Miss Jennie had conjectured, that
all this mischief had arisen from the warm heart
of his impulsive daughter. Every time he re-
called her flying hair, excited face and words as
he turned the corner and beheld her, Warren
Howard in her arms, stanching his blood with
one hand, while with the other she held him for
the descending blows, he found himself longing
to yield to the ludicrousness of the scene and
laugh heartily. So as he perceived the contin-
ued shy glances into his face he gave the little
palm in his a reassuring pressure.

" You are not angry with me, are you, papa.;»"
came as the result of this kindness.

"No, darling; I am only puzzled and grieved.
I am wondering must I get you a straight-jacket
or a suit of boy's clothes -confine you alto-
gether, or give up my hope of a dear little woman
and settle down to five boys."
" O, papa ! " such a doleful little voice.
"You see mamma is so beautiful, so satisfy-
ing," continued the gentleman, unheeding her

Fr=

; i

A minister's daughter, too.

sigh, "I've been expecting such an unspeakable
comfort in having her counterpart. Two such
in one house is too much good ; I ought to have
known better."
Again that doleful little " O, papa ! "
" Still I'm not easily turned from a purpose or
a desire," pursued Mr. Gardenell ; " I shall fight
hard and pray harder for my little woman before
I give her up."

"O, papa ! " but it was with a sob now, and it
was well they had reached their own door and
papa could take the little limp bundle into his
strong arms and carry it safely to his study out
of the sight of any one but himself.

"I al-ways — for-get," sobbed the child, as he
gently loosened her wraps and laid her on the
low couch. " I'm born wrong ; I was meant for
a boy, I most know. I'm nothing but — but —

a dis-comfort-able — un-sat-is-faction, and you'd
better be rid of me."

Then papa broke out long and loud into the
laugh so far restrained, and caught the bundle

I
t

n
fi

A minister's daughter, too.

nspeakable
Two such
ht to have

purpose or
shall fight
»an before

3w, and it

door and

i into his

study out

lild, as he
!r on the
neant for
— but —
nd you'd

into the
e bundle

up in his arms, declaring he wouldn't know how
to get along without his "discomfortable unsat-
isfaction," and hadn't the least idea who would
rid him of her if he did.

But after awhile, after the little heart had
stopped grieving so sorely, they had a long talk
together, when her motive received all the praise
its due, and her manner of helping her little
mate had all its unbeauty and inexpediency
exposed

"I will try hard to do better." she said hum-
bly, "but please, papa, don't 'spect anything, for
then you won't be disappointed ; and I hate to
disappoint people, and feel most sure I will."

But papa refused point-blank to be a non-
expectant, declaring he was the most expectant
man in New York, and his expectations were
fixed on his daughter.

Meanwhile Ray had given his version of the
story in the lunch-room below, and mamma was
quite prepared for the crest-fallen looking little
girl who presently appeared with papa.

A minister's daughter, too.

" Really, Joan of Arc, you don't look quite as
heroic as you did a half-hour ago," cried Ray.

"Stop your noise, Ray Gardenell. You're
just like a hateful boy. If it wasn't for boys I
could be good," she added pathetically, looking
at her father, conscious she had lost her temper
and broken her pretty resolves.

"If there were no boys what would you do
for father to bind up your wounds, I wonder,"
coitinued Sir Tease.

"And before you are hard on girls suppose
you consider the boy who doesn't know how
to get on without a mother," interrupted Mrs.
Gardenell, smiling, and completely vanquishing
this hoy, who fairly worshiped "little-mother-
woman," as he called her, and who was never
five minutes in the house without needing her
special attention.

"Mamma," said Olive penitently, "I don't
think I ought to havp any of this nice dessert,
though papa does nave a hope for me," she
added with a long sigh.

n
((

iti

sh(

bo;

she

spL

oo.

3ok quite as
'ied Ray.
;11. You're
t for boys I
lly, looking
her temper

uld you do
I wonder,"

Is suppose
know how
ipted Mrs.
inquishing
tie-mother-
was never
:eding her

"I don't

e dessert,

me," she

A minister's daughter, too.

"And mamma has another, which makes two
hopes." said Mrs. Gardenell, smiling on her
doleful little daughter.

"And Hervie has the biggest hope of all,"
chimed in Herbert, crossing the room to smooth
the brown curls while he kissed her brow. "I
should think you'd have lots of hope for your-
self, and be very happy and " —

"Eat all the dessert you please, while we all
devoutly pray that your penitent and humble
mood may never end," slyly interjected Ray.
"There, mamma, I couldn't help it; it said
itself." as he caught his mother's reproachful
eyes. " It is so uncommon to see Miss High-
and-Mighty down I must exult a little; though
I should have liked the fun of dressing down
Warren Howard myself, if father hadn't hap-
pened along. Fact is. I don't see why a girl
shouldn't whip a miserable sneak as well as a
boy. if she's able. I'll say this much for 01,
she's clear grit and no mistake; she'd make a
splendid boy. O, mamma ! if you could have

;^'-'

I •firirfiiiiMTiii-

A minister's daughter, too.

been there ; such a sight ! " And Ray burst
into a laugh at the remembrance. " I beg your
pardon, papa," as he caught that gentleman's
grave eyes, "but you know you wanted to laugh
yourself. There, I'd better go or I will be in
disgrace again."

And Ray kissed his mother and took a gentle
pinch of Olive's rosy cheek as he left the room.

I
t

tl
b
w
w

■'^ftiSfii

TOO.

d Ray burst
"I beg your

gentleman's
ntcd to laugh

I will be in

:ook a gentle
it the room.

CHAPTER III.

IN DISGRACE AGAIN.

O, how full of briers is this working-day world I

As You Like It.

TN disgrace again." Ray might well say. for
•!• either he or Olive were continually in this
condition. When she was better than usual he
always met disaster, and vice versa. As Mary
Ann McAloon once said, with raised hands and
eyes. "What Masther Raymond don't think on
Miss Olive is shure to inwent. and from what
they don't contrive the good Lord deliver us."

They had been the delight and torment of
this long-suffering maid for many a year, and
between scolding and petting them her time
was pretty equally divided. "Masther Harbert
was never to say a thrubble though he was
heady." she partially averred, "and the babbies."

■"^^^^^

-jr

IN DISGRACE AGAIN,

i I

r :

meaning Harry and Eddie, "were just angels
shure ; but two sich as Masther Raymond and
Miss Olive were nivcr born to wan roof before,
and their father a minister, too." Therein lay
the chief horror to more than Mary Ann. Had
they been born to common mortals their short-
comings might be overlooked or forgiven, but

minister's children to show such depravity

terrible I

To-day Mary Ann had a headache, and the
nursery was left to Mrs. Gardenell, who in turn
had so many callers that Olive was pressed into
service. She sat sewing a seam, while "the
angels shure," amused the. . Ives. Several
times mammj looked in to find all serene and to
praise her little daughter, who began to feel
quite angelic herself. A number of unanswered
letters lay waiting for mamma's pen ; what better
time could she have.' A kiss apiece to the
inmates of the nursery, and soon she was en-
grossed, forgetful of all but her correspondents.

Suddenly she was roused to peculiar sounds

I
b
f,
d

IV
ir

frc

sis

thi

the

of 1

cow

whi;

'bus

self

you.

and

iad

IN DISGKACE AGAIN.

iust angels
ymond and
oof before,
rhercin lay
\nn. Had
their short-
rgivcn, but
epravity —

e, and the
k^ho in turn
'cssed into
ivhile "the
Several
ene and to
an to feel
nanswered
vhat better
:ce to the
le was en-
spondents.
iar sounds

■ssuing from the nursery. She listened : com-
bat thick and fast must be going on ; never be-
fore had she heard such sounds issue from that
'"••■ection ! Just then a caller was announced _
Mrs. Ivers; one of their wealthiest, most exact-
ing parishioners ; a late-comer to the ch-irch

The poor tired mother stopped a moment at
the nursery door before descending to her .uest
"Olive, my darling, what does this mean.^° she
exclaimed as two angry little heated faces con
fronted her. "Harry. Eddie, stop, my boys; let
sister talk to you till mother returns to settle
th.s matter. Olive, keep them still, my dear-
there is company awaiting me below."

But Olive felt quite equal to the settlement
of this quarrel. " Harry, you are selfish and a
coward." she said warmly, "and if Eddie don't
whip you I will. Papa wouldn't allow you to
'buse Eddie as you do. Now look out for your-
self while Eddie shows you how he can manage
you. Thrash him. Eddie, that's a sweet angel
and sister will buy you that pretty little horse

~^mB

^^^^a^^

'^v^?-

IN DISGRACE AGAIN.

we saw down street. Wait till I count three ;
one, two, three. Quick, Eddie, quick ! I know
you can whip him."

Unhappy mamma ! She heard the noise in
spite of closed doors, wondered, prayed, grew
uneasy, and poorly entertained her visitor, who
criticised her afterwards as a very nervous
woman, not at all what she should expect in
Mr. Gardenell's wife, and she feared she did
not have good government over her children
either, for very suspicious sounds reached her
ears from above.

Meanwhile Olive had dropped her work, for-
gotten mamma's caution, and given herself freely
to the excitement of the battle. Eddie, pushed
on and praised, was victor. Harry, discomforted
and vanquished, rubbed his eyes with his little
handkerchief and cried, while his sister ex-
pressed her contempt of him in various ways,
winding up at last at the top of her voice,
through her nose, in doleful tone, an exact imi-
tation of old Brother Andrews, who occasionally

E
I

roi
be
an(

cur
kne

«U«ilv

"W f l '

count three ;
[uick ! I know

the noise in
prayed, grew
ir visitor, who
very nervous
lid expect in
ared she did
her children
1 reached her

her work, for-
herself freely
Eddie, pushed
discomforted
^•ith his little
his sister ex-
various ways,
of her voice,
an exact imi-
occasionally

IN DISGRACE AGAIN.

Hark from the tomb a doleful sound •■ .

Jm,T ""^ '"" "'"''' '"' "-— -^

.rouHed face and sorr„„fu, e,es took 1„ .,,

"Daughter, ho. often must I remind you that
you are no, to trifle with sacred things."

■■Why, mamma, how can that be sacred M.

P- on h.s Look Of Kate when Mr. AndreJs

"Olive!"

•■Mamma, Harry has been selsh and •busing
Edd,e, and needed punishing, or fd pity him
I "as only helping him groan,"

'• Olive, pu, up your work and go to the other
0".andthinkahalf.hour;Iwi,lseeyou„o„e

arbe;::"'-" -' ^'-'^ «- -- -

Then two little faces were washed, tumbled

-^ were smoothed, and one little boy on either
knee, mamma unravelled the mystery

"~"^TfB

IN DISGR/iCE AGAIN,

" My poor little Harry has been selfish and
overbearing," she said sadly, and the little boy's
lip quivered, for he loved his mother too well to
grieve her. " It is better to yield our rights,
Eddie, than to grieve Jesus by fighting ; let us
tell him about it."

That was the cure-all; both little boys felt
better when, shortly after, some one knocked at
the door. It was Rosy McAloon looking for
her daughter Mary Ann.

" Sick, is it, poor girrl ? sorry I am for her,
for mesilf is narely so, what wid the rheumatiz
and the b'y. There's the b'y drhunk agen, and
that afther signing the pledge for the Cardi-
nal. It's the Cardinal I'm afther this moment,
mum."

Mrs. Gardenell smiled. After all these years
Rosy still persisted in using her first title for
Mr. Gardenell. It was ten years now since
Rosy's husband had died, and she had followed
May'ran to America.

"Mr. Gardenell is out just now," said the

of
an
"]
"h
(R<
frif
thii
bon

she
thai

selfish and
; little boy's
■ too well to

our rights,
ting ; let us

le boys felt

; knocked at

looking for

am for her,
le rheumatiz
ik agen, and
r the Cardi-
his moment,

i these years
irst title for
3 now since
had followed

w," said the

IN DISGRACE AGAIN.

lady kindly ; "but if you will take off your bon-
net and stay to tea, you can see him and your
daughter, too. I think she will be better after
her nap."

"Indadenisthay; you look ready to dhrop
yourself; go take a bit ov rest, and I'll sthay
wul the childer. Shall I tell yez a sthory now
shure; shall it be the little rid hin .? "

" Yes, yes." shouted the boys, climbing her
stout knees.

Yensie smiled and sighed. She was thinking
of the first time she heard that story told to
another pair. The woman read her thought.
" Indade," she said, looking into Eddie's eyes
"how like the child is to Violet, me lady "
(Rosy would never get over addressing her olden
fnend thus.) " Yer mind how iver the two ov

thim liked the little rid bin .^* Ah, but they were
bonny, bonny childer ! "

Yensie's eyes filled. " They are safe. Rosy "

she said. "What could we askfor them more
than they have ? "

.--,-U

-H,

! 5

I ;

I r

ifi

IN DISGRACE AGAIN.

" To be sure, dear heart," responded the Irish
woman tenderly, and Yensie went out of one
door just as her naughty daughter crept in the
other. " My time is up," she said, as if expect-
ing contradiction. " It is such a long time to
think, and I hate thinking. O, Rosy ! if you
will tell us a story I will be good, gooder, and
sew up my seam." And vith three bright faces
upturned to hers Rosy began, " There was wanst
a little rid hin."

The talk with mamma Olive did not dread.
It was customary at twilight for all the children
to spend at least one half-hour in her room.
Ray called it " cream time," because it came be-
tween the day and the night, and was the sweet-
est thing either inclosed. " Just as a fellow eats
cream pie to get the insides," he added by way
of illustration. There was always a little com-
paring of notes, talks over school, its fun and
troubles, and the repeating of any Bible verse
that had been helpful during the day. Mamma
and Herbert always had a verse ; Ray and Olive

I
r

f.
t(

re
m

tU
wc

sel
anc

ed the Irish
out of one
:rei>t in the
LS if expect-
ing time to
isy ! if you
goocler, and
bright faces
e was wanst

not dread.
;he children

her room.

it came be-
s the sweet-
a fellow eats
Ided by way
I little corn-
its fun and
Bible verse
y. Mamma
ly and Olive

IN DISGRACE AGAIN. 3^

occasionally. Even Harry and Eddie sometimes
had theirs. Mamma always played some favo-
nte piece for them on the organ, and they sang
a hymn or two, according to the time at dis
posal. then there was a precious prayer, when
every child was mentioned by name.

After this the younger ones went to bed. the
boys to the study-room. and to-night Olive
remained with her mother. She was all ready
for confession, and so full of resolves to do bet-
ter that mamma's work was easy. "Try me
once more, mamma dear. Just watch me the
rest of the week and see how good I'll be. I
mean to be an angel."

And then papa opened the door with a lit-
t'e laugh as he caught his daughter's closing
words. °

"Comehere. darling." he said, seating him-
self; and when she came he turned her around
and examined her shoulders curiously.

" Why. papa, what are you hunting for > "
"Wings." he answered gravely, "i thought

■X.,

jT"

; 1

\ Hi:

\ I

IN DISGRACE AGAIN.

they might be sprouting." And then such a
merry time as they had, for papa had to make up
for his lost feast, for he quite as much enjoyed
" cream time " as the children did, and always
added to its merriment and helpfulness.

en such a
;o make up
:h enjoyed
ind always

iS.

CHAPTER IV.

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

In to-day already walks to-morrow.

ir„ .1 1 Coleridge.

Earthly power doth then shew likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.

Shakespeare.

TS this a safe haven for an evil doer.?" asked

a voice that tried to be very subdued and

decorous, but was utterly scandalized by the

merry eyes peeping in at Mr. Gardenell's study

door.

" It is," answered papa promptly, lifting his
eyes from a half-written sheet.

"The most luckless and disconsolate of
youths may approach to-day unmolested > " pur-
sued the investigator, quoting Ray freely, and
stumbling over the big words.

Papa pushed his paper back, and held out his
ruler for a wand, while he pursed up his lips for

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

a kiss. One tossed from rosy fingers was all he
received, however, as his daughter proceeded to
open wide the door held ajar, and in a highly
dramatic tone cried, " Advance, Sir Knight, my
person has won you favor, and you will be
treated by his Lordship with all the fluency
possible."

A laugh on both sides of the door greeted this
speech, and then the handsome face and curly
head of Raymond appeared in the door as, with
another kiss of her hand, Olive retired, having
first informed her brother in a stage whisper
that if he needed help he would find her in the
nursery.

The door closed. Raymond advanced with a
half-comical, half-abashed face, eyes rather
avoiding his father's, though he said jauntily,
" In disgrace again, papa."

"So I see," said the gentleman kindly. "I
hope it isn't anything serious. Take a seat, and
tell me all about it," drawing a chair towards
the table.

s was all he
roceeded to
in a highly
Knight, my
i^ou will be
the fluency

greeted this
e and curly
loor as, with
ired, having
age whisper
1 her in the

inced with a
eyes rather
aid jauntily,

kindly. " I
:e a seat, and
hair towards

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG. 43

" Thank you, sir. I believe I'd rather stand
where I can't sec your eyes."

Papa smiled. Years ago it h..d come to him
as a revelation that any of his children, from
youngest to oldest, preferred any punishment for
wrong doing rather than meet the continued
glance of his sorrowful eye^.

"It just makes my heart ache down to my
toes," Olive had said once pathetically. " Won't
you please whip me. papa, so I can ache some-
where else ? "

" It isn't much to tell ; it won't take long "
continued Ray with a little sigh. And papa
said kmdly, sympathizing with his boy even in
his naughtiness. •' Sit down, my son ; I will
not look at you if it troubles you."

That was just like Herbert Gardenell. and it
was just like Ray to stoop impulsively and kiss
his father's mouth, then drop into a chair and
cover his face with his hands.

"It's the old story, papa." he said, dashing
'nto it. <■ I've got into another scrape, and need

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

money. I'd like a dollar on my next month's
allowance."

Mr. GardencU looked very, very grave.

" This is the sixth time you have drawn on
your next allowance. Do you think this a wise
way to go on, my boy ?"

" No, sir, but," hesitating, " I don't see how
I can help it this month."

"But it was so last month, and the month
before. If it was only once, my «ion, I might
overlook it, but this continued extravagance.
If I grant j-^u your request, how much do you
think will be left of your next month's allow-
ance to be paid at the proper time .> "

" I don't know, sir ; not a great deal."

"Then you have kept no account ! You
would make a poor business man, Ray."

" I knew you'd keep account, sir. I knew
you would not cheat me."

" Were you ever afraid any one would cheat
you ? I fear your bump of caution is not
developed. Ray, if I pay you this dollar, you

h
it

be
to

toj

pai
<

■**^-:'%i«S

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

ve.

drawn on
;his a wise

:he month
n, I might
ravagance.
ch do you
th's allow-

ant ! You

r,"

. I knew

nuld cheat
)n is not
dollar, you

will have just ten cents left for next month's
expenses. That will not pay your tithe to the
church."

No, sir."
" What will you do > "

" I fear I shall have to borrow a little ahead,"

answered the lad slowly, and in evident distress.

"And so live continually beyond your income.

I would stop, Ray _ stop short. Many a life has

been ruined by just such a course. You think

it will make no difference now. but habit is

strong, and you will find yourself speedily bound

in chains of iron."

" But, sir - but it is really mine, and I must
be honorable. I'm in for this dollar ; I promised
to pay and I must."
" Tell me how it happened, Ray > "
" Oh ! " stopping and flushing, while his fingers
toyed with his jacket buttons, "to tell the truth,
papa, I'm awfully ashamed to let you know."

" Yet not ashamed to know yourself, or have
Heaven know," said Mr. Gardenell sadly.

'^*«*«S^,,, ,;

>«;x

M 1

A. I

-Hi

UNDKR THE WHITE FLAG.

" I'apa, I'm here under the white flaii."

" I know it, my son. I am not going to preach
to yoii, but I wish you would preach to yourself
occasionally, or listen to that little preacher
within when he takes the pulpit."

" 1 listen oftener than you think, papa."

"Yet don't improve! Hut this 'scrape,' as
you call it, was " —

" Was just a little fun out of old Johnson — I
beg your pardon," flushing painfully as he caught
his father's eye, "old Mr. Johnson. I didn't
really mean any harm, I wasn't in for it, but the
other fellows were and I hated to say No, and
spoil their sport, for they refused to go without
me."

" What an opportunity," began papa, but Ray
innocently lifted the ruler on the desk and ex-
tended it. His father smiled; he knew it was a
gentle reminder of his promised clemency.

"You know I can't bear to have you preach
specially for me, papa. Then, too, ' my own little
preacher,' as you call it, reminded me of all that

li
n
b
I

tl
fc
or

I (

an(

of
lik(

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

g to preach
to yourself
; preacher

ipa."
scrape,' as

»hnson — I
3 he caught
. I didn't
it, but the
Y No, and
fo without

a, but Ray
sk and ex-
w it was a
:ncy.

ou preach

own little

of all that

and Olive gave me a fearful drubbing -efore I
came in here. She offered me all her money
afterwards to make up, but she hadn't a cent
when she came to look; a little girl crying in
the streets yesterday got her last quarter, so I
had to apply to you. The fact is. pai,a. ^e only
meant to give the old gentleman little scare,
but he nearly lost his wits. Jonas Cowles and
I promised to pay for the broken glass and all
that, if he'd let us off. He's a pretty good old
fel- gentleman, I mean. I begged his pardon
on the spot, and told him I'd never be found in
so mean a scrape again, and I will not, see if
I do ! "

"And I understand you and Jonas Cowles to
be the only persons concerned > "

'• No-o, but - the others were kind of hard up,
and we — we "

" We are so well ofif we shouldered the whole
of it," finished Mr. Gardenell, smiling; it was so
like his generous, heedless boy.

"Ray," he said seriously, "the time is come

. ,

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

for a change. You jeopardize ali your future.
A new leaf must be turned — turned now."

Ray put out his hand for the ruler, but his
father laid his own quietly but firmly over both.
"No, my son, I did not promise not to reason
with yoli, I only promised to be merciful."

"There is no mercy in preaching to a fellow
when he is miserable," said the boy, kicking the
carpet.

' I am not preaching, my son ; I am only rea-
soning with you as one business man might with
another."

" Papa, I'm afraid I was never cut out for a
business man."

"What were you cut out for.'" asked the
gentleman gravely.

" Oh ! I don't know," despairingly. " I guess
I wasn't cut out at all, I just happened."

"'What haps God directs.' Is it possible
one poor little boy has come into this big world
cut out for no particular place, and no place cut
out for him ? " The voice and face were very

il!:l

■-^

14 —

f''<\< ,^^

yfour future,
ed now."
ler, but his
y over both,
jt to reason
ciful."
to a fellow
kicking the

im only rea-
1 might with

it out for a

" asked the

. " I guess
ied."
it possible
is big world
no place cut
e were very

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

grave. Ray easily encouraged was as easily
depressed ; he was more wont to despair of him-
self than any child his father owned ; less given
to thought naturally, and less self-appreciative.

"I'm not like you, papa; I wish I was — I
do, indeed. I am easily led. I hate to say No."

" Easily led to do wrong, n.y son, but are you
easily led to do right ? If so, how is it mamma
and I have failed when we love you so truly and
long so to do you good > "

" I'm born crooked. I don't believe I'm
responsible."

" Not when there is grace ready to help you
for the asking ? "

The boy was silenced for a moment, then, —

" Father, don't you know it is harder for some
people to be good than for others.' Herbert
never gets into scrapes."

" I know, my son, that every one has his own
particular foes to fight, his own sins to over-
come, but there is One who never fails to
overcome when He is called in to aid. I had as

i^'/j^

tmm

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

many and as strong foes in myself as you have,
my son, and i. had defeat until my Helper was
welcomed. You know, do you not, that Her-
bert had hi'' foes to conquer ; do you remember
when and how he got the victory.'"

Indeed he did. Ray's mind went back to
other days when he had waited, weeping, outside
that very study door, while the strong will of
his brother held out against authority, and his
father patiently, but resolutely, battled it. His
Herbert, his big brother, the idol of Olive and
himself! How often in those days had mamma
picked up and carried to her room her second
born, his heart weli-nigh broken over his brother's
woes, while hers ached sadly. Herbert was
naturally a seli'-willed child, and it was in his
day that this tribunal before which Ray now
stO(d, was instituted.

He would never forget how often Herbert
stood prisoner behind two chairs in that room,
while mamma, with her beautiful t-oubled face
was the jury, Mary Ann the witness, and Olive

gi
s<

•c
b(
ht
an
ni
hii
ba

sti
fol
th<
the

"g
kei

grc

sta;

:.*;:

IS you have,
Helper was
, that Her-
Li remember

nt back to
ing, outside
ong will of
ity, and his
led it. His
: Olive and
lad mamma
her second
lis brother's
'erbert was
was in his
I Ray now

en Herbert

that room,

oubled face

5, and Olive

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

special pleader for the prisoner, whose part she
invariably took. He remembered now how very
grave the judge always was, and that his face
seldom relaxed into a smile, even over Olive's
childish pleas, some of which he now recalled.

"Hervie didn't do it, she knew he didn't,
'cause he was good, always good, and loved her
better than any one else in the world. And if
he did so it 'twas 'cause Mary Ann was horrid
and he ought to pay her off, and he was just the
nicest brother in the world," stopping to pat
him and place a kiss on the end of his nose ; a
baby habit she was just outgrowing. He never
could forget one occasion when this self-con-
stituted little advocate declared warmly that Irish
folks ought not to be allowed in court, "'cause
they disremembered everything and mixed up all
the rest." Which made the prisoner laugh out-
right, and brought the judge and jury's hand-
kerchiefs to their mouths, though their eyes
grew sad as this eloquent lawyer went on to
state that she was the real culprit and ought to

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

be the prisoner, for she threw the pillow at
Mary Ann's head, and imitated Herbert's voice
and called her " Ould Ireland."

At which Mary Ann rolled up her eyes, and
clasped her hands in horror, while the prisoner
being released. Miss Olive was given his place,
for she had told an untruth in hopes of shield-
ing her brother. In vain both boys plead for
her. She was kept in close confinement until
she repented, and confessed, and then was sent
to bed in disgrace. She was not supperless ;
but her meal had been very plain, and Ray, in
the compassion of his heart, smuggled her a tart
and a slice of frosted cake from the supper table.
For a long time after that Herbert called her
nothing but his little " Irish attorney," declaring
she had perpetrated a bull worthy of the best
Paddy that ever lived.

It was over two years now since Herbert had
been in disgrace. It was only occasionally he
had ever been, but it ended altogether the night
he rose for prayers in the small vestry, and

s
e

r
<(

■^'Sia*!.

le pillow at
rbert's voice

er eyes, and
the prisoner
n his place,
es of shield-
ys plead for
ement until
en was sent
supperless ;
and Ray, in
ed her a tart
supper table,
t called her
f," declaring
of the best

Herbert had

;asiona]ly he

er the night

vestry, and

father and mother came home with such shining
faces. He had been different since. Still Ray
and Olive carried to him difficult problems and
troubles of every kind. He was their hero,
their comforter, counsellor, the dear big brother,
but they never expected him to get into a
" scrape " now ; they would as soon expect it of
their father. Once in a while Ray had seen him
enter papa's study, with a troubled face, and
come out with red eyes. But there was always
such a smile on the lips under the eyes, Ray
envied him.

All this flashed through Raymond Gardcnell's
mind in answer to his father's question.
" Papa," he said, putting out his hands, and
clasping the neck bowed towards him. Then
papa drew his great boy to his knee — it was the
only natural way for any of tho»r. to sit — and
the curly head fell on the broad shoulder meant
to support it, while a broken little voice said,
" Papa, you're right, and I am wrong. I'd give
lots to be like you and Herbert. I do try. I

"Vi^.

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

pray sometimes, but I fail. I ask for help, and
it doesn't come."

And papa whispered : " Isn't it because you
do not open your door wide enough to let your
Helper in ? It is He that overcomes ; we can
only let Him."

And just then the study door flew open, and a
very merry little voice said, as its owner stopped
in apparent dismay, " Why, if the judge and jury
and all the court hasn't the prisoner right on
its knee ! That isn't dignified, but it's nice,
isn't it, Ray ? It's a quarter of two."

Ray jumped up. " I didn't suppose it was
half that time ; my whole noon gone."

" Angy Baron brought in her be-au-ti-ful
bracelet for me to see, and I forgot everything,
even you, you poor prisoner. But what has the
court decided ? " proceeded Miss Busybody,
holding the judge by the ears, while she kissed
his nose.

Then the judge arose with great dignity, and
declared that the court had decided that the

•r help, and

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

ecaiise you
to let your
;s ; we can

open, and a

ner stopped

Ige and jury

er right on

it it's nice,
II

pose it was
If

be-au-ti-ful
everything,
irhat has the

Busybody,
; she kissed

dignity, and
ed that the

"-^P?***>''

money be paid immediately, producing a sliver
dollar and passing it to Ray. " It had also
decided," with great emphasis on the verb,
" that henceforth the sum of five cents be
deducted from Ray Gardcnell's monthly allow-
ance every time a penny was called for before it
was due."

" My ! " commented Olive, " what'll become
of you now, Ray } "

" My ! " echoed Ray, " I'll have to turn over
a new leaf sure, whether I want to or not."

rmn

'2 . ■: i

CHAPTER V.

TOMMY.

" How underneath wintry snows,
The iiivij-ible iieirts of flowers

Grow ripe for blossoming,
And the lives that seem so cold.
May be casi in gentlest mould,

May be full of love and spring."

WHY, if it isn't little Tommy Gardenell ! "
and Miss Johanna Ralison, answering
the knock at her back door, looked down in
feigned surprise at a very neatly-dressed little
figure, with the brightest of eyes, and the
rosiest of cheeks, peeping out from under a
new spring hat.

The face clouded perce;;tibly, anv; the eyes
flashed ominously .?t this greeting. There was
a little flush of shame, too. C'li.e quite knew
Miss Ralison was thinking of tliat fortnight-old
affray in the street Had she not seen her

^^^^•*''-

ardencll ! "
answering
I down in
:ssed little
, and the
under a

> the eyes
There was
uite knev^
rtnight-old
seen her

TOMMY.

old friend's face at the window that day ? Miss
Johanna had raised it once with a suggestive
" 01i\-e Gardenoll ! " and rapped on it several
times, until the excited child shook her fist at
her, and cried out, " Stop your noise, you horrid
old Jo ! "

She had quite forgotten that day's mishaps ~
it seemed so long ago — and now this unac-
knowledged and unforgiven part of it confronted
her with fresh humiliation. It had taken place
the last day of school, before the spring vacation,
and so much had happened since ! The warm
weather had come, and papa had made so many
delightful little trips with his merry brood since
— only yesterday taking them to the country —
that all disagreeables had been driven out of Miss
Olive's curly head, and she had started on her
errand to her "dear J's," as she called the two
Miss Ralisons, with a very light heart,

Johanna and Jennie Ralison were the last of
a respected and once wealthy family. Mis-
fortune had reached them. On a part of what

^A-'*--

TOMMY.

had once been their father's estate stood the
substantial brick schoolhouse, where Mr. Gar-
dcncll's children spent so many happy hours.
The front lot had been sold to a stranger ; all
that remained to thorn was this yellow house.
It was a good-sized, substantial building, with
an cU and a very small back yard, wliere the
sisters raised a few posies, and which they
designated as " our garden."

This house stood on the right-hand side of
the narrow walk that led to the schoolhouse,
and both stood back from the street. The
larger part of the house the sisters rented, and
this was their only income. The ell with its
tiny sitting-room, kitchen and pantry below, and
two chambers above was their domicile, their
chief excitement and entertainment being fur-
nished by the school children.

Both the sisters found interest in these : Miss
Johanna noting all their battles, shortcomings,
unnecessary noises, Miss Jennie, by some means
or other, becoming their ally, counsellor, de-

'tl-.'^d-

TOMMY.

! Stood the
e Mr. Gar-
ppy hours,
ranger ; all
How house.
Iding, with
where the
vhich they

nd side of
:hoolhouse,
reet. The
rented, and
11 with its
below, and
licile, their
being fur-

jese : Miss
)rtcomings,
ome means
iscllor, de-

fender and surgeon. How this came to pass
Miss Jennie herself woulil have been puzzled to
say, or if Miss Johanna was as blind to the pro-
ceedings about her as appeared, was never fully
ascertained. But certain it is that bloody
noses, wounded fingers, and even torn pants
found their way to that back door, and were
severally attended to, with sundry gentle pats,
and not a few kisses, administered surreptitiously
without the supposed knowledge of Miss Jo.

Miss Jennie often wondered at the fortune
that kept her sister engaged in some other part
of the house on these occasions. She was
thankful, however, for hers was a gentle, timid
nature, unused and unfit to battle with the
strong will of her only relative, and she was
sure these children were a sore trial to Johanna.

Olive loved both the sisters after a fashion.
" My dear Miss Jo is a splendid old hateful,"
she confessed to Ray, " but precious Miss Je
is honey and down."

Now she stood quite conscious she owed an

TOMMY.

apolojjy to Miss Jo for past rudeness, and sure
she would have to give it some day, to case
her conscience ; but how could she do it now,
with tiiose gray, gray eyes looking down on her,
as with dainty basket on one arm, the other
h .:)d behind her, she flashed defiance from the
blue eyes under her new hat. If only Miss Jo
wouldn't be so horrid ! But Miss Jo was just
Miss Jo, and repeated in her peculiar tone : —

" Little Tommy Gardenell, how is your ma
and pa ? Hadn't you better come in ? I sup-
pose you have an errand.'"

" Not to you, Miss Vinegar and Gall. I wish
to see the lady of the house," replied the little
girl, with much dignity and great emphasis.

" Oh, oh ! Jennie, Jennie," looking over her
shoulder, and addressing the lady in the sitting,
room beyond, "do you know : mmy Gar-
denell .' "

"No. I am not acquainted with Tommy,"
chirped back Miss Jennie in her weak soprano,
"but I know Miss Oily well, and I'm sure I'm

TOMMY.

iSi and sure
ly, to case
tlo it now,
•wn on her,
the other
e from the
ly Miss Jo

was just
tone : —

< your nia

1 ? I sup-

II. I wish
the little
hasis.

over her
lie sitting-
imy Gar-
Tommy,"
sojjrano,
sure I'm

not mistaken in her sweet voice. Let her
come in, Sister." And without ceremony, Olive
dashed past Miss Jo, crossed the kitchen with
a bound, laid her basket at her friend's feet,
and dropping beside it kissed her hand, while
she cried : —

"Such nice cream pie, and delicious tarts,
and — and something better than both of them
together ; and it's all for you, you darling.
Don't you let cross old Jo have one thing
'cept — 'cept just the littlest tart that's there."

Then Miss Johanna closed the door between
them and the kitchen, and went about her work,
a smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

" She's ' game,' as the boys say ; but I'd like
to know how it happens father and mother are
both left out of her make-up. But then, it was
so with me. Mother was handsome, and father
a gentleman, and " — the rest was lost as she
went up-stairs to make the beds.

"There, did you ever see anything so lovely !
Oh ! don't they bring the little birds, and the

''\

...^.-.,MMWs.i..

ilfi

TOMMY.

grnss, and everything else beautiful into your
heart, just to look in their darling eyes ?" cried
Olive, with what Ray would have called a poetic
"streak," as she lifted a bunch of delicious
violets to Miss Jennie's nose.

" They came this morning from — ever so
far, done up in moss, in a box to keep them
fresh. Isn't it nice to be like my mamma, and
ha-e everybody love you, and isn't it nice to be
me, and have mamma > I kept them behind my
back ever minute, for fear the thunder in Miss
Jo's face would blight them in their beauty,"
falling into another streak. " There," fastening
part of them on her friend's bosom, and walking
away, head this side and that, to note the effect,
"you are just lovely, like them. They are
yours ; you shall have every one of them, i did
int(,nd to give Miss Jo some of them, but
she is so — so peculiar— I really don't want to
oay anychi"g naughty, and have to repent and
'fess again. I hate repenting, don't you. Miss
Jennie ? A person can't repent without 'fess-

il into your
yes?" cried
lied a poetic
3f delicious

I — ever so
keep them
lamma, and
nice to be
behind my
ler in Miss
r beauty,"
' fastening
id walking
the effect,
They are
-m. I did
them, but
't want to
;pent and
you. Miss
lout 'fess-

TOMMV.

ing; if they only could it would be such a
blessing," sighing, and not noticing the smile
on her friend's lips.

" Please, Miss Jennie, may I comb your hair ?
I won't disturb you the leastest bit ; you can go
on with your sewing. I comb mamma's some-
times, and yours would look so nice done up her
way. You don't begin to know how funny you
loo'r, your hair dragged back so straight and set ;
not a bit like yourself."

" I felt sick this morning, and sister combed
my hair."

" I knew it, and it will never do. You're not
a bit like her, you know. You were made for
soft laces and loose coils, and — and — violets,"
tripping back and forth, with comb and brush.

" Miss Jo was meant — was meant — well,
she's quite good, only — only — dear Je do
you believe it is wicked to think some folks
are mistakes, and were meant — • meant for men
instead of women > Not that I think God ever
made a mistake ; that would be dreadful ; but —

^■^

f/s^.-,^«, ■.

TOMMY.

but — some one did, and I shouldn't wonder,"
slowly, •' but it was Satan. He does mix things
dreadfully sometimes, you know. Why, he
made Eve believe that p'raps God didn't tell
the truth, and I guess he made Miss Jo
kind of mannish; not much, you know, but a
little. O, Jennie ! how soft and nice your hair
is. It is silky, like mamma's, only mamma's is
dark and — and — numerous, and yours is light
and kind of thin ; but they're both feathery ;
puffy, you know. Why, all that hair of mamma's
is as light as -light as— I don't know what.
Oh ! how sweet you do look with those violets in
your hair. You darling, you are as pretty and
young with that pink in your cheeks ! Miss Jo,
Miss Jo," springing to the door, and hopping up
and down with delight, forgetful of her late
dudgeon, " Miss Jo, come here, quick ! "

In the pantry mixing bread, Jo's thoughts had
been wandering as she sifted and stirred. That
call roused her. Had Jennie, the only one she
had left, taken another ill turn > The spoon

t
c
i:
ii

h
c

g
n
d

liMlM>ii«Hil«4iai«i«

TOMMY.

't wonder,"
mix things
Why, he
didn't tell
! Miss Jo
now, but a
: your hair
namma's is
irs is light
feathery ;
f mamma's
now what.
i violets in
pretty and
Miss Jo,
opping up
her late

ughts had
ed. That
y one she
he spoon

dropped from her fingers ; she forgot to wipe her
careful hands as she sprang in answer to the
cry.

" Oh ! look, look ! Isn't she lovely ? " The
open door revealed, not what she feared, but
such a fair, sweet face, it seemed a part of her
late dream — a phantom from the past. The
sunny locks caught here and there with violets,
the tiny bunch beside her throat, the flickering
color in the cheeks all seemed parts of her van-
ished youth. Olive was satisfied as she looked
in Johanna's eyes.

" You old darling ! " she said generously. " I
have two violets left and you shall have them.
Stoop down, and let me put them in your
hair."

" Go away, child ! I don't want yc-ur violets ;
keep them out of my sight," pushing the little
girl one side. "Ennie dear," using the pet
name her sister had not heard in years, " Ennie
dear, you look as you did thirty years ago. It's
about the same time of year, too." Stooping,

TOMMY.

l\ -■

she kissed her sister's cheek and went out, and
Olive stood looking Pt her two violets with
indignant tears in her eyes.

" You mustn't mind her, dear," said Jennie
gently. " She did not mean to grieve you ; the
flowers were more than she could bear. You did
not know we had a brother once — an adopted
brother — but dearer than life to us both } Yes,
it was more than thirty years ago, just such a
morning as this, he decked me out with violets
like these — great purple beauties, the first of
the season, and fit to crown his queen, he said.
He kissed me when he left me, as she did just
now. He never came back to us. They brought
him back dead. Johanna covered his coffin with
violets and planted them on his grave, and she
never has wanted to touch one since. Poor
Johanna ! she loved Robert so much."

So much! How much she never guessed and
never could. In the kitchen, with set lips and
drawn brows, a woman fought her heart. She
must live for the one of whom he said to her

TOMMY,

'ent out, and
violets with

said Jennie

ve you ; the

ar. You did

-an adopted

both ? Yes,

just such a

with violets

the first of

een, he said.

she did just

'hey brought

is coflfin with

ive, and she

since. Poor
If

guessed and

set lips and

heart. She

said to her

that fatal morning, " You and I will spread her
path with violets. You will not be sorry, will
you, dear old Jo, when I become your tru! •
brother ? "

" Oh ! how sad ; and you loved him too. Miss
Jennie?" asked Olive, a great lump in her throat
and ajieavy feeling in her heart.

"O, yes!" replied Miss Ralison. "I lovad
him better than everything else in all the world.
I suffered at first, and I wept so much " was
very sick and a burden to Johanna. But she
was brave and patient with me. Now I think
of him with Jesus, and there is no pain in the
thought. I expect to meet him by and by. I
never speak of him now. I should like to
sometimes, but I find Johanna cannot bear it.
I tried it once or twice, but she looked so terri-
bly that I did not try it again. She is different
from me."

"So would I be," cried Olive, with sudden
consciousness of affinity with Miss Jo, "so
would I be if Hervie died. I could not, could

TOMMY.

not get over it," with a little sob. " I could
never forgive God ; I could never be happy wilh
him way off in Heaven, and me here. You are
good, Miss Jennie, and so is my papa and
mamma. Good people love all God's ways, but
— but — I'm sorry I called her Vinegar and
Gall, and you may give her half of the pie and
the biggest tart, and — and — poor dear old Jo,"
and down went Olive's head in Miss Ralison's
lap and she cried heartily.

Miss Jo was picking over beans by the kitchen
window when Olive was ready to go. Her face
was very stern ; sorrow makes some faces stern.
She was so preoccupied she did not see the little
figure all ready to depart looking at her out of
wistful eyes much resembling two great violets
heavy with dew.

A long, deep sigh attracted the woman's atten-
tion, and she started a little.

" Why, child, how queer you act. What are
you sighing about >" she asked sharply.

" My sins," replied Olive solemnly.

TOMMY.

). " I could
e happy wilh
■e. You are
y papa and
d's ways, but
V^inegar and
the pie and
dear old Jo,"
iss Ralison's

J the kitchen
0. Her face
faces stern,
see the little
It her out of
great violets

(man's atten-

What are
ply.

A smile flickered over Miss Ralison's face.

"I'm so sorry," continued the child humbly.

" Sorry for what } " still sharply.

" 'Cause, — 'cause you don't like violets."

"Who told you I didn't like violets ? I love
them better than any other flower in the world."

"But — but you wouldn't take them."

"They stifle me, they stifle me ; I can't breathe
where they are," said Miss Johanna, catching
her breath as if they were oppressing her then.
But she looked more kindly at the little girl,
recalling that long ago when at that very door
a tall, lithe figure stood in drab overcoat, with
violets at its button-hole, while the sun that
glinted on this child's curls turned his to threa:?
of gold as he kissed his hand to her and laughed
his happy " good-by ! " Yes, she loved violets.

"I — I'm sorry I called you old Jo, and you
ain't Miss Vinegar and Gall, and I do love
you some when you let me, and I want you to
eat the pie and tarts, and I'm sorry you've got
an ache, and I wish I could comfort you ; but

TOMMY.

,'lli

li'

1; t i;!; ' you won't let me or anybody else —
a;/ 1 iav.i ")u best 'cause — 'cause you don't
forget Rol:_i£. It's just hateful to forget, and
I couldn't."

Johanna Ralison laid down her pan of beans
and looked at the little one, who had drawn
nearer and nearer to her during this speech.

"Well, if ever I saw such a child," she ex-
claimed.

" No ; I guess you never did. I'm not good,"
said Olive meekly. " I never could be good
enough to forget, and — and I've always got to
repent and 'fcss somf^thing, but->-but I want
to be good some, and I'm sorry I got cross, and
you can call me Tommy if you want to, and" —

"Hoity, toity," broke in Miss Reilison,
*' You're not quite a little heathen, I guess,
though you act much like it at times. Why,
when you're quiet and lady-like your voice is
quite like your mother's ; and never were two
pairs of eyes in two heads as like as yours and
your father's. Don't get discouraged ; there's

r
c

H^>!IMiMnM

TOMMY.

)ocly else —

J you don't

forget, and

an of beans
had drawn
speech.

Id," she ex-

r> not good,"
lid be good
ways got to
■but I want
)t cross, and
: to, and" —
ss Rp.lison,
2n, I guess,
mes. Why,
our voice is
er were two
,s yours and
>-ed ; there's

hopvs for you, child, while there's anything like
your pa. -nts about you. We'll rub out the old
score, shake hands and begin over again."

Olive took the extended hand, but she looked
unsatisfied.

"Well, what else.'" questioned Miss Jo, with
a half-smile.

"If you'd let me kiss you."
Down went the stiff neck. How the little
warm arms hugged it ! " P'r'aps he used to
hug you so," she whispered, "your dear, dear
brother. There's a kiss from me to make up,
and there's one for comfort, and " — lingeringly
— "there, that is for Robert," putting a kiss
right on the tip of Miss Jo's nose. Then Olive
darte> out of the door as if she surmised what
would f. low, and saw Miss Johanna's head fall
on the t Ae while she sobbed with all her might.
" God bless that baby ! " she said amid her tears,
for, true as strange, no human sympathy since
Robert died had been as zeal to her as this.
"Im a fool," she said presently; "but to

"•i"*.^,

iillii

TOMMV.

think that child has such a heart. There's a
good deal of flash to her, but it's the flash of
the diamond. Poor little Tommy ! " with some-
thing like a real laugh as she recalled that kiss
on the nose.

Perhaps her heart was lighter for her tears,
for when, a little after, she heard her sister
repeating softly, " Into each life some rain nust
fall," she replied cheerily : —

"And it's well 'tis so. Think of a world
without a bit of rain to sweeten it, or a day of
glare and no twilight to soften it. I guess God
knows best," and Jennie looked her astonish-
ment out of her mild eyes.

■Mil

Ml&iR'p''"

There's a
he flash of
with some-
I that kiss

her tears,
her sister
rain nust

)f a world
or a day of
guess God
r astonish-

CHAPTER VI.

HARDTV GOOD ENOUGH TO DIE YOUNG.

So wise, so young they say, do ne'er live long.

King Richard hi.

/^ MAMMA ! " cried Olive, a little later
V-/ that day, bursting into her mother's
room with all the pent-up feelings of her soul
rushing to her lips at once, " O, mamma! those
violets were dreadful and lovely, and Miss Jennie
looked like an angel, and Miss Jo loves them,
but she can't bear them 'cause they stifle her,
and— and she's got an ache, and I wish 1
could comfort her, but I wouldn't never, never,
never forget Herbert, and I'd never forgive God
for taking him, and I'm most sure he will 'cause
he's so good and I'm so uncodiciled."

And mamma, laughing, took the poor little
doleful face, with its quivering lips, between her

^mm

\'-]\

I :

74 HARDI.V GOOD ENOUOH TO niK YOUNG.

hands, and kissed brow, eyes, check, chin and
nose-tip before removing the pretty hat with its
blue ribbons.

" Mamma, I kissed her right on the tip of her
nose."

"Who, darling .>"

"Miss Jo," replied the child gravely.

"O, my girlie! " laughed mamma, at thought
of dear straight-backeil Miss Johanna submit-
ting to such an indignity. "How in the world
did you manage it .' And what did she say .' "

" Oh ! it was for Robert, you sec. I didn't
really want to, you know, 'cause those kisses are
Hcrby's, and papa's, and yours, and Ray's once
in a while when he don't tease. But — but, O,
mamma! Miss Jo has .su 'i an ache; and I
couldn't help think if it had been Ilcrvie, and
so — and so I did give her a nosy kiss."

Mamma was mystified with " Robert " and
the "ache," but she knew time and patience
would get at the bottom of things. Just now
her daughter needed diversion and sympathy.

UARDLV GOOD ENOUGH TO DIE YOUNG. 75

c, chin and
hat with its

L' tip of her

at thought
iia submit-
11 the world
he say ? "
;. T didn't
e kisses are
Ray's once
t — but, O,
he ; and I
Icrvie, and

)bcrt " and
(1 patience
Just now
mpathy.

"Just like my generous little Olive," she said,
" but how did Miss Ralison take it, darling?"

"I s'pose I oughtn't to know, mamma, for she
gave a little sniff and I ran off quick ; but I
looked back and her head wasn't up at the win-
dow, and I know she didn't move, so I s'pect it
was on the table and she was crying. I thought
she would ; that's why I ran. It was alt the
violets, mamma, the violets and— and Robert.
He went and died, and they covered him with
violets, and now they stifle Miss Jo and she
can't bear them."

"And Robert was.'" qucstioningly.
" Her brother. O, mamma ! let me tell you
all about it, only you'll be sorry, for I was
naughty, and when Miss Jo called me Tommy
Gardcnell I " — lowering her head and speaking
slowly — "I called her Miss Vinegar and Gall
and asked for th-^ lady of the house, as if she
wasn't one. But, namma, I asked her forgive-
ness and repented all right, and I'm willing you
should think me very naughty or anythin"-, if

.f!^

76 HARDLY GOOD ENOUGH TO DIE YOUNG.

you'll only help me to comfort Miss Jo and ask
God not to take Hervie, 'cause I want to be
good some, only I couldn't iicver forget him."

Perhaps Mrs. GardencU read between the lines
of her little daughter's story ; perhaps she under-
stood more of the silent life of sorrow hidden
in that back ell than the sister who shared it.
Certain it is from that hour a new respect for
this tall, gaunt woman had possession of that
gentle heart, which showed itself in numberless
delicate acts of love.

" Poor Miss Johanna," she said in tones sympa-
thetic enough even to satisfy her small daughter.
" We will ask God to comfort her and show us
how to help her."

" And Herbert, mamma, my Herbert .' "

"Your Herbert is the dear Lord's own pre-
cious child, and I think He has work for him to
do here before He takes him to Heaven. My
Oily needs to love and trust Jesus."

They prayed together, and Olive felt lighter-
hearted. She watched her favorite brother

YOUNG.

Jo and ask
want to be
)rget him."
en the lines

I she under-
"o\v hidden
3 shared it.
respect for
on of that
numberless

mes sympa-

II daughter,
ad show us

irt .? "

s own pre-
fer him to
;aven. My

felt lighter-
ite brother

HARDLY GOOD ENOUGH TO DIE YOUNG. yj

sedulously, however, for the next few days,
greatly to his amusement ; noted what he ate,
commented on his color, and teased him into
an ^Jur of frolic when he ought to have been
s'udying his Latin lesson. She concluded, as
she informed Ray. that " Hervie was hardly good
enough to die yet, for it was kind of naughty to
play in study-hour, and it was only good boys
who died young,"

But Olive did not forget her desire to comfort
Miss Ralison ; it was with her continually, and
at last showed itself to the amusement of all.

"Are you boys very busy.?" she asked one
study-hour, peeping into the room where Her-
bert and Ray sat "pegging away " at their Latin,
according to Ray's terminology.

" About so, so," laughed Number One ; but
Number Two said jokingly, "What next, pray.?
how long since our convenience was consulted
when Miss Flyaway had business on hand.?
Don't stand on ceremony. Princess ; if you get
too good you'll die young."

HARDLY GOOD ENOUGH TO DIE YOUNG.

I : I!

I ; li I f I

" There, Ray Gardenell, if I'd quote a person's
words right before another person. If I'm not
good, there are some things I'm above doing."

" As for instance, cajoling a fellow into play-
ing away his study-hour for the express purpose
of proving him not good enough to die," laughed
Sir Tease. " To beguile a fellow mortal into sin
with the selfish desire of relieving one's own
heart, and then rejoicing, yea, exulting, that the
victim has reached the level of his betrayer, that
is — that is," cried Ray, striking an attitude
and running his hand through his hair, " that is
degradation indeed."

" I didn't ; oh ! I didn't. Hervie, you darling,
you are just as good, and clean, and white, and I
didn't 'zult over you, did I ? " cried Olive, flying
to her brother's side, her sensitive conscience
alarmed at once.

" If I am deregration you are gooder than
ever, and I'll teil God so, 'cause 'twas my fault
you played and 'glected your theology lesson."
Both boys were laughing.

de
no

ok
da;

ber

S#Sk

a person s
f I'm not
doing."
into play-
is purpose
," laughed
al into sin
one's own
;, that the
rayer, that
n attitude
r, " that is

3U darling,
hite, and I
live, flying
conscience

)oder than

s my fault

lesson."

HARDLY GOOD ENOUGH TO DIE YOUNG. 79

'O, Princess, Princess!" cried Ray. with
dewy eyes, "you will be the death of me yet.
Your 'deregration' has reached your brain while
Herv's ' theology ' is still all in his heart. Now
here's a specimen of zoology for you ; how will
you classify her, Herv > "

' Love species." laughed Herbert, pushing the
curls from the sweet face and drawing her to
his knee, " Precious, Ray is suffering from a
'streak'; you ought not to let his rhapsody
alarm you. What does brother's darling want > "
Olive was easily diverted. "Are there any
shorter cafkisms alive now .^ " she asked
soberly.

"No," struck in Ray solemnly; "they're all
dead. Nothing but longer catechisms in vogue
now."

"O dear!" sighed Olive. "Miss Jo is so
old- she forgot there wouldn't be any these
days."

" But there are. darling, lots of them." Her-
bert still caressed the head on his shoulder.

,■■ j>

80 HARDLY GOOD ENOUGH TO DIE YOUNG.

" O, you wicked boy ! " cried Olive, lifting her
head to shake it at Ray.

♦' All a matter of opinion, sir, I assure you,"
answered the incorrigible. "You wished to
know if they were alive. Herbert takes the
affirmative and I the negative. I've had some
experience in the matter, having got acquainted
with the article in question while at Aunt Sally's.
I give you my word as a gentleman, they are
dead ; as dead as any dead language in existence,
if anything can be said to be dead which exists.
That the books are still to be found argues noth-
ing whatever as, alas, we schoolboys know to our
sorrow," lifting his Caesar with his toe and send-
ing it spinning across the room.

' " To thy grave, thou dead and long since
worthy of burial ! Take rest beside thy coldier-
author. I'd gladly sing thy requiem," he cried
theatrically.

" Streaks ! " cried Olive, clapping her hands.
" Streaks ! Hervie, couldn't you get me a shorter
cat'kism ? "

^H pi"

k'OUNG.

HARDLY GOOD KNOJGH TO THE VOUNG. 8 1

lifting her

sure you,"
wished to
takes the
; had some
acquainted
unt Sally's,
n, they are
n existence,
hich exists,
rgues noth-
know to our
»e and send-
long since
thy coldier-
1," he cried

her hands,
me a shorter

•' What do you want it tor, darling }"
"To study ; I want to learn it all by heart ! "
"And die young .>" put in Ray sepulchrally.
" I knew you were approaching the goal when
you inquired if we were busy. Look out, Prin-
cess ; if you cheat Herbert and I out of another
hour of study you will have to seek a solitary
tomb. We shall not be good enough to accom-
pany you thither."

" Nobody ever thought you'd die young. Her-
vie, will it hurt me to study the cat'kism ? "

" I don't know ; ask papa. I should think it
might be strong meat for babes," was the reply.
" O, no ! it is milk. I was of very tender age
when Aunt Sally applied it to me at Valley Farm.
But my stomach was weak; it soured, and I
threw it up as fast as I took it, so she concluded
it was not suited to my constitution," said Ray.
" My Miss ]'s studied it, and I guess they're
good enough," cried the little girl. " Tt didn't
sour Miss Je and Miss Jo isn't. sour, : xie's only
stifled."

82 HARDLY GOOD EN^>UGH TO DIE YOUNG.

" Stifled ! " echoed Ray. " What stifled her,
Princess ?"

"Violets," was the sententious reply, and no
entreaties availed to make her explain further.

"I'll just '^o see papa," she said. "He likes
me to comfort folks, I know ; and p'raps he'll get
ne a cat'kism when I tell him about Miss Jo."

" That's right," seconded Herbert. " It is
likely papa has the book in his study; he has
most everything." And Ray broke in coax-
ingly, " Tell me about Miss Jo, Olive ; that's
a darling. If there's any comfort on foot I'd
like to be in it ; and as to the catechism, I can
recite two or three pages without a break."

Oliv.; turned on him admiring eyes. "Then
you'd suit Miss Jo. I'll tell her next time I
go there, and she'll never call you a nuisance
again. But — well, I'll think of it, and p'raps
I'll let you comfort her a little," which was
the very best the young lady would promise
then.

at stifled her,

reply, and no
lain further,
d. " He likes
^'raps he'll get
lit Miss Jo."
■bert. "It is
study; he has
roke in coax-
Olive ; that's
■t on foot I'd
techism, I can
a break."
eyes. " Then

next time I
)u a nuisance
it, and p'raps
" which was
ould promise

CHAPTER VII.

MISS olive's request.

To sum up all, be merry, I advise;

And as we're merry, may we still be wise.

Robert Burns.

pAPA GARDENELL sat in his study quite
busy with his papers, yet when his little
daughter put her shining head through the door,
asking demurely, —

"Can the busiest and bestest man in New
York spare half a minute to a poor little beggar
girl .? " he answered joyfully, " Not only a half-
minute, but a half-hour if it will satisfy or com-
fort the weeniest corner of her precious heart."
Then there was a merry scamper across the
floor, and presently the little beggar had her
shining head on a broad shoulder,

" Papa, have you a shorter cat'kism ? "
83

t ,*

MISS olive's request.

Papa was astonishe '. "What can m- little
beggar-girl want ui a shorter catechism ? "
'Oh ! for comfort, papa."
" Comfort r " question ingly.
"Yes, you darhn^o:, comfort. Let me kiss
that puzzle-wrinkle out of your forehead 'fore
you grow old. Mrs. Walker says it makes peo-
ple old to wrinkle. Mamma never wrinkles;
she only opens her eyes when she doesn't under-
stand. That keeps her from growing old, and
makes her quite lovely. When her eyes open
so, I love her to death. Now, that will do. Yes,
papa, I want to comfort poor Miss Jo, she has
such an ache, and violets stifle her."

Very lucid. Papa tried to keep the puzzle-
wrinkle out of his forehead, and opened his eyes
instead, for which he was repaid with a dainty
kiss on the tip of his nose.

"You see, I didn't know and I offered her vio-
lets, and she looked ~ looked like Fate; like a
judge; and I kissed the tip of her nose for
Robert, and she cried." — Here Miss Olive's lis-

CST.

t can m- little
schism ? "

Let me kiss
forehead 'fore
it makes peo-
evor wrinkles;
doesn't under-
awing old, and
her eyes open
: will do. Yes,
ss Jo, she has

'P the piizzle-
l^ened his eyes
with a dainty

ffered hervio-

■ Fate ; like a

her nose for

iss Olive's lis-

MISS OLIVES KF.QUEST.

tener came near laughing, but restrained him-
self. — "So I want a cat'kism."

" I understand ; you hope the gift of that will
comfort Miss Ralison ? What nade you think
of such medicine, my dear? I itxi my copy is
too old to be presentable."

" But, you see, I don't want to give it to her ;
I want it for myself."

*' No, I didn't see, and now I fear my sight is
slightly blurred. You wish to comfort Miss
Johanna by presenting yourself with a cate-
chism ? "

" You are the smartest papa ! That's just it ;
and I know it will please her better than any-
thing I can do."

The "smartest" papa, afraid of losing Lis
reputation, opened his eyes wide a^^ain, but
wisely kept his mouth shut.

" You don't understand > Oh ! what a funny
man. Now, listen ! I really did pray about it,
and I know it's just the thing. Papa, if you
knew a little girl who got cross when you called

'$
.'.(

■V.

•V

MISS OLIVE S REQUEST.

her 'Tommy' and called you back Mr. Vinc-
gar —

"Tit for tat," interjected papa.

— "And who shook her fist at you when you
tried to keep her from fighting, and called you

old J , no, old G ; 'cause you're not Miss

Jo ; and who said you mustn't have any nice pic
or tarts, and stifled you with violets " — Here
papa's form shivered a little with repressed mer-
riment, though his face looked preternaturally
solemn — " And then repented and 'fessec'. but
couldn't get any better, and you had to keep
forgiving her, why. p'raps you'd like her to
study the cat'kisin if you knew it would make
her good."

"P'raps I would," assented papa with great
gravity.

"Of course you would," responded his
daughter, kissing him.

"And the comfort," suggested papa; "I sup-
pose the comfort would be iu having such a bad
child reform ? "

MISS olive's request.

L-k Mr. Vino-

'ou when you

id called you

)u're not Miss

: any nice pie

lets" — Here

:pres.scd mer-

'eternaturally

i 'fesscc'. but

had to keep

like her to

would make

a with great

spondcd his

ipa ; " I sup-
g such a bad

"Yes, 'course. You sec, if your brother
Robert died and gave all his violets to Miss
Jennie — no, to mamma, I mean — and you didn't
have anybody else but him and her in the world,
and he never came back, but was brought back
dead, and you covered him with violets, and
planted them on his grave, and they always
stifled you, and somebody gave you two, and
didn't know 'bout it, and stifled you again, they'd
be sorry, papa."

"Yes," assented papa.

"Well, that's mc, papa," in a very doleful
voice. "And you see if I could comfort her
now I'd be glad. And she says lots of times
girls were better in her day 'cause they studied
the shorter cat'kism and learned their duty to
God and man. And if I could s'prise her by
saying it right off like she did when she was
little, I think it'd be the best thing she'd like,
and she'd know I was trying to be good. Papa,
is it ' strong meat for babes ' and ' too much for
a weak stomach ' ? "

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

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UUl-

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1.25

1.4

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1*1* ...1

O,^.

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 873-4503

#*i;i<s»a4s«fi?sf>n»s**»*^*«'**''-

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microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiquas

MISS OLIVK S REQUEST.

Then papa had a chance to laugh and relieve
himself. He carried her to the bookcase and
held her up while she took the pamphlet from a
top shelf. " I think you may study it without
danger," he said, still smiling. " It is a wonder-
ful strengthencr of the spinal column, and my
girlie can tell brother Ray that papa will not
object to his taking small doses of it daily, in
the study, with you."

Neither father nor mother expected Olive
would adhere long to her purpose of committing
the catechism to memory, and they were aston-
ished as day after day she took her prescribed
lesson without a demur. In this they saw fresh
proof of the strerigth of her affections. It was
a happy day to the child when her dancing feet
carried her to the "Yellow Nest," as she called
the abode of her maiden friends, catechism
in hantl, hair flying and eyes radiant with
delight.

Miss Jennie met her in the kitchen with a
kiss, and she caught a glimpse of Miss Jo in the

sittm

the c

"I'v

must

want

(ii

node

turn

dust

say

had

WOl

sue

(

" S

MISS olive's request.

'clieve
e and
rom a
ithout
onder-
ul my
11 not
ily, in

Olive
lifting
aston-
cribcd
(• fresh
It was
g feet

called

;chism

with

with a
in the

sitting-room beyond, dusting the ornaments on
the corner bracket.

"Oh! dear Miss Jo," she cried, dashing in,
"Ive learned it! I've learned it! And you
must be so glad, 'cause now you know truly I

want to be good."

"What has Miss Rattlebrain got in her little
noddle now ? " asked the spinster, not unkindly,
turning a moment to her before she finished her

dusting.

"The cafkism," replied the child. "I can

sav all the pages."

I^Iiss Jo gave a half-grunt. "In my day we
had to repeat it without the turn or loss of a
word," sighing. "They don't teach children
such things these times."

" Oh ! but I can say it and not miss a single
word." passing the book into the lady's hand.
" Shall I make believe I'm Tommy and go stand
in a corner with my hands behind me, and recite

it?"

Miss Jo smiled grimly.

MISS OLIVE S REQUEST.

"You can stand where you like, I needn't
stop my work ; I know every word of it by
heart. There, begin: 'What is the chief end
of man > ' "

There was a queer ghnt in the gray eyes as
the child answered the last question.

"And you did that to please me, Diamond >"
she said almost tenderly.

" Yes ; does it comfort you, Miss Jo .' " asked
the child naively.

" It makes me hope for you. You're a real
Gardcncll child. Jennie, get Tommy a cookie."

A cookie ! Olive received the great, funny-
shaped gingerbread horse, with a stubby tail
and one staring eye, with joy. It was made for
her — made before she came. She danced all
the way home.

It WOi

a good ■

to en

boy A

comp

tard)

The

dren

stud

CIlArTER VIII.

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

It would be argument for a week, laushtor for a month, and
a good jest forever. King 1Ii:nry iv.

GOOD-MORNING, you dear people all!"
A cyclone of sunshine and cheer seemed
to enter the breakfast-room with the handsome
boy who smiled and bowed at the assembled

company.

" Papa, I beg your pardon ! I am sorry to be

tardy."

«I am sorry, too," said Mr. Gardenell gravely.
The one thing he would not tolerate in his chil-
dren was dilatoriness.

" I was up early enough, but sat down to

study before completing my toilet, in hopes to

.ke up for last night's fun. It is six months

T transgressed before; I trust you won't

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

be hard on a" — "fellow," Ray came near say-
ing, for he was the culprit, but instead wound
up with the words of an old Scotch woman
whose darling he was in babyhood : " A wee,
weak laddie."

"Wee, weak laddie." Ray was the very oppo-
site of that now, as papa, looked up into his
brilliant face with its comical mixture of fun
and penitence. How full he was of rich exu-
berant life! Herbert Gardenell was proud of
his children, and who could find fault with one
so ready to confess his shortcomings >

"You are excused this morning, but don't
repeat the experiment," said the gentleman, with
something like a twinkle in his eye. " It is not
often we have delinquents in this direction ;
strange that we should be favored with two this
morning."

Ray cast a hasty glance over the company.
To be sure ; where was Olive } She was neve
late. " May I see what detains Princess h
I sit down ? " he asked, turning to his f-^

sei

sis
ch

wi
ti;

tl
\\

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

near say-
id wound
h woman
" A wee,

cry oppo-
into his
e of fun
rich cxu-
proud of
with one

lut don't
nan, with

It is not
irection ;

two this

:ompany.
as neve
is h-

.<I think you may. I forbade Mary Ann's
doing so. You are too old now to trouble the

servants."

Ray bounded over the stairs and into his
sister's room without ceremony. She, poor
child, had forgotten everything as she wrestled
with the poetic muse, bound to obtain substan-
tial comfort for Miss Jo. Hair uncombed, face
unwashed, she sat, pencil in hand, elbows on
the table, paper spread out before her, despair
written on every lineament of her face.

.' Late for breakfast, and in disgrace! Papa
has sent me for you. For shame ! when it is
the only thing over which he's very particular,"
shouted Ray, then stopped suddenly as his eye
took in the picture.

.. My ! if it isn't streaks." The door flew to,
and the boy descended the stairs again, two at
a time, stopping to take breath before entering
the dining-room.

«' Streaks ! " he cried dramatically. " A clear
and beautifully developed case of the streaks.

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

The ecstatic Muse has evidently descended, and,
to judge from the Princess' appearance, has
pulled her hair, slapped her face and taken
every other liberty with her imaginable. A
most decided case of poetry struck or stuck in.
Only one thing can save the patient now, to
bring it out. Mamma, don't you think you can
help her ? I fear the result."

" O, Ray ! " deplored mamma, putting her
hands to her cars.

" You had better calm yourself and eat your
breakfast, my son, or the result may be far from
satisfactory in your own case," said papa, and
Herbert begged to go to his sister.

" No ; you can remain where you are, and our
foolish little girl must take the consequences of
her folly. If the law of compensation holds
good, she will not much mind cold beefsteak
and mufifins."

As the party were about to adjourn to the
back parlor for prayers, a doleful little face
surmounted by a halo of combed, but uncurled

hair,
had 1
was 1:

"I
rhym
child,
his s
have

" £
simul
it wil
stanc

may
"I
!!(
siste
hisf;
glan(
with
and
finge

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

:d, and,
:e, has
taken
Ic. A
uck in.
ow, to
ou can

ig her

t your
r from
a, and

nd our

ices of

holds

:fsteak

to the
i face
curled

hair, thrust itself through the door. The toilet
had been hastily executed, and when the face
was lifted to papa's for a kiss, he shook his head.

" I've lost a warm breakfast and not found my
rhyme, and now papa won't kiss me," cried the
child. " O, Herbert ! " catching a glimpse of
his sympathetic face, " you are all the friend I
have in the world."

" Streaky yet," commented Ray, with a well-
simulated look of commiseration. " I'm afraid
it will strike in," with solicitude. "Olive, I will
stand by you to the end."

" You needn't," snapped the child. " Papa,
may I have my breakfast ? "

" Not now, my daughter ; papa cannot wait."

Herbert found the chapter and verse for his
sister, and seated her next to himself. Ray, at
his father's right, and a little in the background,
glanced at her occasionally, out of owlish eyes,
with a preternaturally grave expression, now
and then stroking his face with his spread
lingers, to denote that she still looked streaky.

A STARTLINO DEVKLOI'MENT.

It was exasperating in the extreme. If Her-
bert had not Ijccn beside her with a loving touci
now and then, she was sure she would have
done something dreadful. She was glad when
the hymn was selected and she was summoned
to her mamma's side at the piano. Even then
she clung to Herbert, and, with her back to Ray,
quite lost his look of genuine admiration as she
sang. He was proud of his sister, especially of
her singing, it was so like mamma's, and made
him long to be good. He had need of some-
thing to make him good this morning. Mamma,
and papa, and Herbert each prayed, and he got
very uneasy, and turning in hopes to catch his
sister's eye, he saw she had her arms tightly
twined about his brother's neck.

" ' Sympathies are healing,' " quoted Raymond
a few minutes later, when, sauntering into the
dining-room, he found Olive eating her cold
breakfast. " ' Sympathies are healing, and in
Hie worst is ample hope, if only thou hiist
charity and faith.' What, streaky yet, poor lit-

tle

anc

unl
it \
an<
roi

do'
yo'
str
to
CI
ou
an
m:
he
de

flc
be

A STARTLING DKVELOI'MF.NT.

If Ilcr-
ing touc.t
)uld have
;lacl when
iimmoncd
Ivcn then
k to Ray,
on as she
ecially of
ind made
of some-
Mamma,
id he got
catch his
IS tightly

Raymond
; into the
her cold
T, and in
;hou hist
, poor lit-

tle Ol ! What were you writing ? Tell brother,

and perhaps he can help you out."

" Vou don't help," said the child. " You just

unhelped my best line, banging my door when

it was just ready to come — the beautiful little

angel thought. You scared it with your great

rough ways, and it flew away " —

"On the wings uf the wind, like a wounded

dove," interjected Ray dramatically. "My!
you've got it bad this time, 01. You look
streaky ; anybody'd know you were a poet, just
to sec your melancholy eyes and sensitive mouth.
Cheer up. Sis; 'There's a divinity thrt shapes
our ends, rough hew them though we may,'
and you are tending fast towards poesy, and
may be sure some day the Muse will take up
her abode within your breast and never more
depart."

Ray looked so serious, in spite of his high-
flown language, that Olive half-believed him to
be in earnest.

" Ray, do be good for once," she said, " and

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

tell me if you rc;illy, truly think I will ever be a
great writer ? " .

" Undoubtedly," answered her brother, with a
sober face. " I am .something of a poet myself,
and can tell, Come, Princess, do let mc e.xamine
your verses ; perhaps I can give you the missing
links."

" P'raps ; if you promise never, never, never to
tell."

" Never, never, never," repeated Ray. " May
I be thumped if I do, or drowned in a wash-
basin."

•' Now you're funning."

" I was never fa'"thcr from it, Princess."

" Ray, if papa would let you take the horse,
and you'd drive me to the old graveyard to see
the grave covered with violets, I think I could
do better."

"To be sure," assented her brother, begin-
ning to get a rational conception of the present
poetic visitation. " I see; it is Robert you are
bewailing."

fort

cpith

ingo

How
It

emp
If

I've

p'ra
II

con
ver
his

kn(
rh)
ow

A STXRTLING DEVELOPMKNT.

1 ever be a

\cv, with a
et myself,
le examine

r, never to

y. " May
n a wash-

ss,"

the horse,
arcl to see
k I could

cr, bcgin-
le present
rt you are

«< Yes ; it is Robert. It will be -"ch a com-
fort to Miss Jo if I c only write him an
epithet. I think these lines - they arc the end-
ing ones, Ray — are beautiful : —

" And violets blue
We'll strew, we'll strew
Forever above his Just.

How docs that sound ? "

" Sound ! why, that's poetry," cried Ray, with
emphasi.s. " Go on, Princess ! "

"I can't. You see the middle's left out.
I've got the first verse and last, but — O, dear !
p'raps you can help me just the tiniest bit."

"All right; I'll try, though I could never
come up to you, Princess. We'll ride out this
very evening and see ' The violets blue, above

his dust.' "

What Ray did for the epitaph will never be
known. So artfully did he suggest words and
rhymes that Olive herself believed them her
own production. She dedicated the poem to

100

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

her dear Miss Jo, with many thanks for the
" darling gingerbread horse with one eye, and
a stubby tail," with hopes that its "feeble
utterances" — Ray's suggestion — might com-
fort her stricken heart, and make up for the
time she stifled her with violets. It was signed
"Tommy," and decorated with a pencil drawing
of the violet-covered grave beneath a weeping
willow.

There was a postscript added, saying the
flowers were meant for violets, though she
couldn't draw them very well.

Olive was delighted with her work when done,
and exhibited it to Ray with no small pride.
His evident admiration and desire for a copy
flattered the child into a second edition, which
was safely concealed in Ray's pocket. As re-
ward for this kindness he sealed and directed
the envelope, and left it under Miss Ralison's
door; to reward himself he stepped to the
window and peeped under the curtain to note
its reception.

Wei

every '

in dec

tion, 1:

when

"Bl

sudde

was r

T\v

just

He A

revea

was c

gent^

Tom

assu

tear:

Jem

agai

it d

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

lOI

:s for the
; eye, and
s " feeble
ight com-
ip for the
va.s signed
il drawing
a weeping

aying the
ough she

.'hen done,
lall pride,
or a copy
ion, which
t. As re-
1 directed
Ralison's
;d to the
1 to note

Well, it was funny. The boy outside enjoyed
every bit of it. Miss Jo's amazement, her labor
in deciphering it, her amusement at its dedica-
tion, her oscillation between laughter and tears
when she read it aloud to Miss Jennie.

" Bless that dear child ! " said Jennie, and then
suddenly down went Miss Jo's head, and she
was really crying.

There was a soft whistle under the window
just then ; Ray was unprepared for showers.
He would have run, only flight would have
revealed his position, and in creeping off he
was arrested by the elder woman's voice.

"Tommy, Tommy," she was saying, as if
gently calling some petted cat, "dear little
Tommy." Then, in a sprightlier tone, to re-
assure her sister, distracted at the sight of her
tears, " We must make Diamond another horse,

Jennie."

Another horse was waiting when Olive called
again, and it was carried to the nursery, where
it delighted Eddie for a good part of one day,

102

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

until Ray coming in bit off its tail to sec if it
was made of sawdust as he asserted, when the
onc-cyed wonder lost all its desirableness.

Ray was very uncomfortable with that epitaph
in his pocket ; it gave him untold-of agony. He
longed to share it with some one. But he had
promised not to tell, so he could not speak of it ;
but after resisting temptation for a week he
finally slyed it into the Bible on his father's
study-table, and immediately felt better.

Papa Gardcnell came home that afternoon,
weary and dispirited. Trouble between two of
his church members weighed on his heart. He
walked the floor, prayed, then reaching out his
hand for his constant source of help and com-
fort, opened it to Olive's " epithet." The hand-
writing, the inscription to Miss Jo, betrayed
"Tommy," and, smiling, he sought his wife.

" Oil for the squeaks," he laughed as he i^u'.
it in her hand. " I expect this is the outcome
of that neglected breakfast. Read it aloud, my
dear. Really, what a child ! "

Mrs.

Here lie:
He was

Most
Hut wilt
He wen

And

O, Rob

I
The vi

And
'Cause
Ami V

For

After

Ami ,

'Ca

And

O lo

Rob

But
•Ca

STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

103

■) sec if it

when the

;ss.

at epitaph

^ony. He

.it he had

leak of it ;

week he
s father's
r.

afternoon,
en two of
cart. He
ig out his

and com-
The hand-
, betrayed
; wife.

as he £^u^
ic outcome

aloud, my

Mrs. Gardenell read the following : -

El'ITllET TO ROUURT.

Here lies a darling as ever couUl be,
He was all the world to Jo and some to Je.
;;::; the best brother (llervie is nicest) ever seen.

,.. .hen the violets were so lK,ght^^^^.^
He went and faded- no, wa. killed

And all the world looked green.

O, Rob.,. d„.i.,.. ...c, »«"«.'«"»'"='•-""'" '""""""'

feet
The violets you loved so pretty and sweet,

And thcv cried and cried -cause they must -

•cause their poor, dear hearts broke right m two.

And violets blue we'll strew, we'll strew
Forever above your dust.

After Je cried she went and forgot
And Jo didn't 'cause she c .uld not.
'Cause she is 'zactly like me,

And I never could my Hervip forget.

And Miss Jo violets always stifle, they st.fle her yet.

And I'm as glad as I can be.

O loved of the heart and dear to the soul,

Robert, who can thy mourners console ?

You were always as sweet as sugar,

And I know you are good and gooder.

104

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

There was much conjccturo as to how this
effusion found its way into Mr. GardencH's
Bible. Perhaps Olive wished, in tliis way, to
bring- it to her fallier's notice ; but that was
not Hl<e her : far more probable Ray was at
the bottom of the affair. Very carefully papa
probed his little daughter that evening as she
sat on his knee.

"Was my girlie in papa's study this after-
noon ? "

"Not all day ; I've had company, and been so
busy."

"And hasn't my birdie anything to tell her
papa .''"

Olive turned her head on one side, like a wise
little robin. " Not a thing, if you please," she
said brightly, " I have a secret, papa, but it's
good, and about comforting folks, and I know
you won't care, so I'd rather not tell if you
won't feel bad," running her fingers through
his hair.

"Poor papa," said Mr. Gardenell, commisera-

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

105

how this
ardencll's
s way, to
that was
y was at
'ully papa
ig as she

bis after-

J been so

) tell her

kc a wise

;ase," she
I, but it's

I I know

II if you
through

immiscra-

ting himself. "Who ever had a girlie before
who kept secrets from her onty donty papa ? "

" Oh ! I'll tell you if you feel very bad. But
_ra — rather — not," slowly, "'cause you'll
laugh, and you ought to trust your daughter."

"I wouldn't know for the world now," cried
papa ; then, putting his hands to his ears, "please
don't tell me; I love so to trust my little
daughter." So they had their frolic, and the
epitaph was locked up, and never a word said.

Papa and mamma exclianged significant
glances when Ray picked up his father's Bible
carelessly, and ran its pages through his fingers.
Something had miscarried, and Ray was discon-
solate.

He was glad he knew it by heart, and found
relief that night by reciting it, dedication and
all, to Herbert, having first put his hair in a
frenzy, pulled down his face to a melancholy
length, removed his vest, unbuttoned his coat,
sent his collar to a corner of the room, and
rumpled his shirt besom. Then, striking an

io6

A STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

attitude and a tone, he took his "revenge on
Fate." His audience, seated on the bed-foot,
laughed till the tears ran down his face, and
encored until it was repeated, and ended by
saying, "We must never let dear little Olive
know, but really, Ray, you arc the smartest
fellow I ever saw."

X SI

was w

called

Misse

out it

in thi

exten

to th(

a ncA

ic bed-foot,
s face, and
ended by
little Olive
ic smartest

CHAPTER IX.

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

Then nature said: "A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown ;

She shall be mine, and I will make

A lady of n>y own." woRDSWORTH.

-rT did seem shameful for school to keep in
i such bright spring weather, when Nature
was wooing its children into the light. Ray
called it "mean," and Olive "horrid," but the

Misses Ralison brightened when the bell rang
out its familiar summons, and Jennie, who was
in the chamber, opened her window to its full
extent, and waved her handkerchief in greeting
to the merry groups gathering fast.

"Look at that old witch ! is she crazy?" asked

a new-comer. ^

"She isn't a witch, and she isn't crazy, said

107

io8

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

Ray Ganlcncll emphatically. " If you want to
hold your own in 111 is school, be careful how you
speak of our clear Miss Dr. J," lifting his hat
and waving back to the window. Every boy in
the crowd followed Ray's example in this as in
most matters, and Miss Jennie responded to the
compliment with a " Welcome back to school,
my dears ! the sight of your faces does me good."

"Three cheers for Miss Ralison," shouted
Ray, and they were given lustily, while the girls
waved their handkerchiefs.

Olive looked with unfeigned admiration at her
handsome brother as he stood with shining face
and bare head among his fellows. " You arc a
darling," she whispered, pressing close to him
as the bell sounded, " I am proud of you, and
you are very handsome when you're good."

"Just so," he replied; "glad you begin to
appreciate my virtues. You don't look bad
yourself when you're jolly."

What good did it do to compliment Ray .'
Herbert would have kissed her for that warm

little spi

ready to

after sch

" I w:

are so s

are r= hi

eyes lati

" Oh

said Ra

even ir

" Now,

substan

"I'll

sation

Misses

danger

out the

A v

but he

fore hi

to the

knowr

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

100

)u want to
111 how you
iig his hat
,'ciy boy in
1 this as in
idcd to the
to school,
mc good."
," shouted
lo the girls

ition at her
lining face
' You arc a
ose to him
if you, and
: good."
1 begin to
; look bad

nent Ray ?
that warm

little speech. Nevertheless, she was just as
ready to admire again when Ray came to her
after school to enlist her sympathies.

" I was there and I didn't suspect, but you
are so smart," she said, "and I do believe you
arc r= ht, too ; I've seen a sad look in Miss Jo's

eyes lately."

"Oh! that's from poring over your epithet,"
said Ray, succumbing to his propensity to tease
even in the midst of such serious business.
<' Now, Ollie, you really have a chance to give
substantial comfort ; suppose you try."

" I'll try," replied his sister. Which conver-
sation simply means that Ray suspected the
Misses Ralison were in trouble, their home in
danger of being lost, and wished Olive to find
out the facts in the case.

A very small thing aroused his suspicions,
but he felt very sure of his ground. When be-
fore had Miss Jo ever opened the garden gatp
to the boys ? indeed, when had she ever been
known to sanction its opening ? Yet she had

1 10

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

done it that day, and when he advanced, bowing,
and asked for a pair of scissors to fit a piece of
court-plaster to a scratch on his hand, had slie
not invited the other boys in, jaying she was
sure tliey were welcome and always would be,
while she owned the place. And when they
said politely, they hoped that would be as long
as the old schoolhouse stood, she glanced at
Jennie, and Miss Jennie sighed, and said she
would be content if sure it would be as long as
the present scholars remained there, but added,
as if to allay suspicion, "Everything in this
world is precarious, you know, my dears; we are
not sure of even our own lives."

Tender-hearted Ray had pondered the words
all day. They must not be turned out of their
home, the dear old ladies ! there was some way
to prevent it if they were only sure ; and then
Olive's happy faculty of getting at the botcom
of things suggested itself. " Either Miss Jo's
going 1;o die or they have lost their home," Ray
asserted.

It was

needed

Jennie, ^

no com I

feared, t

whole di

" The

but we

paid unl

sew, an

have lei

house n

bard th

all my 1

"Oh

it," sai

tell Jes

Hubba

But

plain 2

had m

with a

A LITTLE AUVOCATK.

lit

cd, bowing,

t a piece of

id, had she

ig she was

. w(Jiild be,

when they

be as long

glanced at

d said she

as long as

but added,

ng in this

:ars ; we are

I the words
nit of their
s some way
! ; and then
the botcom
r Miss Jo's
borne," Ray

It was indeed true, and not many words were
needed to draw the whole story from Miss
Jennie, who loved to talk over things and had
no companionship in her reticent sister; she
feared, too, that she was at the bottom of this
whole disastrous affair.

"The house has been mortgaged for years,
but we always managed to keep the interest
paid until lately. I've been so poorly I couldn't
sew, and some of the ladies we depended on
have left the city, and so we've had to use the
house rent for evcry-day expenses. Mr. Hub-
bard threatens to foreclose, and it seems to be
all my fault," sobbed Miss Jennie.

"Oh! but i =sn't ; and if it is, you can't help
it," said Olive comfortingly. "Couldn't you
tell Jesus, as my mamma does .> he can stop Mr.
Hubbard."

But that night Olive asked her father to ex-
plain all about mortgages to her, and when he
had made her comprehend, sat for a long time
with a very preoccupied face.

112

A I.ITTl.E ADVOCATE.

" Papa, arc you rich ? " she asked at length.

" Nt), ilcar."

" Why not ? Don't you cam a good deal of

money ?"

"Yes," admitted Mr. Gardcnell ; "and I spend
.1 good deal. Will you understand if I tell you
all about the various charities and missions and
individuals who call upon papa for help.'"

" Do you s'pose you could raise a hundred
dollars, papa > Are we very poor .' "

" O, no, dear ! we arc not poor at all. There
is a great difference between poverty and wealth.
I could raise a hundred dollars very easily.
Why do you ask, my dear .' "

" It's a secret," answered his daughter. Rut
the ne.\t day she found opportunity to ask Miss
Je if a hundred dollars would pay the mortgage ;
she was most sure she could get so much.

"No ;" Miss Jennie shook her head. " It was
f..lly fifteen hundred dollars, and she must not
trouble her dear little head about it. She must
kiss her and never mention it to any one."

Olive I

herself t

she couU

" I'apa

Judge \\

<*Ycs,

his repu

gives al

Lord's '

then pa|

the col(

eyes br

Thci

Olive I

She di

mamm:

somcth

So ma

who w

charge

corner

o'clocl

A LITTI.K AOVOCATK.

It lonj;th.

oocl ileal of

and I spcMul

f I tell you

lissions and

.dp?-

: a hundred

all. There
' and wealth,
very easily.

ightcr. But
to ask Miss
e mortgage ;
much.

\d. " It was
he must not
. She must
I one."

Olive kissed her. but was careful not to pledge
herself to silence. How could she help her if
she could not speak of it ?

"Papa," she bri)ko out th-'t evening, "is
Judge Wilde rich ?"

"Yes, dear, he is counted so, though 1 think
his reputation for wealth exceeds the facts. He
gives all his income above his ex,K-.nscs to the
Lord's work. Do you understand that?" and
then papa explained his words and noticed that
the color grew in his little girl's face and her
eyes brightened as he proceeded.

The next day was Saturday. In the afternoon
Olive obtained permission to go to the city.
She did not divulge her errand, however. If
mamma would please to trust her, 'cause it was
something good and she would know some day.
So mamma kissed her "Good-by I " and Herbert,
who was also going to the city, took her in
charge. He was to leave her at a certain street
corner where she would meet him again at five
o'clock. It was very hard not to tell him all

114

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

about it, but she kept it close by shutting her
lijjs hard, and being unusually silent. He might
not approve of her errand, but If he did not
know it, how could he object ?

She knew her way very well indeed, and had
the wisest of plans in her wise little head. So
when Judge Wilde said " Come ! " in answer to
a rather timid knock at his ofKicc door, he was
surprised and delighted at the bright sweet face
that peeped in on hi\n.

" Arc you all alone, dear judge, and can you
spare me a half-hour as well as not ? " she asked
politely.

" Better than not. Alone, and at your dispo-
sal for the whole afternoon, Birdie. I am so
tired I was about to put up work.

" I guess you were sent to rest me. What a
blessed bit of sunshine you are, lighting up this
old musty office." In a moment more our little
woman was cuddled in the judge's arms, her hat
■on the table, while his hand sm.oothed her brown
curls.

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

115

;hutting her

. He misiht

he did not

:ed, and had
e head. So
n answer to
ioor, he was
it sweet face

ind can you
'" she asked

t your dispo-
:. I am so

ne. What a
iting up this
ore our little
irms, her hat
;d her brown

«' I wonder what has bought me this privilege.
Want to consult uncle on papa's last court to
see if Ray was tried properly ; is that it ? " for
the judge had been called in as authority more
than once by this small lady.

"No, Judge Wilde, this is a truly case, and
you will please not laugh to-day," replied Olive
gravely. So the judge lengthened his face and
declared himself ready to hear a clear statement
of her business.

" Uncle Judge, you have lots of money, haven't

you .' " she began.

-Let me sec," replied her friend, commencing
to rummage his pockets. " Enough to get you
a ribbon or two, or a new doll-baby, I guess."

"Now, you arc laughing at me," she said
indignantly. "Do be a good, nice Christian,
please, and tell me if you are rich."

« I'm a child of the King," said the gentle-
man. " I have all I want, and plenty to use in
the King's busmess. Suppose you tell me what
money is needed."

ii6

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

" It'b the King's business, really and truly,
Uncle. Oh ! I'm so glad He gives you plenty
to use, for this will take a lot more than a
thousand dollars," speaking slowly, and looking
into the gentleman's face to note the effect of
this announcement.

Judge Wilde opened his eyes, b'.it his lips
smiled reassuringly, and she reached up to kiss
him and call him a uarling, and with many diver-
sions proceeded to tell her story, much to the
amusement and interest of her listener.

" You dear little chicken ! and your soft
little heart is aching for your dear Miss J's.
You are mamma's daughter, I see."

" Dear Uncle Judge, if you were a poor woman
— no, two women — 'cause it's a truly case — and
had only one brother and he died — you mustn't
kiss my hair, but listen — and was covered with
violets ; and if your land had to go to build
schoolhouses for children, and houses for folks,
and you hadn't anything left to s'port both of
you but one yellow house, and people living in

the bigge

sick and

the rent

couldn't

you s'poi

it all up

off to sc

" It Ic

" Anc

had lots

girl, wh

'cause

part —

part of

could I

their \

this li

have i

and a

good

comfc

violet

and truly,
'Oil plenty
re than a
id looking
2 effect of

t his lips
up tu kiss
lany diver-
ich to the
ler.

your soft
Miss J's.

)or woman
;ase — and
ou mustn't
vercd with
to build
; for folks,
rt both of

living in

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

117

the biggest part Of it; and if one of you go
sick and couldn't sew any more, and it took all
the rent for the doctor and things, and you
couldn't pay interest on the mortgage, don t
you s'pose it 'ud be the King's business to pay
it all up 'fore the hateful old man could sell it
off to some one else ? "

.. It looks like it," assented the gentleman. .
..And-andif Iwasrichandajudge, and

had lots of the King's money to use and a httle

girl, who had prayed about it, came and told me,

cause Miss Je-she's one of you, the littlest

p,n-cricd, and Miss Jo -she's the biggest
part of you-looked solemn, and the boys never
could go in there again to get drinks or have
their hands tied up when they cut them, and
this little girl who came to me couldn't ever
have any more gingerbread horses with an eye
and a tail -don't you think I ought to take a

good lot of money and pay the mortgage, and
comfort you. specially when Robert's dead and
violets stifle you ? "

ii8

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

Judge Wilde tried hard not to laugh as his
little friend reached this climax, and turned on
him her wide-open, solemn blue eyes. He put
his lips to her forehead and hid his face in her
curls, but the voice shook a little that replied
decorously : —

" Yes ; it looks so, I must say. But you
know one must be very careful and look into
matters before using another's money. I shall
want the word of the King."

" ' All things whatsoever ye would that men
should do to you, do ye even so to them.'
That's His word, and it was my verse this
morning," said the child triumphantly. " Miss
Je will die, and Miss Jo's heart will break, I just
know, if they have to go away from the yellow
nest. They were born there, and had a nice
lawn where the large house stands now, and our
schoolyard was their garden. They were rich,
and now it's all gone but just that little yellow
house and — and — their make-b'lievc garden not
as big as this office, and they haven't any papa

or mamr

if it was

on Jud<

form sh

" \Vh

a plea

uncle, a

the am(

do you

"Ye

Then

any bi

leaned

while 1

«VV

at lent

"Y(

does 1

will he

you V

some.

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

119

igh as his
turned on
He put
ace in her
lat replied

But you

look into

f. I shall

that men
to them.'
verse this
y. " Miss
•eak, I just
the yellow
had a nice
w, and our
were rich,
ttle yellow
garden not
t any papa

or mamma or any Robert, and I know I'd die too
if it was mc." And down went the curly head
on Judge Wilde's bosom, while the childish
form shook with sobs.

" Why, my darling, crying after making such
a plea as that ! Why, what a lawyer ! Kiss
uncle, and let us look it all over. Now tell me
the amount due, and who holds the mortgage, or
do you know, dear baby ? "

<'Yes; I know everything," sobbed Olive.
Then she sat up and answered questions as
any brave little advocate might. Her friend
leaned his face on his hands, watching her the
while he mused.

" What arc you thinking of, Uncle Judge ? "
at length she questioned.

" You are very like your mother, darling, and it
docs my old heart good to know it. The world
will have another brave, true woman, please God."
" Do you think so 1 I'm so glad, only — only
you know I don't always like to be good ; only
some, when it's easy and nice."

120

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

He smiled and kissed her, caressing the beauti-
ful head.

"What will you do, Uncle Judge.? Do you
think p'raps tha King sent me } "

" I feel pretty sure He did."

She clapped her hands. " Then you will save
the little yellow house, you darling man," .she
cried. " I knew you would, and you arc too
good for anything, and i love you — heaps,"
throwing her arms about his neck and hu"--
ging him to strangulation. "You're just an
angel."

" Minus the wings," laughed the judge.

" They never have any, papa says ; he don't
think so , and I believe like papa. O, dear
Judge Wilde, v/hen will you pay it all up.?
May I tell my dear J's to-night .' "

" No, no, my dear ! you must be very good,
and say never a word to anybody. There may
be difficulties to overcome. There, don't look dis-
tressed. Birdie ; uncle can't bear that ; it's sure
to come out right if it's the King's business,

and I'll
submitt

It Wc

disturbc

have g(

rose h;

reached

" Wh

gravely

the clas

" Pre

Good-b

the doi

" That'

the wo

"Al

suppos

"N{

momei

sun bi

to Ch

up to

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

121

the beauti-
Do you

1 will save
nan," she
Li arc too
— heaps,"
and luig-
; just an

he don't
O, dear
all up ?

:ry good,
liere may
t look dig-
it's sure
business.

and I'll be as speedy as possible." Then he
submitted to another hugging.

It was well, perhaps, that a rap at the door
disturbed the two just then, or Herbert might
have got tired of his street-corner. The judge
rose hastily to greet his visitor, and Olive
reached for her hat.

"When shall I see you again?" she asked
gravely, submitting to have her hat put on, and
the clastic placed under her chin.

" Pretty soon ; in the course of a week, I trust.
Good-by. Posie ! " kissing her fondly. Then as
the door closed he said, turning to his visitor,
" That's the sweetest bit of flesh and blood in

the world, sir."

"Ah! a baby-daughter or grand-daughter, I

suppose .-■ "

" Neither ; " something like a cloud for a
moment touching the fine old face. Then the
sun broke through. " Her mother brought me
to Christ, sir. I am one of a legion who rise
up to call her blessed. How can I serve you ? "

I 22

A LITTLE ADVOCATE.

Meanwhile the little lady in the hall stopped
a moment to readjust her hat ilacing the clastic
where it belonged ; under tl . curh instead of
the chin.

" lie didn't know any better, and I'd hate to
hurt his feelings," she .said to herself. " P'r'ps
little girls wore it that way when he was a boy.
He is old-fashioned, but just as sweet — as
sweet as mamma's old-time flowers that papa
likes so well. I'm like papa ; I love old-fashioned
things."

All
An

Ray saic

wonderf

It see

ber Tvf

almost

door ai

Herber

" Yo

terribl)

as he t

lall stopped

; the clastic

instead of

I'd hate to
f. '• P'r'ps

was a boy.

sweet — as

that papa
d-fashioncd

CHAPTER X.

PERHAPS.

In the childish heart below

All the sweetness seemed t.. grow and grow,

And shine out in happy overflow,

From her blue, bright eyes.

T. Westwood.

A WEEK was a long time for a little girl's
patience, but it lasted "by patching," as
Ray said, for he cheered her through its length

wonderfully.

It seemed strange to have a secret with Num-
ber Two unshared by Number One. She felt
almost guilty when she opened the study-room
door and beckoned Ray away. What would

Herbert think ?

« You see I'm coming into favor. Aren't you
terribly jealous?" asked the tease of his brother
as he turned to obey the summons.

123

1^4

I'F.RIIAPS.

"You won't feci bad, you darling, will you?"
cried Olive, coming in to kiss the neglected one
on his nose. " You are best, best " —

" Hester, bestcst ! go it, 01," said Ray, finish-
ing the comparison.
"No, I mean good " —

" Gooder, goodcst ; that's pure Saxon," per-
sisted the naughty boy.

"You know what I mean, don't you, Ilervie?
and you're never a tease. But I have to tell
Ray 'cause it was his secret at first, and he can
be nice when he tries."

The week ended with a summons to the par-
lor. "Judge Wilde would like to see Miss Olive
alone."

Papa looked up from his paper in astonish-
ment ; mamma opened her eyes; Ray whistled,
and the young lady herself glided out of the
room with great dignity, and a very knowing
glance cast at her brother.

" It's business, papa. I'll 'splain some other
time," she said loflily.

Businc

decorum
speedily
arms, co
mortgage
vinced it
been gn
Then he
the tran!
to papa.

So wl"
examine
told Mr.
story of
come. ]
as relate:
with tea:

Papa
permissi

"And
it be-au
the tint

PERHAPS.

1-5

will you?"
L>glcctccl one

Ray, finish-

Saxon," per-
son, Mcrvie ?
have to tell
, and he can

i to the par-
:e Miss Olive

in astonish-
R.ay whistled,
d out of the
'cry knowing

\ some other

Business, yes, and so dcli^ditful ! All the
decorum was shaken out of the young lady
speedily when the judge caught her up in his
arms, covering her with kisses, and put the
mortgage in her hands, telling her he was con-
vinced it was the King's business, and she had
been greatly honored as his royal advocate.
Then he pledged her to secrecy as to his part in
the transaction, and promised to tell the story
to papa.

So while the little girl wiled away Ray to
examine the precious documents, Judge Wilde
told Mr. and Mrs. Gardenell and Herbert the
story of the child's visit to his office, and its out-
come. It was a very pathetic yet amusing story
as related by the judge, and his listeners laughed
with tears in their eyes.

Papa said Yes, when his girlie came to ask
permission to go at once to Miss Jo's.

"And you know all about it now, papa. Isn't
it be-au-ti-ful .' " she cried. "And you're not
the tintiest bit jealous now, are you, Ilervie.'

126

I'KRIIAI'S.

'Cause you sec I couldn't tell, though I wanted
to awfully. Vou can go with Raynioiitl and mc
if you w;int to."

Ildbeit ckclined the invitation, assuring her
he had not had a particle of jealousy, and with a
sealed envelope, plaeeil in her hand by papa,
who whispered a message that set her dancing
all about the room, she at last departed with
Ray for company.

"Here it is. Miss Jo," cried the little girl,
dashing into the little house and thrusting the
mortgage and release into the lady's hand,
" Here it is, all paid off. You must read every
word of it before you look up, and you needn't
thank . . ^ body, 'cause I didn't do it. Oh! you'd
never guess who did ; and he doesn't want you
to know. He's one of the best of men — as
good, as good as my papa, only it isn't papa,
'cause he's not rich enough, and I'm so glad,"
all in a breath.

Miss Jo had been trying to listen and read,
too, as she stooped above the lamp ; now a look

of bev

the fa

believ

and w

the (p

you'll

now ;

niildl;

all p:i

in lu

her c

" I

little

<( c

Ral

woul
was
for
than

PERHArS.

127

iij^'h 1 wanted
lond aiul nic

assuring her
.y, and with a
ind by papa,
t her dancinj;
lepartcd with

he little girl,

thrusting the

lady's hand.

St read every

1 you needn't

it. Oh ! you'd

sn't want you

of men — as

it isn't papa,

I'm so glad,"

ten and read,
p ; now a look

of bewilderment came to her face as she scanned
the familiar iloeument. " Paid ! " she could not
believe he; e)es. What was that child saying,
and who had done this ?

"Oh! you needn't a.sk," cried Olive, reading
the question in her eyes. "Isn't it fun? And
you'll never know ; it's a forever secret : and
now you can stay here and be happy."

"What is it, sister.-'" asked Jennie, looking
mildly upon the two e.xcitcd people.

"WHiy, the mortgage, and it's paid, Jennie —
all paid. God bless that baby ! " with a quiver
in her voice ; " I don't see how we can thank
her enough."

" I didn't do it ; I don't 'serve thanks, only a
little for asking him to, you know."

"Somebody must be thanked," said Miss
Ralison huskily. This unexpected blessing that
would spare the dear old home to Jennie — it
was only of Jennie she thought — was too much
for her self-possession. "Somebody must be
thanked," echoed Miss Jennie.

128

PERHAPS.

"Then it's God, I s'pcct ; it's his money.
Judge — oh ! I most told — said so, and — and I
guess he must have told Ray to put me to work.
But it's all right, and you won't have to go now,
and the school children can come into the yard
as much as they like, forever and ever."

"Amen," said Miss Jo solemnly.

" Ain't everybody happy ? " cried the delighted
child. " This is a truly comfort, isn't it. Miss

Jo?"

"You're a blessed child," returned Miss Jo

fervently.

" I know it. Papa said so when I asked him
to let nie come here, and papa always tells the
truth. I guess I'm getting good some — oh! I
most forgot," searching her pocket. " Papa
says Mis- Jennie is too feeble to spend this
summer in New York, and you are to take her
to the mountains," putting the envelope in Miss
Ralison's hand. " It's money to go with, and
you oughtn't to cry," much distressed as Miss
Johanna gave a little sob, "'cause papa says

she'll c

papa al

'Di«

Miss J

"Yc

" but

worry i

self, ai

But si

Jo dai

« Y

me c

can d

you

foum

Ray'

he's

mim

"H(

'sec

PERHAPS.

129

money.
— and I
:o work,
go now,
;he yard

clighted
it, Miss

Miss Jo

ked him
tells the
— oh! I
" Papa
•end this
take her
s in Miss
vith, and
, as Miss
)apa says

she'll come back all right af.er her trip, and my
papa always tells the truth."

•Did any one ever see such a baby .>" asked
Miss Jo through her tears.

.-You're not a baby," began Olive soothingly,
.-but you're tired, and I know you have been
worrying about Je. You don't care for your-
self, and you're just splendid, and I love you -
But she got no farther with her speech, for Miss
Jo darted for her and caught her in her arms.

■ 'You won't take thanks, and you won't let
n.e call you baby, so. Tommy, I don't see as I
can do anything for you but give you a kiss ; but
you are a comfort, sure; though h. v you ever
found out abc-t it I don't see."

-Oh! Ray found out, and he guessea it.
Ray's very smart, and good, too, sometimes, and
he's waiting f.r me, ' she cried, suddenly re-
minded that all this time Ray stood without.
<.He wouldn't come in. 'cause he don't like
•scenes/ and papa told me not to stay long, so
I must go."

i:>o

PERHAPS,

Two women kissed the bright little face
" Goo(l-by " to-night, and one said, so distinctly
lliat Ray caught every word as the dooj opened,
"Jennie, we must make Tommy another horse."

lie laughed as he tucked his sister's arm
under his own.

"You'd soon have a stable full if you saved
them, Princess. What did they say >"

" Oh ! everything," sighed the little maiden.
" You ought to have gone in if you wanted to
know ; I couldn't begin to tell."

" Try ; that's a duck," coaxed Ray.

" Ray Gardenell, some things won't let you
tell them. I'd like to, but I can't. It was just
too lovely for anything. I guess p'r'aps Miss
Jo is the biggest woman, after all — biggest in-
side, you know. Ray Gardenell, let's be good."
"When.'" startled at her abruptness.
"Now — always; it's nice to be good. You
are a darling when you try ; you've been just
be-au-ti-ful in this ! S'pose we turn real good
like mamma and Hervie .' "

"Su

to som

go ah(

fine C

you're

"D(

It's c

nice.

Ra)

at .' ai

out.

good,

the fi

he op

PERHAPS.

131

tic face
istinctly
opened,
horse."
;r's arm

iu saved

maiden,
anted to

let you
was just
aps Miss

ggest in-

le good."

Dd. You
Dcen just
real good

"Suppose we do," replied Ray. "I expect
to some day. I'm not quite ready yet ; but you
^0 ahead ; don't wait for me. You'd make a
fine Christian, I know ; mother's kind. When
you're good you always remind me of her."

"Do T ? Am I like her to-night, Ray dear .'
It's comfortable to have people think you're
nice. I do like to be good some."
Ray laughed. " I guess it is some."
" Now, Ray Gardencll, what are you laughing
at .' and you are so tall you are pulling my arms
out. I don't like tall boys. Let's begin, and be
good, do."
" When .' "
" To-night."

"Too soon ! I've some fun on foot this week."
" Well, next week, then. Ray, will you ? "
"Perhaps," assented Ray as he bounded up
the front steps and pulled the bell.

" Perhaps." Mr. Gardenell heard the word as
he opened the door, but did not catch its mean-

CHAPTER XI.

TRYING TO BE GOOD.

'Tis strange when babies will do wrong

They always take to sinning,
Amid a choice of naughty things,

The way which is most winning ;
Anrl make our capture more complete,

By always adding sweet to sweet.

S. R. G. C.

GUESS," said Mamma Gardcnell, holding
up a letter as papa seated himself at the

supper-table.

Papa looked very wise. "From Jessie," he

ventured.

"Oh ! you peeped."

" Ray left it on the hall table, and as I passed
I noted the post-mark and handwriting," con-
fessed the gentleman.

" But there's news."

" Good V I

132

"Ver

to spcm

Mr. <

" What

papa hr

"Oh

ling?"

let any

love an

do me,

"Nt

"Be

"N(

fied H

as I 1

could

you n

to ler

and t

you s

TRYING TO EE GOOD.

133

.. G. C.

holding
If at the

ssie," he

I passed
ig," con-

«' Very. Jessie is coming with her two girls
to spend the summer with us at Bloomingle."

Mr. Gardenell looked at his little daughter.
"What will my girlie do then, I wonder? her
papa has only two knees."

"Oh ! I'll have, I'll have Hervie, won't I, dar-
ling ? " turning to her brother. " You'll never
let any one but me sit on your knee, and never
love anybody else in all the world so well as you
dome, will you, Herbert?"

" Never," replied her brother fondly.
" Be careful, my son," said papa warningly.
" Never while you love me best, sister," modi-
fied Herbert.

"A bargain ; and I shall never break it as long
as I live," cried Olive warmly. "As if I ever
could love anybody as well as my Hervie ! Oh !
you needn't look jealous, papa, 'cause you 'tend
to lend your two knees to Aunt Jessie's girls,
and they're both mine, you know. But I'll love

you some."

"And mamma?" inquired the gentleman

134

TRYiNG TO BE GOOD.

dubiously, "must mamma be punished for my
sins ? "

"No; I always love her just like Hcrvie, and
— and you're nice some."

Aunt Jessie was coming — was on the way
indeed ; but this part of the news the parents
kept to themselves, intending to surprise their
brood.

" Olive, you haven't been in a scrape for a
week. I'm getting an.xious about you. What
is the matter .' "

"Why, I'm being good."
" I thought so. Olive, I'm afraid you'll die
young." The sepulchral tone startled the wee
girl not a little, yet she said bravely, —

" Ray Gardenell. do you s'pose God would
take papa's only little daughter from him just
'cause she's trying to be good? 'Sides, I'm
only good some."

"That's it," said Ray, changing his tactics,
"and some good don't amount to much, espe-
cially when molasses candy is in the wind."

"Wb

"Kit

delicioi

"We

off con

"It

science

genuin

be out

My! 1

01i\

"\\

that 1

cand;

forta

cess.

no s:

TRYING iO BE GOOD.

135

led for my

-Icrvic, and

in the way
he parents
•prise their

;rape for a
ou. What

I you'll die
led the wee

God would
m him just
'Sides, I'm

his tactics,
much, espe-
wind."

" Where ? " inquired Olive, interested.
"Kitchen; Jane out; coast dear; smells

delicious."

"Well, I'll just go and peck." So Ray went
off contented with his stratagem.

"It isn't wicked," he said, to soothe his con-
science. " She is deceiving herself ; it's not
genuine. Good some is no good ; might as well
be out-and-out naughty and have that candy.
My ! how nice it smells."

Olive soon made her appearance.
" Where's your apron, Ol ? "
" Oh ! I've only come to peek. I won't take
more than a tiny taste."

"You know mamma won't like it if you soil

that new dress."

" And you know she don't allow you to make
candy without Jane's permission."

" Tit for tat," laughed Ray, somewhat uncom-
fortably, however. " Take your own way. Prin-
cess. Jane needn't be so cross ; I'm sure there's
no sin in making molasses candy."

136

TRYING TO BE GOOD.

" Not in naking it," said Olive significantly.

" What authority has an old servant girl, I'd
like to know .' What sin is there in disobeying
her.' I'm not going to be bossed."

" O, Ray Gardencll ! you know it's disobeying
mamma when you disobey Jane in her own
'realm,'" said Miss Olive loftily. "Mamma
'splained it all to me. Jane is queen in the
kitchen, mamma said, and must be obeyed."

" Nonsense," said Ray tartly. " It was never
explained to me. ' Not a bit of canciy shall you
make to-day,' .she said when I asked her, and it's
no use to appeal to mamma. Why need Jane
be so cross ? "

" She isn't always ; not when she bakes us
tarts and things."

"Well, I didn't really mean to disobey," con-
tinued the boy, as much to reassure himself as
to enlighten his sister. " Fact is, I gave it up ;
but I came in after a string and found this mo-
lasses all turned out just on purpose to tempt a
follow."

" Y(
if you
Ray
what
" PerV
throu]
takes
Wl
molaj
and s
Ray
a mo
the s
who

she

Sha

dres

was

TRYING TO DE GOOD.

137

ficantly.
It girl, I'd
lisobcying

lisobcying
her own

" Mamma

:n in the

:yed."

was never
shall you

;r, and it's

leed Jane

bakes us

bey," con-
himself as
;ave it up ;
d this mo-
te tempt a

.. You must 'sist temptation, Ray Gardenell.
if you want to be good."

Ray shook with laughter. " We shall sec
what we shall see presently." he prophesied.
.'Perhaps, good little girl, we shall be all
through before Jane gets back. She generally
takes the afternoon when she goes out."

What a delightful time they had ! How the
molasses boiled up and over ; how they mixed
and stirred and tasted ! Olive forgot her dress.
Ray his compunctions, and Harry coming ni for
a moment forgot his play and remained to share
the spoil. When the fun was fairly at its height
who should appear but Jane.

.. Now. Master Ray, this is how you obey,"
she cried, "and you the son of a minister.
Shame on you. Miss Olive Hook at your pretty

dress.

But Olive had no time for reflection. She
was pulling the lovely yellow stuff, and offered
a piece to Jane to mollify her.

.. I don't want it ; 'twould 'choke me. What

138

TRYING TO UE GOOD.

with working like I Cud to get the kitchen straight
before the company came — though to be sure
they'll see little of it, one does like things
nice. What is the use of scrubbing the floor
and the chairs? See the marks of your feet,
Master Harry, all over that scat," and out
bounced Jane in high dudgeon.

" O, dear!" sighed Olive, "why can't every
body be good .' It's so selfish to spoil folks's
fun." And Ray laughed slyly.

" P'r'aps Jane thinks we's spoiling her fun,"
said Harry, wi' i a rueful look at the chair he
had muddied. " P'r'aps she likes things nice."

"P'r'aps," assented Olive, "but she oughter
be willing to suffer some, 'cause she's a Christian,
and there's always things to bear. How do you
s'pose she thinks we bear her scolding ?" in an
abused tone.

" Let's make her taste our candy," suggested
Ray.

" Oh ! let's, let's," cried Olive and Harry in a
breath.

Out

hands,
saw \.\

u PI

Jane,
plead
"G
your
and I
morr
moss
aunt

then

enin
t(

crie(
(I

do i

fun

spe(

TRYING TO HE GOOD.

139

n straight
be sure
vc things

the floor
>'our f'jct,

and out

n't every
)il folks's

her fun,"
; chair he
i"s nice."
i oughter
Christian,
w do you

?" i

in an

suggested

[arry in a

Out to the back room they rushed, candy in
hands, filling Jane's heart with dismay as she
saw the door-knobs in their sticky fingers.

" I'lease take a taste," they petitioned. " Dear
Jane, for my sake, "cause I'm sorry I'm naughty."

plead Olive.

'• Go away, naughty children ! I won't touch
your stuff," declared Jane, motioning them off,
and continuing to sprinkle the clothes for to-
morrow's ironing. "Get through with your
moss and be off, so I can clear up before your
aunt comes, and tea's to get."

"Aunt," said Olive, "what aunt?" Just
then Ray ran for Jane, holding his candy threat-
eningly.

" Get away ! get away from my clean clothes,"

cried the maid.

"Then taste it," he laughed. "If you don't

do it willingly we will have to make you."

"Yes, yes, we will," cried Olive, alive to the

fun in a moment. Han r joined them and

speedily the victim was surrounded, i'earful of

140

TRYING TO HE GOOD.

her washing Jane moved away from tho basket
of clothes, the trio dancing around her, brand-
ishing their weapons, laughing and yelling like
lunatics.

" Taste it," cried Ray.

•' Taste it," cried Olive, and Harry echoed the
refrain, and Jane, laughing and scolding, the
ludicrousness of the accnc mollifying her anger,
assented to a '^ingl'^ taste. This would not do
now ; she must take a bite from each ; and sud-
denly upon the stage appeared Herbert, thrust-
ing his head through the door with, —

" Ray, Olive, Aunt Jessie and our cousins are
come." And still brandishing her candy his
sister dashed out after him to greet the new
comers. Wiser Ray dragged Harry to the
kitchen sink and doused him mercilessly, then
hurried up the back stairs to repair his own
toilet.

"Aunt Jessie, dear Aunt Jessie," cried Vhe
sticky little girl, all unmindful of her plight.
Her cousins started back in horror from this

wretched r

and took tl

" O, you

she cried,

as she hel

believe yo

give me a

Then C

and blush

the new

nice she '

Aunt Je;

little hea

she crept

cry. If

Hcrbc

when a

the pari

He pcej

bunch c

smiled

inquire^

TRYING TO IlK COOP.

I4>

^ basket
■, brand-
iny like

hoed the
ing, the
:r anger,
1 not do
and sud-
t, thriist-

usins are
andy his

the new
/ to the
isly, then

his own

:ried Vhe
;r plight.
:rom this

wretched apparition, but auntie sprang forward
and took the sorry little girl in her arms.

"O, you blessed child, how sweet you arc ! "
she cried, laughing and kiss.ng the sticky face
as she held the morsel away f.>r inspection. " I
believe you are a child after my own heart. Do

give me a bite.

Then Olive caught a glimpse of mamma's face
and blushed. For thr first time she remembered
the new dress and U.e injunction to sec how
nice she could keep it. Had mamma expected
Aunt Jessie and meant to surprise her. The
little heart sank, and seizing an early opportunity
she crept away to her own room to have a hearty
cry. If only she ever could be good.

Herbert was hurrying through the upper hall
when a sob caught his ear. It came through
the partly-closed door of his sister's chamber.
He pcej^ed in and saw such a disconsolate little
bunch on the floor, all molasses and tears. He
smiled as he advanced, and kneeling beside it,
inquired into the cause of her trouble.

142

TRYIxNG TO BE GOOD.

"Tn\ always naughty, and Aunt Jessie will
think I'm ti'ily bad ; and, O, Hcrvie ! can you
love me any more? Mamma is grieved, and —
and I did try to be good for a whole week."

" I know it, darling ; and you've been beau-
tiful until to-day. How did this happen > "

" It's all Ray's fault. He coaxed me to help
him," she sobbed.

•' And made your dear little feet go downstairs,
and your dear little hands pull candy, and your
dear little mouth eat it."

" O, Hcrvie ! you know he didn't."

" I thought not. Then Olive is the naughty
one, after all, is she ■ "

"Yes; some," reluctantly; "but it smelled
awful nice, and — and " —

" And you took your poor little nose where it
could smell it. Abused little nose, I ought to
kiss it."

Then Olive laughed, as he intended she should.

" Suppose now," he proposed, " I turn lady's
maid and help you on with an^dier dress.

be good

TRYING TO BE GOOD.

143

Jessie will
2 ! can you
ved, and —
.veek."
been bcau-
)en ? "
me to help

downstairs,
', and your

le naughty

it smelled

3e where it
I ought to

she should,
turn lady's
her dress.

Auntie will miss you. Let's wash the face and

hands first."

It was so funny to have Ilcrvie washing her
face she grew quite merry, and especially when
he tried to brush her hair.

" VoLi don't know how," she laughed.
" No ; but it docs not need much. Just a Utile
brushing and a fresh ribbon will make it pre-
sentable. Now, what dress shall we wear > "
" Any you please, Herbert ; you pick it out."
" Then we'll have this pretty blue, and a white
apron. There, you are as sweet as a violet,
only we must take off that ribbon and put a
blue one on these darling curls," kissing them
as he spoke. "Now, precious, you will try to
be good for Hervie ? "

" It's no use, the wicked's inside," said the
child dolefully.

" Yes ; i-^ut God is great and can make us
good inside. That is what Jesus came for; if
you ask him he will make you ' beautiful within.'
Kneel down by brother just a little minute."

144

TRYING TO BE GOOD.

Two little dimpled hands in two larger, boyish
palms, one little flushed cheek pressed into a
warm neck : —

" Please forgive little sister, dear Jesus. Teach
her to believe in your love. Make her as beau-
tiful inside as she is outside, and keep her little
heart and hands and feet all for your own use.
In thy dear name we ask it."

" Now, Precious, just one kiss. Mamma and
auntie are in the back parlor."

" What is it about that Herbert of yours that
makes him so uncommon.-'" Mrs. Rogers was
asking Mrs. Gardenell as Olive entered the
room.

"Why, he's never in a hurry, Aunt Jessie,"
answered the little girl, advancing to the lady's
side.

" He seemed in a great hurry a few minutes
ago when he ran off with Tom's letter," laughed
auntie.

"O, Auntie! did he have a letter, and — and
he never rea.' it. He came into my room and

TRYING TO BE GOOD.

rger, boyish
:sst;d into a

esus. Teach
her as beau-
:cp her little
ur own use.

Mamma and

i yours that
Rogers was
entered the

unt Jessie,"
to the lady's

few minutes
:er," laughed

r, and — and
ny room and

washed my face and combed my hair, and —
and prayed."

"Is it possible!" ejaculated the lady, tears
springing to her eyes. " What a boy ! "

"That's what I meant, Aunt Jessie. He
seems in a hurry, and I guess he is, but he
always makes time to listen and comfort and
love people. He's just the darlingest darling."

•' I guess you all are, my cherub," laughed
Mrs. Rogers, taking the little blue bundle in her
arms and kissing it enthusiastically, "if you
do occasionally get too sweet. I always could
endure any amount of sugar, but not a drop of
vinegar. She loves her brother, it seems, and
'tis very becoming to her, and so is this blue
dress and white apron. Turn around, Posey-bud,
and let auntie tie your ribbons. You haven't
learned to make a good bow yet."

" You mustn't," replied Olive gravely, gently
releasing herself from her aunt's hands. " My
own Hervie tied it, and I like it just so. It's
nice if it isn't, you know ; 'cause he loved me

146

TRVING TO BE GOOD.

while he was tying it, and put a kiss right
under the bow."

" We never object to a sash or bow
When Little lilac Ribbons prefers it so.

Loyal Chick, I don't wonder Ray calls you Prin-
cess. Yensic, where did you get her .■' "

" From Heaven," answered mamma, smiling.

" O, mamma ! did you .' " Olive came to her
mother's side and lifted astonished eyes. " How
could you bring mc down here to get wicked,
and lose all my pretty angel-ways ? I never
knew before I was so good. I guess p'r'aps
that's why I like to be good some " —

There Olive stopped because she must, for
Aunt Jessie was smothering her with kisses.

invade

Harry
., It-
have s
ing at
are al
if onl;
in clo^
Herbc
boy.
aunti(

L kiss right

CHAPTER XII.

it so.

lis you Prin-
r ?

la, smiling,
came to her
r^es. " How
get wicked,
5 .'' I never
ucss p'r'aps

e must, for
1 kisses.

TRYING TO FLV.

Two little feet braced well ap.irt.

Two arms like bird-poised wings,
A joyous rain-washed, upturnt'l face.

Lost to ail carnal things.

CoRNELLA Sherman.

MRS. ROGERS loN^ed litde people, and
early the very morning after her arrival,
invaded the nursery and was having a romp with
Harry and Eddie when their mother appeared.

" It's just like you and Herbert Gardenell to
have such children," she said in greeting, look-
ino- at little Eddie with coveteous eyes. Mine
are all of the prosaic sort. There's Elsie, now,
if only she can get her head in a book, she's
in clover. She will want to study theology with
Herbert, I have not a doubt ; pity she isn't a
boy. Come here, my cherub, and tell your
auntie what you are made of."

147

148

TRYING TO FLY.

" Dirt," said Eddie promptly ; and was won-
dertully astonished when Mrs. Rogers went off
into convulsions of laughter.

" Dirt, indeed, you precious. Uncle George
has whole acres of it that he would give for just
one darling baby boy like you."

Eddie was looking at her out of very wide-
open eyes. "God makes 'em," he said gravely,
" only p'r'aps sometimes he 'ets de 'ittle andels
help him."

Then auntie knelt down before him and put
her arms about his neck.

"Wise little baby. I've not a doubt God
made you. He made your papa and mamma be-
fore you. Now, catch me if you can," and off
she went on a race, bound to " dispel the dis-
mals," as .she said, and keep that baby from grow-
ing wings too soon.

In the uproar of fun that followed the fond
aunt proved speedily that Herbert Gardenell's
children were substantial flesh and blood, if they
were "angels."

Tk
Rogei
Germ;
the br

right

Harr)
«< V

Garde

mend

younj

my 1
stood
"\
"I b
ural.'

« T

Itho
sunn
Tige

TRYING TO FLY.

149

1 was won-
rs went off

cle George
ivc for just

very wide-
lid gravely,
ittle andels

im and put

doubt God
mamma be-
n," and off
oel the dis-
f rom grow-

:d the fond
Gardenell's
ood, if they

That afternoon Mr. Gardcnell drove Mrs.
Rogers and her daughter Elsie to their cousin
Germainc's, and Olive sat with her mother in
the bnrk parlor, learning to knit.

"Marnma," she began, "I don't think it's
right to allow Mary Ann to talk to Eddie and
Harry about angels and Heaven and all that."

•' Why not right, daughter .''" questioned Mrs.
Gardenell, looking up from a garment she was
mending.

" Oh ! why, for lots of reasons. They're too
young, and " — hesitating.

— " And what ? " continued mamma. " Will
my little daughter try to make herself under-
stood ? "

" Why, it's this," cried the child impetuously,
" I b'lieve it makes them die, Eddie isn't nat-
ural."

" How long since ? Less than an hour ago
I thought him the merriest baby that ever shook
sunny curls as he scampered with Harry and
Tiger over the lawn."

ISO

TRYING TO Fl.Y.

«'0 yes!" admitted Olive. "lie is a funny
little fellow. But — but he talks uneartlily some-
times, mamma, and 1 is eyes l(v.k so big. and I
b'licve he loves Heaven and Jesus more than he
does MS. It just isn't right to teach babies so
much ; they die young ; it weans them from

earth."

Mrs. Gardenell's beautiful mouth parted to a
smile. She knew her little daughter was quoting
some authority.

"Strange," she said, "that all the teaching
you had in that direction failed of such results."

" Not a wing has come out.
Not the weeniest sprout,"

rhymed Ray maliciously from behind the cur-
tain, where he was pretending to be reading, and
had been undiscovered until now.

Mamma placed both hands to her cars to shut
out the shocking rhyme, at which her boy
laughed. B".t Olive said shan ' y, " Vou needn t
make any ' comets,' Ray liardenell ; not a pin
feather of your wirgs has been seen yet."

" Trii

brother

failure

Mam

droppei

and 01

"Til

isn't lil

has ta

good 1

I told

out of

nebbei

ittlc a

I, Har

showe

01i\

seen '

angels

harm
Oli'
from 1

, a funny
lily sonie-
)i<;, and I
e than he
babies so
icm from

artcd to a
as quoting

; teaching
:i results."

1 the cur-
lading, and

irs to shut

her boy

(HI needn t

not a pin

yet.

)

TKVINO TO FLY.

'5'

"Truth, my shining 'comet,'" retorted her
brother. " Wc are both notable e.xamples of
failure in early training."

Mamma shook her head, and the curtain
dropped instantly, shutting out the saucy face,
and Olive continued : —

"There's a difference in children. Kddie
isn't like anybody else, and, mamma, Mary Ann
has taught him that ang-ls have wings, and
good little boys turn to angels when they die.
I told him it wasn't true, and he looked at me
out of his solemn eyes and said, * Mary Ann
nebber tells ennysing but the truf, and I sectl a
ittle andel myscf 'wid davlin' ittle wings, didn't
I, Harry ? ' And when I wouldn't believe it, they
showed me a picture Mary Ann bought them."

Olive was very indignant, but mamma had
seen the innocent little print with its winged
angels about the baby Saviour, and feT-^d no
harm from its enjoyment. She said so now.

Olive sighed, and a dismal groan answered her
from behind the curtain.

•5^

TRYING TO FLY.

"Kosy don't think so," slie said, determined

to treat her tormentor with the ,contemi)t he

deserved. "You sliould have seen how she

hjoked when she went to tell the boys a story

the other day, and ICddie said, ' I don't yant

to hear the ittle yed hun, Wosy ; tell luldie

'bout tiie i)itty antlcls where he id goin' by
and by."

"Oh! little — mother — v;oman," here inter-
rupted the irrepressible, darting his curly head
between the curtains again, " I wish you could
have seen Rosy that afternoon. I was an un-
seen spectator of the whole scene."

" You always arc where you're not wanted,"
said his indignant sister.

" If this much-abused fen^alc will permit me
to make a few ' comets ' upon that story for
your special benefit, mamma, I promise to retire
and give her the floor for the remainder of the
afternoon.

" The nursery door was ajar as I passed by,
and I peeped in. There was little Ned making

his plea,

in horrc

him in,

going t(

"Not

ran coh

my life

when E

" ' D(

wings ;

me.'

the chi'

ov the '.

his littl

think (

blocks.

the litt

a word

clane (

at all,

would

dapc \

TKVING TO FI.Y.

153

determined
3ntcmi)t he
n liow she
oys a story

don't yant

tell luldie

d goin' by

here inter-

cnrly head

1 you could

was an un-

ot wanted,"

permit me
t story for
isc to retire
ider of the

passed by,
Jed making

his plea, and Rosy sittin- with both arms lifted
in horror, and mouth wide open, as if to take
him in, and thus forever end his chances of
going to ' dc andels.'

"Not knowing what thi^ portended, my blood
ran cold, but I remained ready to defend with
my life, if need be, my brothers, my only sister,
when Eddie continued thus : —

"<Dere id bufid andels, Wosy, wid cunnin'
wings ; Mary Ann showed them to Harry an'
me.' Then Rosy burst forth: 'Heaven save
the chil.lcr ! did wan iver hear the like ? to think
ov the likes ov that babby wid sich notions under
his little shkull. Ah ! me babby-b'y, ycr not to
think of angels, and sich, but jist ycr play and
blocks. Come here,' holding out her arms to
the little chap, ' come here, me darlint, and niver
a word do you mind ov May'ran McAloon's. It's
clane crazy she bez, and not iver a bit ov brain
at all, Pt all. She wouldn't know an angel,
would she, if she sthumblcd over thim a mile
dapc piled up in the stratc ? Wings, is it ? In-

TRYING TO FLY.

dadc yc'll l)c wantin' jackets and pants fust, I'll
be Ihinkin' '." And Ray burst into a peal of
laugbtcr at the rcmonibrancc, joined by his
audience, for Ray was a natural mimic, anil his
imitation of Rosy was inimitable.

"Wliat did ICddie say to that?" asked the
amused lady.

" ' Dere id andels, Wosy ; ' that's what he said,
mamma," rejilied Olive. "And he sli>)ok his
heail at her, and told her Harry and he were
going to see them soon : ' Idcnt we, Harry .' ' "

"And O, mother," again interrui)ted Ray,
unmindful of his late agreement, "guess what
our young professor of investigation answered,
' Yes ; I would like to go for a little while to see
what their wings are made of, and how they
fasten them on.' I beg your pardon, sis. I'll
go before I forget again," and off ran the lad
without confessing that he had spent two whole
afternoons ii. the construction of a pair of
wings for Harry's special benefit, and that they
were safely hidden away in his bedroom, ready

to be tri

charge tl

It was

clear. I

adjusted

eyes, thi

ties to t

" You

said he '

his own

Long

lay talk:

daring i

whcreb;

unseen

sensitiv

"Wc

com par

later tv

secret

room I

her ekl

TRYING TO FI.V.

155

ts fust. I'll

a pL'iil of

:d by his

ic, ami his

asked the

lal ho said,

sli>)()k his
:1 he were
larry ? ' "
[)ted Ray,
jucss what

answered.
,'hile to see

how they
1, sis. I'll
an the lad

two whole
a pair of
1 that they
oom, ready

to be tried on after Mary Ann had left her
chart;e that evening.

It was prayer meeting night, so the coast was
clear. Harry was dressed, and the wings were
adjusted to his shoulders, fastened by hooks and
eyes, the sewing on of which ta.xed Ray's abili-
ties to the utmost.

" ^^)u can put them on and off as you please,"
said he to the little fellow, as he carried him to
his own room to survey himself in the mirror.

Long after Ray left them alone the two boys
lay talking of the wonderful wings, and Harry,
daring and ambitious, soon had a plan arranged
whereby he could try his treasures the first time
unseen by any but ICddie, for Harry was very
sensitive to ridicule, and he might fail.

•• We ought to ask little Cousin Marion ; she's
company," suggested Eddie; and a few minutes
later two tiny white-robed figures disclosed their
secret to the little girl who slept in the small
room opening from theirs. Mrs. Rogers and
her elder daughter had not returned from Prof.

'->»J^

156

TRYING TO FLY.

Gcrmaiiic's yet, and this wcc one, scarcely older
than Harry, was left with the babies, in Mary
Ann's charge.

Marion asked so many questions that Harry
grew impatient. She was naturally a slow child.
Her mother declared that she was born with her
mouth wide open in astonishment at finding her-
self in the world, and had never closed it since.
Aunt Jessie's pet name for her youngest born
was at least expressive, — "speckled gosling.'"
I he dear freckled-face, inquiring child was just
the opposite of her mother. " Born not to
beauty, but greatness," that merry parent said,
and Mr. Gardencll assured her that she would
have reason to be proud of Marion some day.
" She does not ask questions for nothing."

It was beautiful spring weather. Every day
now the children were permitted to be out as
much as they pleased, so conscientious little
Eddie had no questionings in his little heart early
though it was when they awoke next morning.
Their cousin was roused, and breathlessly they

TRYING TO FLY.

157

scarcely older
ibies, in Mary

IS that Harry
y a slow child,
born with her
at finding her-
osed it since.
'oun<,rest born
vied gosling.'"
:hild was just
Born not to
^ parent said,
lat slie would
on some day.
Dthing."

Every day
to be out as
ientious little
tie heart early
icxt morning,
ithlessly they

prepared to depart. A queer-looking trio they
were as, hair uncombed, faces unwashed, and
clothes half on, carefully carrying the wings
between them, they crept downstairs.

No one was astir. Even the kitchen maid
had not arisen. The door-fastenings withstood
their efforts, but they effected their escape
through a window, and went out to spy the land
and the best place for the flight. The prospect
looked dubious until they espied a ladder left
leaning against the barn.

"De andels did yant you to fly, Harry," said
Eddie, with child faith. " Dick, he fordet to put
away de ladder. De andels make he fordet."

" I'm afraid it's too high," said cautious Harry.
"If I should fall.?"

" Den you'd be a ittle andcl, an' have truly
wings."

•'Only good boys make angels," answered

Harry.

" We's dood," stoutly affirmed the tiny

brother.

158

TRYING TO FLY.

"What you s'pose mamma would say if she
knew ? " questioned the older boy, with a con-
science evidently not well at ease. Eddie stood
still ; the first thought of any possible wrong in
the premeditated pleasure had come.

" 'Et's go back and ask mamma," he said.

But Harry was bound to try the experiment.
"Mamma's asleep, and papa says never to wake
her, Eddie."

" Ask papa, then .' "

" He's out. I heard them come for him 'cause
some one's dying. He went a long time ago."
Harry had not been able to sleep for excitement.

Eddie was much inclined to give the whole
thing up, but Marion at last settled the question
in her funny slow way : —

" Would it be wrong to do what angels
did?" This was unanswerable, and seemed to
remove the last objection.

Slowly they mounted the ladder two at a time,
Eddie ahead, and Harry with the precious wings
across his back, behind. The barn had a French

roof ; th(
by dint
landed, ai
descendci
he at las
on the ro
of return
the wing!
ently all

" Hadr
anxiously
we yant '.

But H
persisten
He had
Eddie th
marched

"You
Eddie, w
frightene
were pre
prayer cc

TRYING TO FLY.

'59

Id say if she
, with a con-
Eddie stood
ble wrong in

ho said.
; experiment,
ever to walce

3r him 'cause
5 time ago."
r excitement,
e the whole
the question

what angels
d seemed to

wo at a time,
ecious wings
lad a French

roof ; the ladder hardly reached the top. But
by dint of pushing and boosting, Eddie was
landed, and the wings beside him ; then Harry
descended for Marion. It was after much labor
he at last drew himself up, and the three were
on the roof-top. No one thought of the matter
of return ; one was going to fly. With difficulty
tlie wings were attached to the hooks, but pres-
ently all was ready.

" Hadn't you better pway first .' " asked Eddie
anxiously. " 'Cause you know if we id naughty
we yant Dcdus to forgive us."

But Harry was older and wiser. He knew
persistent disobedience held no place for pardon.
He had been well instructed. He did not tell
Eddie this ; he only said he wasn't afraid, and
marched to the edge of the roof.

" You won't care if I shut my eyes .-• " cried
Eddie, with almost a sob, for he was getting
frightened. Under his tightly-closed eyes tears
were pressing, and through his closed lips one
prayer came over and over, —

i6o

TRYING TO FLY.

" Dcdus, Dedus, help Harry to fly, and let us
not be 'icked "

Herbert Gardencll had never gotten over his
olden habit of answering every call of distress.
It was a common thing for him to be summoned
to the bedsides of the unknown, unsaved, un-
happy. From such a scene he was returning
this bcautit'id spring morning. How fresh every-
thing seemed ; as if just from the hand of God.
As he turned from the city to the suburbs,
where his own home stood, his heart swelled
with gratitude. He had just watched another
soul pass over the silent river, just pointed a
dying one to Christ. How strange that men
left these things of greatest moment to the last
and least fitting hour of life. It is good to serve
God! How kind the dear Father is to him!
His nest is so full of precious, twittering life.
He is early, so turns into the gate. No ; he will
go and look at the grape-vine back of the barn
that Dick spoke of yesterday. "The Almighty
often hangs great weights on slender wires."

What
bundles
move,
shining (
thing wi
quick to
with Ha

" Ano
with a s
the httlc
fatal. ^
under tl
is taken
won't C2

A qui
that que
two str(
two que
ministei

Harr}
as kiss
then he

TRYING TO FLY.

I6l

and let us

;n over his
of distress,
summoned
nsaved, un-
i returning
fresh every-
md of God.
le suburbs,
art swelled
led another
t pointed a
; that men
t to the last
ood to serve
is to him !
ittering life.
No ; he will
of the barn
he Almighty
r wires."

What is that on the roof ? What odd little
bundles are these ! Jlis step quickens, they
move. That little crouching something with its
shining dome — can it be Eddie .' But that other
thing with hideous outstretchcL .vings.^ He is
quick to think — to understand ; he is acquainted
with Harry's secret propensities.

" Another scientific experiment," he ejaculated
with a smile and groan. He dares not speak as
the little figures near the edge ; a word might be
fatal. Stealthily, but rapidly, he glides along
under the barn. The win^i are spread, the leap
is taken. He hears Eddie's childish cry, " You
won't care if I shut my eyes .-• "

A quiver 'mid air, a little quaking of a heart
that questions, " If I had not been here ? " and
two strong arms envelop the little flyer, and
two queer kite-like things are flapping about
ministerial ears.

Harry's eyes were shut, too, but they opened
as kiss after kiss was pressed on his face, and
then he was set gently on his feet.

1 62

TRYING TO FI.V.

" Id you fycd, Harry ? " piped the little voice
above.

" Yes, darling," answers a voice he loves be-
low. '• Now, you fly. Just jump to papa," and
unhesitatingly the little fellow leaped to the
arms awaiting him. Papa caressed the golden
head as he said, —

" God sent me to catch my little flyers just
in time. If the dear Lord ever forgot, or was
anything but the good God he is, mamma would
be weeping over one of hci little boys now."

"There's another one, papa," said Harry
gravely. " Cousin Marion is up there."

"Little Marion !" in wonder ; then, "Wait a
wee, darling, uncle's coming," and over the lad-
der sped papa.

He had to smile as he caught a glimpse of a
figure stretched out flat, face just projecting over
the roof, and gray eyes intently watching the
scene below.

"Why didn't you let him fly.'" asked the
serenest of serene voices, as he took her in his

arms,
ing. L
have lai

"On
he kissc

Then
morninj
evil doe
small ei
the broi
there w
and wit
tie boy
breakfa

Mar>
that "1
babbies
whatev

"My
Rogers
great ri

"All

TRYING TO FLY.

163

c little voice

he loves be-
o papa," and
iped to the
, the golden

e flyers just
)rgot, or was
amma would
ys now."

said Harry
2rc."

len, "Wait a
over the lad-
glimpse of a
ojecting over
kvatching the

" a.skcd the
ok her in his

arms. " Now we've had all our trouble for noth-
ing. Uncle Herbert, where do you think he'd
have landed if you hadn't caught him ? "

"On his nose," responded uncle, laughing, as
he kissed Aunt Jessie's "speckled gosling."

There was always a little fire in papa's study
mornings, and it was always a "haven of rest to
evil doers," as Ray averred. There three very
small evil-doers had a nap that morning, two on
the broad couch, and one in the big chair, then
there was a talk and a nice prayer all around,
and with faces washed and hair combed, two lit-
tle boys and one little girl were led into the
breakfast room.

Mary Ann had just been telling the mistress
that " not hide nor hair of those two blessed
babbies could she find, or a stitch of their clothes,
whatever could have become of them."

" My gosling's missing, too," commented Mrs.
Rogers. " But she's too philosophical to run
great risks ; they'll turn up."

"All women are prophets," quoted Mr. Gar-

1 64

TRYING TO FLY.

'.Icncll, opening; t'.e door lu cime to hear this
last, anu presenting his trio.

What became of the wings remained i mys-
tery to Ray. When questioned the httle fel-
lows only shook their heads and looked at eacn
other with laughing eyes as if they knew some-
thing worth telling if they would. And the
owners of those heads knew, and those roguish
eyes had seen the wings go up in flames, and
papa standing by cheered Harry on as uc ap-
plied the match.

;o hear this

.ined i mys-
he little fi.1-
oked at eacn

knew somc-

And the

lose roguish

flames, and
n as iic ap-

CHAPTER XIII.

AT DLOOMINGLE.

We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.

riiiLii' Jamls Hailky.

NOW that Aunt Jnssie had come prepa--^ ■
tions were soon completed for a remo'-
to Bloomingle, as Mr. Gardenell's residence on
the b?nks of the Hudson was called. The place
was a gift from Judge Wilde, who gave it this
name in honor of the book Yensie had written
in the days of her sorrow.

This beautiful house was large and roomy,
surrounded by lawns and gardens, in full view of
the river and close to wooded haunts. It had
come to Mr. Gardenell before his little girl was
born, and there Olive first opened her blue eyes
to the world, much to the delight of the judge.

That this precious baby, born in the new home,
i6s

m<:--

166

AT ULOOMINC.LE.

should be a yirl, tlic only c;iil of the hoiischvjlcl,
was source; of iicvcr-cnding joy lo the {^ood gen-
tleman, and she became his favorite among his
pastor's children, the place hitherto given to
Herbert.

The boy was more than willing to abdicate in
favor of his darling sister, and whether the old
man or the young lad took greatest pleasure in
her first speeches -nd trembling attempts to
walk, would be hard to decide. They vied in
their attention to the wee lady, and she repaid
their devotion with unstinted affection.

In this home were garnered the attractions of
many lands, the rarities not only gathered by
Herbert Gardencll and his wife during their trip
to Palestine, but pictures, statuettes, rocks, gems
and shells, tlie fruits of the many sojourns the
judge had made in foreign countries. Here was
Olive's grand piano, a gift from the same kind
friend on her sixth birthday, mamma's cabinet
organ and papa's library of restful, helpful books
of travel and standard literature. Here Judge

Wilde w;
his time

school-b

their st

hurrah I

Latin f

Hcrv, :

your be

vacatioi

Herl:

hurt rr

yourse

friend.

he is s'

of thin

"N(

" Don

tion ?

durini

about

AT BLOOMINGLE.

167

: liouschoUl,
10 t^ood gcn-
among his
to given to

T abdicate in
ther the old
t pleasure in
attempts to
rhey vied in
i she repaid
ion.

ittractions of
gathered by
ing their trip
, rocks, gems
sojourns the
;. Here was
le same kind
ma's cabinet
nelpful books
Here Judge

Wilde was always welcome, and spent much of

his time in summer.

" Farewell, old friends," cried Ray, hustling his

school-bcM,ks, helter-skelter, into the closet of

their study-room. "Take a good rest, do;

hurrah fur fun, and not a K^i^P^c of algebra or
Latin for two whole months, at least. I say,
Hcrv, you needn't smuggle that Horace into
your box of specials ; papa forbids study during

vacation."

Herbert looked up with a smile. " I shall not
hurt myself, old fellow, be sure, any more than
yourself. I asked permission to carry this old
friend. It will be just sport studying with papa,
he is such a delightful teacher and knows no end

of things."

" No books ! " Elsie Rogers looked her horror.
"Don't your father allow any study during vaca-
tion ? I should think you'd lose all you gained
during school time."

•< Which shows how much you do not know
about the Rev. Herbert Gardenell," laughed

168

AT ni.OOMINfiLE.

Ray. "Wait a wcc. Don't tell her, Ilcrv; let
her find out as it comes. You sec, cousin mine,
our papa is himself and nobody elso, and has his
ways of doing things."

Which, indeed. Miss Elsie found out to her
entire satisfaction. No study? No, not a bit,
but such delightful additions to knowledge with-
out a seeming effort at attainnicnt.

"O Ray, you are a favored boy!" said this
young miss smiling, as, coming from a chemical
experiment just finished in Mr. Gardenell's
laboratory one day, this graceless lad, making a
grimace, said quizzically : " No study } t should
think you'd forget all you ever didn't know. "

" I tell you, coz," he made answer to her re-
mark, " you're only beginning to get the first
glimp'^c. You wait. There arc oceans, mount-
ains, cou.' tries, planets left yet to explore. You
want to hear father read Shakespeare, so that
even I get charmed with the musty old chap;
then there arc the magazines, and Mark Twain's
latest. I shouldn't know anything if it wasn't

for the '

get all tl
fellows :
tions ju:
it is a fi
We'll ha
tower tc
feeds up
and of (
let his
meal."

Well,

flowers,

Here v

sketchii

riding

amount

vulsed 1

some b;

a sly tc

ke''^hic

coughs

AT Ill.OOMINGLR.

169

, Hcrv ; let
ousin mine,
and has his

out to her
, not a bit,
'ledge vvith-

" said this

a chemical

Gardcncll's

1, making a

1 should

: know."
r to her re-
let the first
ans, mount-
plorc. You
are, so that
y old chap ;
ark Twain's
if it wasn't

for the • no study ' months at IMoominglc. I
get all the material with which I astonish the
fellows at school over my brilliant composi-
tions just from this source, and the best of
it is a fellow hasn't to cram for a word of it.
We'll have a clear night soon and go up in the
tower to get acquainted with the stars. Papa
feeds up every summer while at the old ' Hloom,'
and of course it wouldn't do for a minister to
let his children starve while he enjoys a full

meal."

Well, it was delightful ; the long rambles for
flowers, the examination of rock specimens.
Here was geology, astronomy, botany, music,
sketching, reading, and all intermingled with
riding and boating parties, and the largest
amount of innocent fun. Mr. Gardenell con-
vulsed his audience at times with laughter over
some bit of comic literature, and elicited many
a sly tear at others, wiped on half-drawn hand-
ker-hiefs with averted faces and incipient
coui^hs. He never appeared anywhere without

170

AT BLOOMINGLE.

a trio of children at his heels, and led them into
trials of speed which taxed the fleetest-footed of
their number, and trials of skill and strength
that Liought out any amount of ingenuity beside
health and amusement. Elsie Ro, rs was de-
voted to him. Marion was ever at his side, and
all deplored his occasional calls to the city.

" I don't wonder Herbert keeps young,"
laughed Mrs. Rogers, looking from the window
one morning as he played tag with the children.
"There, if Olive hasn't coaxed the judge into
the sport. I do wish George and Fred were
here."

" So do I," said Mrs. Gardencll heartily,
drawing her chair nearer the open window,
through which floated the merry voices. " Do
tell me about Fred ; she is the only one of your
children I have not seen yet. We have been
too busy to have a real good long chat since you
came. Suppose we take it now. Tell me about
all your girls."

"Thev're beautiful," said their mother, in her

AT BLOOMINGLE.

171

1 them into
st-footcd of
id strength
uiity beside
rs was de-
is side, and
c city.
OS young,"
the window
ic children,
judge into
Fred were

.'11 heartily,
;n window,
liccs. " Do
one of your
have been
it since you
tV. me about

)ther, in her

sprightly way, " only they are all girls," dolefully.
" Why couldn't I have had one boy > I tell you,
Ycnsie, George and I coveted your Herbert when
he was with us last summer. It was hard to give
him up again. We missed the fun he and Tom
Burton made in the house. Indeed they were
inseparables. Mrs. Burton said she hardly real-
ized she had a boy while Herbert was there, hers
was home so little ; and he was inconsolable
after Herbert left. George used to join tb.cir
romps, and, I too, for that matter. He was a
real godsend. Mabel had just married and
gone, and we felt as if we had buried some one
until your boy came. He cheered things won-
derfully. He is his father's self over again.

" As to Fred, she does her best, and is the ne.xt
best thing to a boy. I still make her part her
hair on one side, and keep it short. I'm bound
to come as near as I can to the missing article.
George says she is as good as any boy in the
hay-field, but you need not looked dis^rcsised, she
is low-voiced and womanly, Ycnsie. She spent

172

AT BLOOMINGLE.

last winter with Lois, at Chicago. Being the
only boy, we missed her, but she needed a
change, she is such a home-body. Lois has
everything nice, is happy with her husband, and
has a girl-baby. So, you see, I am grandma,
and should be proud enough if it were to a
grandson. How time flies ! Imagine me with a
daughter twenty-five years old. I must be old,
though I don't feel that I am. If your first
Herbert had lived, darling, he would be a man
now. Do you realize it .'' "

" No," answered Mrs. Gardenell, a little sadly.
Any reference to her lost darlings moved iier
heart. They had lacked so much, and there —
she looked out at them with tear-filled eyes, —
how full their cup,

" Neither do I," continued Mrs. Rogers, un-
mindful of her friend's agitation. " Fact is, one
needn't grow old because the years multiply.
One can't stop them, but they need have noth-
ing in the world to do with them ; simply ignore
them and keep the heart fresh. Age begins

AT BLOOMINGLE.

173

Being the

needed a

Lois has

isband, and

grandma,

were to a

• mo with a

list be old,

your first

be a man

little sadly,
moved iier
id there —
ed eyes, —

Rogers, im-
pact is, one
s multiply,
have noth-
nply ignore
\ge begins

within and works out ; I haven't the least bit of
a wrinkle on my he irt. I am astonished, Yensie ;
I did expect to see you somewhat changed, but
you are your olden self, hai)py and care-free as
the birds, and as nuisic-fuU. Your voice is not
broken, and Olive inherits that gift of yours,
lucky chick! I see you find time to be inter-
ested in everything, and yet, judging from the
week I spent with you in town, you have great
and continued demands on your strength. The
position of pastor's wife, in your case, at least,
seems to be no sinecure."

Mrs. Gardenell smiled. " Yes ; I have both
hands full, and my heart must have wonderful
stretching capacity to hold so much, for it never
feels strained; but I have such a guardian and
helper, Jessie. So few are blest as I," tears
again springing to her eyes. " I am watched so
constantly by such loving eyes ! It is wonderful,
and to me ever suggestive of those never-weary
Eves above, the jealous care with which my hus-
band surrounds me. He always knows when I

1/4

AT BLOOMINGLE.

have (lone just enough, when rest is needed, and
he assures it, too, by warding off all that comes
near. lie has such a way of compelling without
compulsion, of shielding without seeming effort.
He stands like some natural bulw rk between
me and every hardship, beating back the incom-
ing waves by his very position. Yet I share all
his labors and thoughts and burdens. I could
not be denied th.at privilege, but it is the light
end of the cross I carry ; the end that lifts one
into the joy of fellowship, without the pangs of
martyrdom. I wish he would spare himself as
he does me."

" And who arc yon, if not the dearest and
best part of himself ? " asked a cheerful, manly
voice beside her, for Mr. Gardcnell had entered
unperceivcd, and heard her closing words.
" Ennie dear," laying a fond '..and on her head,
" I need no sparing. It is glorious, just the
privilege of work, hard work, for the Master. I
never suffer. Every hour of anxiety and toil for
his sake is its own exceeding great reward. I

seeni to

comes so

tinually z

within m

look at 1

say noth

earth, n'

seventee

tion, rer

love to I

through

Now

tears we

up to m

fondly t

" Her

tears, "

your wi:

I'm glai

"So

and adc

would

iccdcd, and
that comes
ini;' without
mn'^ effort,
k between
the incom-
I share all
3. I could
s the light
It lifts one
e pangs of
himself as

earcst and
rful, manly
ad entered
ing words.
I her head,
s, just the
Master. I
anc' toil for
reward. I

Ai PLCiOMINGLE.

175

seen, to 'lave pcrennia^ springs within, and He
comes so nigh, lifts cross and Nearer so con-
tinually and consciously, lives so beside, around,
within me, I know no need. Then, sister Jessie,
look at my church, my home, my childnui, to
say nothing of this best, this sweetest gift of
earth, my wife. I've known no need these
seventeen years, no need but deeper consecra-
tion, renewed thankfulness, and purer, greater
love to Love divine that by strange paths led me
through self-renunciation to unutterable joy."

Now Jessie was crying softly, and Yensic's
tears were dropping even while her eyes shone
up to meet his love, and while her lips pressed
fondly the dear hand on her arm.

" Herbert Gardcnell," said Jessie, through her
tears, " only one woman on earth was fit to be
your wife ; such devotion would spoil most of us.
I'm glad you've got her."

" So am I," responded the gentleman heartily;
and added playfully, "What sort of Providence
would you make, : • onder, if you fitted more

176

AT I5L00M1NGLE.

than one woman for one man ? I assure you,
Jessie, much of what we ministers are called
upon to do in that line is simply carpentry ; job
work that cannot possibly be pleasing to the
Master Builder."

How time flew at Bloomingle. A month!
Could it be possible ? VV^hcrc had the days gone ?
Another, "and not a scrape worth mentioning,"
as Ray declared ; while Olive added, " W'c never
do get into trouble when we have papa to play
with. It's easy to be good with him. Aunt
Jessie, don't you s'pose that's the reason that
folks are always good in Heaven, 'cause Jesus
looks at them and plays with them ? I s'pect
He is like my papa, some."

" I s'pose you're a wee darling, and I s'pect
you know more about Heaven than I do,"
answered Aunt Jessie enthusiastically, kissing
tlic mouth that questioned.

Vacation was really done. School would
commence next week. Papa and the boys
always went back to the city then, though

{

mamma
mained
occasioi
over th(

"It's
begin c
Why, S
months,

But
Jessie,
her to r
at Blooi
Fred vv(
make a
course,
tearful t
soon set
decided
not rem

" Alt(
summer
say one

AT DLOOMINGLE.

^17

assure you,
3 arc called
pcntry ; job
sing to the

A month !
3 days gone ?
iicntioning,"

" \Vc never
)apa to play
lihii. Aunt
reason that
cause Jesus
1 ? I s'pect

md I s'pect
ban I do,"
ally, kissing

;hool would
.1 the boys
hen, though

mamma and the little people sometimes re-
mained a while longer, the boys running up
occasionully on Friday afternoon, and stopping
over the Sabbath.

"It's a shame," Ray spluttered; "school to
begin on the very best month of the year.
Why, September and October are the crowning
months, as papa says."

But inexorable is Fate, and so was Aunt
Jessie. In vain Mr. Gardenell tried to pe raa *
her to remain a few weeks longer with hib ■.-■■:-'.
at Bloomingle. Her time was up. George and
Fred would begin to expect her, and she must
make a couple of short visits on her homeward
course. So the pleasant house received the
tearful farewells of the children, and they were
soon settled again in their city home, for mamma
decided to go with them, as Aunt Jessie could
not remain.

"Altogether, it has been such a delightful
summer," Elsie said. " It would be a shame to
say one regretful word to mar it." So Ray, who

178

AT lU.OOMINiJLE.

had been her devoted cavalier for the ivccks
pas' to the great amusement of the older part
of the company, tried hard t(^ stifle all com-
plaints, at least in her presence.

" I':.\Lremes meet," laughed Mrs. Ro;j;crs, as
h r nearly eighteen-year-old daughter, and the
not quite fourteen-year-old lad, paced the back
veranda, arm in arm, the night before she was
to start westward,

IMr. ("lardencD smiled. "What shall I do
with him when he is twenty .? " he asked.

" Send him to me if he is too much for you.
I prophesy you will be proud of that boy some
day. Herbert, what will you take for one of
your boys ? "

" Not in a mood for money-making to-night,'*
responded the gentleman, his eye upon his son's
tell-tale face. "God bless that dear little
woman," he continued presently. "Jessie, dear
sister, the world needs women as well as men.
God gives you one crop to raise and me
another, both for the kingdom. Some day

kv>-'-

AT m.noMINGI.E.

1/9

r the weeks
ic older part
iflc all com-

;. Ro;j;ers, as
iter, and the
:cd the back
fore she was

t shall I do
le asked.
Rich for you.
hat boy some
e for one of

ing to-night,'*

ipon his son's

t dear little

" Jessie, dear

well as men.

aisc and me

Some day

some man will bless you for that Christian
daughter."

"Come here, my speckled gosling," called
Mrs. Rogers to her small daugh.ter, passing by,
at this moment, with Olive. "Conic here.
Uncle Herbert (.'vcs me a liulc ImiK', and I
want to kiss you. f wonder am I growing pioud .'
I don't believe you are (|uite as speckled as you
used to be. Kither that, or Olive has taken
on some tan. Herbert, since your crop is to be
boys, suppose I take your girl along with me.'"

For answer Mr. Gardenell stooped and opened
his arms, and, as his one choice girlie sprang
into them, he folded )ier to his bosom and
chanted softly, as he walked up and down, a
verse of the twenty-third psalm, his wife was
wont to sing, " My cup runneth over, runneth
over ; " and Aunt Jessie sluu her eyes and list-
ened with a rapt face, as tlic little girl's voice
caught up the strain, " Surely goodness and
mercy shall follow me, shall follow me all the
days of my life."

CHArXKR XIV.

IN TlUaC WE TKUST.

Silence I Silence! Silence!— I'ray I

Kvcry moment is an hour,
Minutes long as weary years.

Henry Baieman.

I WOULDN'T go, Ray."
" But I've promised."
" A promise to do wrong ought to be broken.
Tell the boys, in thinking it over, you have de-
cidvd it's not the thing to disobey father. Be
manly about it."

" Oh ! but you sec I haven't so decided ; my
brother bar done that for me. Besides, I'm to
furnish half the cash for the supper. They'll
think I'm dead broke or growing stingy."

"You stingy!" Herbert laughed. "Give
them your share of the money, then ; that will

iSo

stop all

we are

strictly

his per

" Wl

Any 01

Harry.

since J

Her

"01

fellow

quire ?

older

I'm ta

if he

two."

a tele

and tl

as if ]

a chic

IN Tlir.E WE TKUST.

l8l

\ 1 EMAN.

! broken,
have de-
her. Be

dec! ; my

>s, I'm to

They'll

" Give
that will

stop all that sort of supposition, liut don't go ;

we are not at Bloomingle now, and father has

strictly forbidden us to go on the water without

his permission."

" What docs father take me for, I wonder.

Any one would think I was a little shaver like
Harry. I'm going, anyway. It's been dismal
since Aunt Jess took Elsie off."

Herbert smdcd and lifted his eyebrows.
« Oh ! you needn't look so knowing. Can't a
fellow like his own cousin, I'd be happy to in-
quire ? She's just the thing if she is four years
older than I am. Four years aren't many, and
I'm taller than she is already. I asked father
if he didn't think I looked the older of the

two."

" What did he say ? "

" Oh ! he looked through his hand as if it was
a telescope, and said ' some,' just as Ol does,
and then caught me under the arms and laughed
as if I had been a standing joke. I say I'm not
a chicken, why shouldn't I like a girl or row a

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'f.

IN TIIEE WE TRUST.

boat. I wonder. I can manage an oar. When
a fellow's fourteen he ought to have some liberty."
.. For shame, Ray, when father lets us do
every possible thing we ask that isn't positively
wrong or dangerous. You know there isn't one
of you could mange a boat under difficulties."

" Who's going to have difficulties ? You'd
better tell Jonas Cowles he can't manage a boat.
Why, he's a splendid hand. His father isn't
afraid to trust him on the water anywhere."

'« Then he has his father's permission," said
Herbert quietly, quite sure to the contrary.
Jonas Cowles was a boy he did not like, and it
troubled him to have Ray with him so much.
<■ Suppose you follow his example in that respect.
Then if father says No, his mouth is shut."
" And he'd be sure to say No."
" He might offer to accompany you."
« And spoil the boys' fun. You see they are

in for sport."

" When did father ever spoil fun, I'd like to

know ? "

■*^i"-&>s^»«'

■i,(ijj.^t.r;yV?'?»'V' „,

an oar. When
ve some liberty."
thcr lets us do
t isn't positively
w there isn't one
cr difficulties."

ficulties .' You'd

't manage a boat.
His father isn't

r anywhere."

permission," said

to the contrary.

d not like, and it

ith hin^ so much.

)lc in that respect.

uth is shut."

,ny you."

You see they are

lil fun, I'd like to

IN THEE WE TRUST.

183

" Well, they'd think so ; Cowles wouldn't
budge. Now, Herv, remember this is an out-
and-out secret. 1 had no business to tell you,
only — only I don't feel right, and that's a fact,
in slying off without a word."

" Ray, honor bright, you know the whole thing
is wrong."

" Well, no," slowly ; " not in itself. How
can an innocent sail on the river be wrong .' The
only thing crooked is not telling father about it,
and that's out of the question, as you see."

Herbert did not see, neither did he reply ; in-
stead he pursed up his brows and looked at his
brother out of troubled eyes.

" There, don't you come father with your ' Look
of Fate,' as Ol calls it," said Ray irritably. " I
declare, you're the image of him, and quite as
old ; the best thing you can do is to take orders.
It's no use," waxing wrathy, "I'm not going to be
pinned down or kept from the water. I'm bound
to learn to manage a boat and command one,
too, if I have to run away for my chance."

V V 'v«-« ' -ai^'i |; '^yi-

184

IN THEE WE TRUST.

" And break mamma's heart."

.. Pooh ! Little mother-woman isn't so soft as
all that. She'd yield if she thought I was called
to it." with a contemptuous curl of the lip. " She
can do anything when she wills. What a splen-
did oar she is. anyway. I was proud of her that
day Judge Wilde and Aunt Jess went with us
for a boat-ride. Such little hands to make such

neat strokes."

.' Yes ; and father said you were doing famously
that day', too. Oh ! he intends you shall learn
and have all you want of it. but he has been
pressed with care lately, and can't find time for
boating. He's as fond of it as any of us."

..But a fellow can't wait forever. I was cut
out for a sailor ; I'm finding my calling, and I'll
be one some of these days, you'll see. I'll have
a vessel of my own -a beauty- and take you all
around the world. You needn't look at me out
of such eyes ; I kngw what you're thinking ; but
mamma will sail across the briny deep m my
own bark yet. my hearty. Anybody'd think, the

^ ^.W*».<'

UST.

nan isn't so soft as
lought I was called
irlofthelip. "She
Us. What a splen-
is proud of her that
Jess went with us
bands to make such

were doing famously
nds you shall learn
it, but he has been
3 can't find time for

as any of us."

forever. I was cut
T my calling, and I'll
you'll see. I'll have
jty_ and take you all
;edn't look at me out
you're thinking ; but
le briny deep in my
Anybody'd think, the

IN THEE WE TRUST.

1S5

way you talk, that little mother was a bundle of
nerves. Who was it quieted that crazy man
who escaped from the asylum and invaded the
woman's prayer meeting that day ? Why, he
was like an infant in her hands, and walked
back to his keepers lamb-like. And who is it
hushes that crowd of vagabonds at the Mission
by just lifting her hand and opening her mouth
to sing ? She is never afraid of the worst man
or woman among them, Mapes says. Oh! our
mamma is a wonderful little woman," cried Ray,
getting warm over his favorite theme, "and I'd
like to see the person who would deny it

or —

"That her son is the sweetest flatterer in the

world," said a tender voice, while two arms en-
circled the boy's neck.

.'Mamma, you here!" rising, and flushing
crimson. What might she not have overheard ?
" How long have you been listening to us ? "

.' Fie ! my son, I thought mamma was a won-
derful woman, and now you suspect her of act-

■mm

...^ '■■-•.'■•

1 86

IN THEE WE TRUST.

ing the spy on her boys ; as if that was ever
necessary. I wanted something from this closet
and just stepped along in time to hear your
culogium. You must bo^h be in earnest dis-
cussion not to hear the door open. What is the

subject up?"

" Mamma," answered Ray, putting both arms
about her, and thus hiding his face from view,
"our dear mamma," shaking his head furtive^
at Herbert, finger on his lips. His brother un-
derstood this was to enjoin silence on their late
conversation, and he motioned back that his lips
were sealed only on one condition, the giving
up of the whole project. Ray nodded a hasty
assent, and mamma, unconscious of this by-play,
having opened the closet door to which Ray had
conducted her. laughed as she made answer from
its depths, " Surely there can be no difference
of opinion between Numbers One and Two on
such a theme ; two. such loyal subjects queen
never had before."

<• We will always be loyal," Herbert said, kiss-

^^™*-33Bfc*- - -

■:a'M':'::^7iii

lUST.

if that was ever
rig from this closet
iiiie to hear your
be in earnest dis-
pen. What is the

putting both arms
lis face from view,
his head furtive'y
. His brother un-
lilence on their late
d back that his lips
idition, the giving
ay nodded a hasty
ous of this by-play,
• to which Ray had
: made answer from
1 be no difference
( One and Two on
yal subjects queen

Herbert said, kiss-

IN THEE WE TRUST.

187

ing her as he helped lift the bundle she sought
from an upper shelf. " Loyal till death."

" And after," laughed Ray, springing to take
the bundle and carry it to the sitting-room, thus
avoiding further talk with his brother.

Herbert was not troubled as the majority of
boys are, with scruples about "telling" on his
brother. If mischief was in the air and he could
prevent it he was bound to do so. Yet he was
not a tell-tale, and Ray would have been first to
knock the boy down who dared call him such.
Number One was in the habit of reasoning with
Number Two, who generally confided his proj-
ects to him, and usually succeeded in talking
him out of them. When Ray passed his word
Herbert rested. " There never was a more hon-
orable fellow," he often asserted. So he went
to school that afternoon with a light heart and
was not suspicious even though Ray failed to
put in an appearance at the supper-table.

" Off somewhere with the boys and forgot
himself, I suppose," he answered to his mother's

comment at this unusual occurrence. He gave
a little sigh of satisfaction when he found him-
self in the study-room alone ; as he recalled Ray's
pledge he was sure his brother was not on the
river : he had his promise to that effect.

" Have I a boy at command ? " asked mamma
pleasantly, fully an hour after, putting her head
into the room where Herbert sat alone with his

Latin.

"Number One at your servi:e in a half-min-
ute ; only another line to translate."
"And where is Number Two ?"
"Still among the missing," responded her
eldest cheerily. "Won't I do as well, mamma ?"
" You will do, but hardly as well. Then I
am really uneasy about Ray ; he seldom trans-
gresses like this. Have you no idea of his
whereabouts, Herbert?"

" Why, he must be all right, mamma. You
know Ray is honorable." Yet his mother's un-
easiness communicated itself to him in spite of
his assurance. " Why won't I do, mamma ? "

i:Jj!im»^-

-"—--• •■ -■-! ■ -1-

Irust.

IN TIIEK \VF, TRUST.

189

urrence. He gave

^hen he found him-

as he recalled Ray's

her was not on the

that effect.

id ? " asked mamma

sr, putting her head

rt sat alone with his

2rvi:e in a half-min-
anslate."
rwo .' "

ng," responded her
o as well, mamma } "
ly as well. Then I
y ; he seldom trans-
you no idea of his

ight, mamma. You
ii:'ct his mother's un-
If to him in spite of
t I do, mamma i "

" A ba.sket for old Auntie Stewart. You
know she will be sure to say, ' Why didna me
ain bra' laddie bring it .' ' "

"And I'll answer as sober as a judge, your
ain bra' lad has Lrought it, Auntie."

"And her reply, " smiled Mrs. Gardenell. "It
is no use, Herbert, Ray's jolly little speeches
have won the first place in her heart, and she
will .say, ' To be sure. Master Herbert, your me
ain lad, but it's the curly-pate with his wee bit
fun I'm after asking for. I hope he's weel, this
evening, and no forgets old auntie.' "

" But, if the basket mun go, it mun go,
mamma; and you'll want it there before dark."

All the way to Mrs. Stewart's Herbert reas-
sured himself. He was vexed at his own un-
easiness, growing fast as he recalled his mother's
troubled face. Could Ray have been overper-
suaded, after all .' " Of course not. He is the
soul of honor," he answered himself. " His nod
is as good as his word." Nevertheless he de-
cided to consult his father if Ray was still miss-

''^J U t mf -

IQO

IN TIIF.E WE TRUST.

ing on his return. He met Olive at the Rate,
hat on. jnst returned from a call on a httle

friend.

-Herbert," she asked immediately, "where
did Ray go after school ? There was that old
Jonas Cowles and Ben Gordon and Ira Faulks
with him. Grace Turner met them, and she
said they were lauj^hing and talking as if some

full was on foot."

Her brother stopped abruptly in front of her.

.. O llcrvie ! " she said, reaching up to smooth
his brow with her little hand, "how that 'Look

of Fate • grows on you. Please don't let your

eyes go any deeper. I've told you all I know,
every word of it. and I dont -serve to be stared

' He kissed her. " Run in. Pet, and stay with

mamma. Play for her, sing that new song -do
something, everything-but don't lispaword of

what Gracie said. That's a dear ; HI go see
papa." And Olive who no more thought of dis-
obeying Herbert than papa when he used that

%a^^i ta»j0»' ' * ^'

IN THEE WE TRUST.

19»

RUST.

Olive at the gate,
a call on a little

Timcdiatcly, " where
There was that old

-don and Ira Faulks
met them, and she

,d talking as if some

•uptly in front of her.
-caching up to smooth
ind, " how that ' Look
ricasc don't let your
: told you all I know,
lu't 'serve to be stared

in, Pet, and stay with
ng that new song — do
but don't lisp a word of
L's a dear; I'll S" see
no more thought of dis-
,apa when he used that

tone, rr.n in, after a troubled Blance into his face,

and he hastened to the study.

A little later from the parlor window she saw
„a„a and her hrotherpass out and hasten down

rto street. Her mother, just beside her, saw
,bo„,, too. and a smile brightened her lips, .ow

muci, alike they were, her eldest son and her
precious husband. The lad was already nearly
„,, ,0 his father, and had the same pr.ncely
fi„„re, the same noble head. Her heart always
rt'rmed with pride when she saw them thus

together.

0„ they strode. Herbert had hard work to

keep up with his father. Straight for the river

they shaped their course, and reached it n, a

„,arve,o„sly short space of tin,e. It seemed

scarcely a moment to the boy since he stood m

the study repeating his fears, and now the boa.

was loosed and they out upon the water. H,,w
the little skiff bounded over the waves under
the manful strokes at the oar.

.. To the Point, did you say, Herbert ? that

jmVuit^

192

IN THEE WE TRUST.

was all tl.c word spoken. Mr. GardcncH had
been seized with the awful conviction of .mme-
diate necessity for action. A horror for wh.ch
he could not account, and which left no room
even for surprise, had taken possession of him
from the moment Herbert had uttered his f^rst
word. And now. hat pushed from his forehead,
locks free to the breeze, coat removed, he bent
to the oars as if life and death depended on
his exertions. Mow Herbert exulted in those
„.asterful strokes! His father was so gra..!.
so much a man in everything; he would be hke

him. God helping him. and then a sudden ejacu-
lation from the alert man sent his thoughts m
another direction.

They were midway across to the island ; a
boat approached. There were only boys m U
and one crouched over as if in fear. They had
taken in sail, and were coming slowly, but the
erand strokes of this single oarsman soon
brought the skiffs abreast. Herbert discerned
Jonas Cowles, Ira Faulks and Ben Gordon in the

lUST.

Mr. Gardcncll had
onviction of inime-
^ horror for which
vhich left no room

possession of him
rtacl uttered his first
d from his forehead,
it removed, he bent

death depended on
crt exulted in those
ather was so grand,
ig ; he would be like

then a sudden ejacu-

sent his thoughts in

OSS to the island ; a
were only boys in it,
if in fear. They had
oming slowly, but the
single oarsman soon
5t. Herbert discerned
and Ben Gordon in the

IN THEE WE TRUST.

gathering dusk. Vvhere was Ray? Perhaps
he didn't go, after all, " honest old fellow," he
commented inwardly, with a little self-reproach
that he ever had doubted him.

" What have you in the bottom there ? "
How stern his father's voice sounded ; not
a boy in that boat bu: shivered as he heard it.

" Ray Gardenell," answered somebody timidly.
"He fell in as we were pushing off; not very
deep, but he got tangled somehow. We pulled
him out, but he isn't conscious."

Another stroke, and silently as the boats met,
two hands passed Herbert the oars, took up the
motionless form beside which Ben Gordon
cowered, wrapped it silently in his coat, and
hastily resumed the oars. Forward with a
bound went the little skiff under a desperate

touch.

"Was Ray dead?" Herbert felt faint as he
caught sight of the white, upturned face. Did
the strong man ask himself that question also ?
On, on, back towards the city they went with

IN TIIEE WE TRUST.

From the baitman's lips
mighty plunges. From

dropped these words, these only: -

..Thou »rt God. our Go.1. InThee we trust.

Like n,usie they fell on the hoy^ars over

yonder, between whom and the speaker ay

that white soruething. " Our God. In Thee

„e trust." Herbert wept as he repeated then.

'"how short, how long a t,me sinec they left
that wharf where they landed again. Herber
never knew how the boat was fastened, or wha

happened next. The first he reah.ed severa

„U sailors were helpi.,g to lift Ray -'"-"W
.bed near by, and his father's voiec was saymg,

..Adoctor.myboy.bequiek!" Then he ran,
the last words in his ears those of one the
seamen, M think he's quite gone, s,r and hs
fathers ealm and reverent ar.swer,"Sm« God

lives, wc will hope."

Providence favored Herbert. Only a block or

two away he fairly ran under the feet of Dr.
Ford's horse. He was a friend of the fam.ly.

,Xv^^*^,:^^'ijy-^^".

IN THEE WE TRUST.

195

RUST.

he boatman's lips

)nly : —
In Thee we trust."

I the boy-ears over

id the speaker lay

)ur God. In Thee

IS he repeated them

time since they left
uled again. Herbert
was fastened, or what
it he realized several
o lift Ray into an old
ler's voice was saying,
^uick!" Then he ran,
rs those of one of the
uite gone, sir," and his
;nt answer, " Since God

erbert. Only a block or
, under the feet of Dr.
, a friend of the family.

and as he drew up, Herbert scrambled to the
seat beside him. How breathlessly he waited
as the physician felt for the heart and pulse of

his brother.

" I fear there is little hope ; no perceptible

pulse," he said sadly.

How his father's eyes gleamed in the dim
light ; what unearthly strength and beauty lit
up his fine face ! " With God, a little goes far.
There's abundance of hope somewhere."

And while they labored to resuscitate the
limp body Herbert crept back in a corner, and,
dropping on his knees, prayed There was
wrestling the ne.\t hour in that old shed; no
Jacob wrestled harder. One wrestled as he
worked, and one worked only wrestling.

" O, Lord, I will yield all my preferences, I
will do thy work, and thine only, while I live.
My life for his, dear Lord. I will be your slave,
go to heathen lands— anything — but spare him
till his soul is saved," moaned the boy under his
breath. And then as the sudden conviction

IN THEE WE TRUST.

.Ha. death had even .hen .aUen possession
„™„ghishear.,>ndespera.io„hecned,"W..h

Thee are .he issues of life. Oh ! bring him baek.
baek, back, un.il his soul is saved."

And ye. no. .he quivering of lip or nos.nl
gave sign of re.urning life.

.. Even so, Fa.ber, for so i. seeme.h good n
thy sigh.," a. leng.h moaned Mr. Gardenell,
Jing himself from above his boy and ra,smg

hi. e es in hear..broken resigna.ion .o Heave.
,N„I my »ill,bu. Thine be done." And , us.

then Dr. Ford said ferven.ly, "Thank God .
and one of .he old .ars uncovered his hea, and

,_ 1 .„r„ " Vc's be answered, yer
sobbed ou. brokenly, Yes ue

Riverence ; .he b'y brathes."

Brca.hes! They held .heir brea.hs as u,ey
™„d for ano.her gasp. Yes, surely, another ;
;ereis..fe,andwi.hag.ad,-.Herber.ou

GO. does answer prayer," .he fa.her ben ov
hi, son. Yes, he lived, and by and by, w.th .he
docor beside him, R.y was placed in an easy

"ns

■% I* ^-^iT--'-^^ •

UST.

taken possession
,n he cried, "With
h ! bring him back,
ived."
g of Up or nostril

it seemeth good in
led Mr. Gardenell,
his boy and raising
iignation to Heaven.
,e done." And just
tly, "Thank God!"
overed his head, and
's be answered, yer

cs.

heir breaths as tliey

Yes, surely, another ;

glad, "Herbert, our
' the father bent over
nd by and by, with the
was placed in an easy
and Herbert hastened

IN THEE WE TRUST.

197

ahead in the doctor's carnage to prepare the
household for his coming.

" Go to Martha, and have his bed made ready
at once." whispered Mr. Gardenell at the door,
with a pressure of his son's hand, and he turned
to his wife's room.

if'l':

^Jl!

CHAPTER XV.

THE DANGER PAST.
Ah. yes. His pity, like His heaven, is large.^ ^ ^

MRS GARDF.NELL had been passing a
wretched evening. In spite of her
little daughter's efforts to entertain her. all
through the hour spent with the wee boys her
heart had been heavy with some iU-defined
dread, some premonition of sorrow. A few
fnends dropped in. and she tried to be pleasant
and interested in their conversation, but her
thoucrhts would wander to the mssing boy. and
wonder that his father did not return. Some
one ought to be searching for Ray. Unwilling
to burden Olive with her fears, she dismissed
her at last, and felt relieved when she could go
to her room alone and pour out her heart before

198

THE DANGER FAST.

199

XV.

PAST.

leaveti, is large.

J. P. C.

had been passing a
In spite of her
> entertain her, all
th the wee boys her
ith some ill-defined

of sorrow. A few
e tried to be pleasant
:onversation, but her

the n-issing boy, and
d not return. Some
g for Ray. Unwilling
r fears, she dismissed
^ed when she could go
xr out her heart before
98

God. She had just arisen from her knees when
her husband found her.

" Darling, God is good to us," he said, kissing
her brow as he bent over her.

" O, Herbert ! what has happened ? "
Something of the strain, the agony of the
. past hours may have been in his voice ; much of
the joy of deliverance from a great sorrow.
This one whose every heart-throb had long since
learned to vibrate to the cadence of that be-
loved voice -to whom the slightest variation of
his tone was understood -this one knew that
danger was past, that some great blow had been
averted, that her husband needed her now, and
as she sprang to her feet, the question on her
lips, she turned to the door, adding, —

" I am ready, darling. Yes, God is good.
What am I to do .? "

"Thank Him, first, that our Ray is saved
from an awful death -from drownin;;. I hear
the carriage coming. God bless my brave little
wife!" For Herbert Gardenell had never yet

^»i-

20O THE DANGER PAST.

come to Yensic. whatever the exigency, and

found her unready.
Together they met the burden at the door;

he proud and exultant, and not to be dismayed
at the white face and wilted body before wh,eh

his wife paled ; but, in spite of an inward s,nk-
i„g, no one responded more calmly to every .
demand of the physician or assisted more efR-
eiently at that bedside than Yensie Gardenell.
Herself was put aside, and when everything was
arranged for the night she insisted that she
alone must watch by the couch while others

rested.

Herbert had found his little sister wa.tmg for
him in the hall, crouched on the top stair, when

he went in search of Martha.

" What are you doing here, Pet ? "
.. O Hervie ! I couldn't sleep. Mamma sent
„.e to' bed. but I was so afraid. I didn't say
one word to her all the evening, but my heart
f,,, ,o-so dizzy, and I most know hers d.d
too. She didn't want me to s'pect anythmg.

J-a

^ii-nn"--^"*

lST.

he exigency, and

rden at the door;
ot to be dismayed
body before which
of an inward sink-
e calmly to every ,
assisted more effi-
Yensie Gardcnell.
hen everything was
; insisted that she
couch while others

tie sister waiting for
, the top stair, when

-e, Pet ? "

sleep. Mamma sent

afraid. I didn't say

vening. but my beart

most know hers did

; to s'pcct anything,

fff

i :, 11

■ r\

\iV\

1 1 M

; I 'ill

! Hi''

',1

'dt

THE DANGER PAST.

20 1

and I didn't \ nt her, and we were such misyer-
able hypocrites. I wish I hadn't promised not
to tell. It's just dreadful to be making b'lieve
happy when p'raps something awful is happenin'
to your own brother. Hervie, tell me truly, did
Ray go on the river with those boys, and is he

dead .' "

" He went on the river, but he is safe, darling.
God has given him b; ck to us, and now you
must hop into bed like a precious."

" Oh ! I can't, I can't ; don't ask me too, Hervie.
I'll be just as good and just as still, but I won't
leave you again to-night. 1 feel safe where you
are, and my bedroom is so lonesome."

What could Herbert do but kiss the tearful
little face, and, putting a shawl about her, allow
her to follow him to Martha's room, thence to
Ray's, and so into the very scene he longed to

spare her ?

" Please come in here," he said, opening the
door of his own pleasant chamber as he heard
the carriage wheels approaching. She followed

i H

ii'

(•

: ■' r

: m

I'': ;

ti i;

202

THE UANGER PAST.

hin. but only to spring out into the hall agam

^v.hcn the heavy steps aseended the sta.rs.

.. Don't look. cWt. Olive." Herbert said, put-
ting his hand over her eyes. Too late! She
had caught a glimpse of that deathly faee, and
was clinging to him in mortal terror.

MIeisdead.I know he is, and, oh-oh ! M
had only always been good to him," she moaned.

In vain Herbert soothed and reassured her ;
told her Ray had opened his eyes, spoken, that
Dr Ford said he would live. Apparently con-
vinced one moment, she broke into wails the
next, and at last he took her to Ray's own
room and asked the doctor to tell her himself

that her brother would live.

.< Yes ■ bless God. little Olive. I trust the
boy is out of danger now," said the physician
cheerfully. "Now. lady-bird, you get mto
your nest, or I shall give you one of these
terrible powders."

Then he kissed the little girl's cheek, and
papa carried her away in his strong arms and

-jS^-

■..,-•< •^'i4„.\;.'"i.

VST.

nto the hall again
(l the stairs.
Herbert said, put-
Too late! She
t deathly face, and
I terror,
i, and, oh-oh ! if I
him," she moaned,
and reassured her ;
s eyts, spoken, that
c. Apparently con-
roke into wails the
her to Ray's own
■ to tell her himself

; Olive, I trust the
," said the physician
-bird, you get into
c you one of these

tie girl's cheek, and
his strong arms and

THE DANGER I'AST.

203

put her to bed himself, and sat beside her until
she had fallen into a sound sleep.

Herbert and his mother were alone when he
returned to Ray's chamber. There was no need
to keep the household up, Mrs. Gardenell said,
so she had dismissed them all but this one ; he
insisted on remaining until sure Olive slept.

Mr. Gardenell stooped above his eldest-born
and folded him in his arms. " Kiss your mother,"
he said, holding the dear face for the caress.
.. Now I will sec you in bed. I want to feel
sure of my treasures to-night."

.< You will go to bed and get a little rest your-
self, Herbert," Mrs. Gardenell said to her hus-
band as he returned again to her side.

.' Rest ! " he smiled. " Shall I ever need rest
again > I feel as fresh as a skylark, and as ready
to soar. 'They that wait on the Lord shall
renew their .strength.' Literally has the prom-
ise been fulfilled in me to-night "

"And yet Herbert has told me how you
labored. You will feel it to-morrow. Do go to

":"4^*ftfn

<nt

204

THE DANGER PAST.

bed. I covet the first conscious gbncc of my

boy."

-Thou Shalt not covet.'" fondly. "Did
Herbert tell you, also, that the first, the only
words the boy spoke were, ' Little mother-

woman r
"No."

"Ah! but they were." But Mr. Gardenell
did not tell her that these words seemed the
sweetest music his cars had ever heard, and
that, as they reached him. he caught his eldest
son to his bosom, crying like a babe, while
every one present wept in sympathy.

So it happened when Ray opened his great
black eyes some time after, and repeated his
first words, " Little mother." she was there to
respond. " Yes. my darling."

He put up hi£ mouth childishly for a kiss,
sighed, and fell off to sleep again ; but not for
long. Before morning he woke again with the
same words on his lips, and more: "Will you
forgive me, little mother .>"

'k.

THE DANGER I'AST.

205

AST.

ious glance of my

"• fondly. "Did
the first, the only
c, ' Little mother-

But Mr. GardencU

words seemed the
id ever heard, and
le caught his eldest

like a babe, while

sympathy.

ay opened his great
;r, and repeated his
T," she was there to

childishly for a kiss,
p again ; but not for
woke again with the
,nd more: "Will you

'• I have, my son."

" Pray."

That was all. Only as she knelt and held his
hands, praying, she saw two bright tears course
down his checks. He was very weak. She did
not talk to him. It ws bc'tcr for the dear
Holy Spirit to talk, she thought. That would
not weary her boy.

There was great joy and thanksgiving in the
hearts of each member of the family next
morning, as they assembled at breakfast, and
knelt in prayer. How praise abounds after
sorrow averted ! Strange we do not offer it
oftencr before it comes — when it has not even
threatened. Queer mortals we are. Ray was
missed ; the vacant chair was there, but oh !
" not forever," thought father and mother, and
though tearful eyes met, there were smiling

lips.

Ray was very weak ; would be a prisoner for
some days, and all vied in their attentions to
him. His parents noticed, in the days that

?»*■-

i*?

THE DANGER PAST.

followed, how often his eyes filled at some fresh
proof of their devotion.

" I don't deserve it," he said to mamma, as
his father laid the new book he had been
desiring, on his pillow.

" Love is Gou-like," she made answer. " ' Not
by works oi' -i^hteousness which we have done,
but according to his mercy. He saved us.' "

Ray was thinking. Might not this dark road
lead to the King's highway ? They hoped so.

PAST.

. filled at some fresh

said to mamma, as
book he had been

nade answer. " ' Not
which we have done,

He saved us.' "
ht not this dark road

? They hoped so.

CHAPTER XVI.

BETTER AND WORSE.

The darkest day
Live till to-morrow, will have passed away

COWPER.

AS Ray got better, he acted very much like
his olden self, much to the disgust of
Olive and the sorrow of Herbert, who had one
long solemn talk with him.

" If you had died then, Ray, where would you
be now .' " he asked, shuddering, and with such
pain in his voice that his brother was moved.

'< Dear old Herv," he said, laying a caressing
hand on his brother's, "you care altogether too
much for this boy; he's not worth it. Don't
waste your time ; let me take my own way. I'm
not just ready yet. If you'd spent all this time
on your Horace it would have paid better," lifting
and passing him the book he had dropped.

207

I: 1

208

BETTER AND WORSE.

" Ray, Ray ! "

"Herbert. Herbert!" mockingly. "Honor
bright, you'll never find me in such a scrape
aga'in. I shall not blame you if you don't take
nly word ; I've forfeited your respect, but I do
intend to keep straight henceforward. Farther
than that, I'm not ready to go. There's too
much to give up. There's lots ahead I want to
do, and religion -your kind and father's -
would be in my way. H I could take it as
some do -the pliable sort that stretches -I
might try it ; but that wouldn't suit you any
better than my present position, and I hate
shams myself. Now, let me alone awhile.
When I'm ready I'll let you know, and you can
pitch in. It's kind of taking advantage of a
fellow to press him when he is down, and hates

to deny you.

"Everybody thinks I ought to turn pious
now because I've been into this scrape, and
everybody thinks it their business to throw in a
dose of advice with every flower and bit of fruit

,.'

gly. " Honor
such a scrape
you don't take
spcct, but I do
ward. Farther
). There's too
ihcad I want to
and father's —
ould take it as
it stretches — I
;t suit you any
ion, and I hate
e alone awhile.
,ow, and you can
J advantage of a
down, and hates

ht to turn pious

this scrape, and

acss to throw in a

/er and bit of fruit

BETTER AND WORSE.

209

they send me. I'm sick of it. I told mamma
I would not see another person. I guess papa is
parson enough to attend to all my needs in this
direction, and if he is not he has a very able
assistant at hand. I say no man has a right to
attack another just because he don't agree with

his beliefs."

" Has a United States officer a right to arrest
a criminal without his permission ?" asked Her-
bert quietly.

" Of course he has. He isn't a faithful offi-
cer unless he does. That's his business."

'< Ju,st so ; and it's my business and papa's
and every other Christian's to arrest every sin-
ner in the name of Jesus Christ, and bring him
to unconditional surrender. You are a rebel
against Heaven, Ray Gardenell."

" And you are a born parson as well as a first-
class lawyer," laughed Ray uneasily. " But I
tell you, Herv, your special police had best
settle it that half of your work is but lost
time."

2IO

BETTER ANU WORSE.

•• None of my business or a government offi-
cer's, either. Our time is not our own ; it has
been bought up. Mine was given me to lose or
spend as God wills for his own glory. Hence-
forth by his grace He shall have his way in

one boy."

<'You don't mean," said Ray, eying his
brother keenly, " you can't mean — Herv, old
fellow, what's the matter with you, anyway?
You don't appear natural. Did I give you such
a scare that you lost yourself altogether .? "
<• Do you miss me, Ray .' "
" Miss is no word for it. You always were
good, but not gooder. There," answering a
wistful look in his brother's eyes, " don't preach.
I am what I am, and you what you are. I'm
really half afraid to be left alone with you lest
I have to turn parson to please you."

Herbert smiled sadly. " H you will only turn
Christian we will wait for the parson a few

years

.. As if I ever could be parson. You were

WORSE.

5r a government offi-
not our own ; it has

s given me to lose or
own glory. Hence-

lall have his way in

said Ray, eying his
I't mean — Herv, old
r with you, anyway .'
Did I give you such
self altogether ? "

it. You always were

There," answering a
"s eyes, " don't preach.
HI what you are. I'm
eft alone with you lest
please you."
" If you will only turn

for the parson a few

be parson. You were

BETTER AND WORSE.

211

cut.

„ea„t for .ha. yourself, Ilcrv; got *e exact

!;', believe youre right. an<l I've decked

'°'.'.a Herv! you Oon't mean... What a
.l,a™:i a .oywith such talents. Why uO«e

Wilde expects you in his office some day , h=
.old papa it was hest for a boy to follow h,s hen.

and I heard the old professor tell father yon we^
by far his brightest scholar, with ev,dent talents
for the bar. A ■ natural pleader,' those were h:s

exact words." „

.. Let me plead the cause of my King, then,

said Herbert softly : —

...Lord, I am Thine, entirely Thine,
. Purchased and saved by grace d.vme,
With fuU consent Thine 1 won db.^^^
And own Thy sovereign right .n me.

Ray's face sobered. .- It's a sudden change."
he said. ..I know fathernever persuaded you.
that isn't his way -.and that very afternoon be-
fore -before I got drowned." half-laughmg.

212

BETTER AND WORSE.

" you were telling me of dropping into Judge
Wilde's office and how pleased he was to find
you had been digging into his old tomes."

" Yes, I know," replied his brother; " I think
unconsciously I was trying to have my own way.
I was not fully sure the dear Lord wanted me
to follow papa, and I did not care to find out. I
was uneasy at times, but — O, Ray ! I can never
be the same after that fearful night," falling be-
side his brother's couch and hiding his face in
his hands.

"Brother, dear brother, when I saw your
deathly face, feared you might be even then
standing before the bar of God, unforgiven, un-
prepared — my own brother, my loved brother
condemned, lost forever, my soul well-nigh died,
too. Oh ! it was fearful, fearful. I never shall
forget the look on father's face ; and as I crept to
the other side of the shanty I got on my knees
and gave myself to God and souls as never be-
fore. I realized the worth of a soul, the awful
interests at stake in life, and it seemed the only

WORSE.

dropping into Judge
;ased he was to find
lis old tomes."
is brother ; " I think
to have my own way.
;ar Lord wanted me
t care to find out. I
O, Ray ! I can never
ful night," falling he-
ld hiding his face in

, when I saw your
might be even then
God, unforgiven, un-
er, my loved brother
y soul well-nigh died,
earful. I never shall
:ace ; and as I crept to
ty I got on my knees
nd souls as never be-
ll of a soul, the awful
nd it seemed the only

BETTER AND WORSE.

213

thing worth living for to snatch men from the
power of sin, to work, pray, preach day and
night if only some were saved. How little other
ambitions looked beside such work done for
Christ, in Christ ; what value had any success
that did not succeed in saving men ? Just to
follow Jesus, just to live and die as He did for
others, just to lose myself and interests and be
swallowed up forever in his will, his service. I
can't tell you, Ray, I can't tell any one what
that night was to me. If only God would spare
your life I vowed to be his slave, and yet it
seemed such great honor then, that had you
died I should still have craved it at his hands. I
never again could be content to do anything else.
My ambition died that night ; it almost seems
as if I died, too," said the boy solemnly. " I
haven't been the same since. God, Eternity,
Heaven — everything seems so real. I feel every
moment as if I stood in the very presence of

the King."

Ray's face was hidden in his hands when

214

BETTER AND WORSE.

Herbert lifted his radiant yet wet with holy
tears. No such sermon had ever been preached
to Raymond Gardenell before ; his form shook,
and tears oozed through his fingers.

" You have given your life for mine, your pro.s-
pccts for my soul," he said huskily. " It is too
costly a sacrifice ; my miserable, selfish life was
not worth the strength and purpose of yours.
O, Ilerv ! I wish you'd take it all back, but I
know you won't. You are like some old rapt
saint ; your very face shines as 'loses' did of old.
You'll go on and on, like father, denying your-
self, and never counting anything too hard to do
for the meanest scamp that lives. I expected
to be proud of you, Herv — I am, too. You've
got the real kind of religion, the only kind I ever
want. But I can't get it ; the price is too high ;
I could never yield my whole life as you do, don't
ask me, for I feel it's too mean to say No to you,
but I never could, dear old Hervie ; it isn't pos-
sible, it really isn't possible."

And that was the best that Ray would say.

BETTER AND WORSE.

215

RSE.

ct wet with holy
ver been preached
; his form shook,
fingers.

3r mine, your pros-

skily. " It is too

)le, selfish life was

purpose of yours.

it all back, but I

ike some old rapt

s '-loses' did of old.

her, denying your-

liing too hard to do

lives. I expected

am, too. You've

the only kind I ever

e price is too high ;

life as you do, don't

m to say No to you,

[^ervie ; it isn't pos-

t Ray would say.

.. rd like to, 1 wouU inJeed, but it isn't pos-
""I'tpossibier Herbert Idt his brother's

room, a smile wreathing his iips as he repeated,
:,Wi„ God aiUirings are possible r"A.ith..,B

..possible to him that believeth." He seemed
„hmself.o have reaehed the plaee where „o.h

; eould be denied him. " '" <»-=7 "'^^
JceoMheKing,"hehadsaidindeser,b,„g

e,perienee to his brother. Yes ; baskmg m the
:UKtoM,issm,le, looking into h>s.ov,n

e,es, bearing the mosieo.-^ 21:
as he was he had learned the seeret
surrender; other words tor absolute peaee and

i„y He had "reached the land of cor,, and
J„e " -"The lite hid with Clrrist in God.
pather and mother bad both noticed a sobtle

change in their first-born. Always tender,
Lhttul, obedient, Christian, an ad, «

thin, thrilled their hearts with ,oy, and the hope

hrt°.his dear one bad indeed reached the

let place ot the Most High." That the

2l6

BETTER AND WORSE,

night of their terrible testing was at the bottom
of this Mr. Gardenell never questioned ; that the
cherished hope of his heart would be yet ful-
filled in Herbert he never doubted; that it was
near, he dared to believe. lie had not uttered
a word, but a hand-clasp as they passed each
other, a flash of eyes and lips had revealed much,
and he was quite prepared for the conversation
that took place in his study that night after the
talk with Ray.

It was so sweet to know, to have assurance
more assured, to look into the clear eyes of his
darling boy, and listen to the earnest tones of
his rich voice, broken occasionally as they wept
together. It is blessed to be understood. Such
sons have not always such fathers ; mutual
understanding, the flash of thought to thought,
spirit to spirit ere words could be their inter-
preter, prayer, thanksgiving, praise, joy beyond
expression, as soul melted to soul, and both
were one in God.

This boy, always so precious, what did he

tSE.

ia.s at the bottom
stioncd ; that the
'ould be yet ful-
bted ; that it was
had not uttered
hey passed each
d revealed much,
the conversation
t night after the

have assurance
lear eyes of his
earnest tones of
lly as they wepc
dcrstood. Such
fathers ; mutual
ight to thought,
I be their inter-
lisc, joy beyond

soul, and both

IS, what did he

BETTER AND WORSE.

217

become to his father that night? Long after
he had left him, Mr. Gardenell paced his study
in a tumultuous rapture under which his human
heart almost gave way. Saved to the uttermost !
Not only heir to, but in the kingdom, partaking
even now of the supper of the Lamb. Wave
after wave of glory passed over the father's
soul, and weak from excess of joy, his wife
found him presently.

"My darling," he said, drawing her to his
arms, " our tree of sorrow has blossomed, and
the young fruit hangs heavy. My soul is over-
whelmed."

Then she sat down beside him, and told how
she had si'rmised all.

" I knew from his face some heavenly cloud
had burst in blessing," she said ; "and I knew
at the bottom must lay a surrendered will. I
went into his room this morning and found him
with such a face pressed against his window,
eyes, attitude, everything betokening rapture
unspeakable. I threw my arms about bim, and

2l8

DKTTER AND WORSE.

just knelt down and praised God that my boy
was wholly his.

"'You prayed out of my heart, mamma.
How did you know I had yielded .>' he asked.
•< I low do we know the clouds arc dissipated ? "
I counter-questioned.

" • Because the sun is out,' he laughed. Then
wc hugged each other and sung, and I think he
foigot to tell me his story because I seemed
to know, and I forgot to question him, I was so
satisfied."

SE.

,ocl that my boy

heart, mamma.
Idcil?' he asked,
i arc dissipated ? "

2 lauphcd. Then
;, and I think he
ccausc I seemed
ion him, I was so

'VI

hi;i(

CIIArXER XVII.

AN URGENT APPEAL.

Tiii Heaven alone that is given away,
Tis only Cod may be h.icl for the .isking.

JAMKS RUbSKLL LoWr.LU

I SAY, Ray Gardenell, why aren't you a
Christian ? "
Ray stopped abruptly. Such a question from
such a source was like thunder out of a clear

sky.

.' How long since you became interested in

such matters, Ben?" he asked, in what was

intended to be a very unconcerned voice.

" Oh ! well, I don't know," taking Ray's arm

as they strolled along. " Fact is, Gardenell, I

never had any bringing up in that direction.

But I've always sort of hankered after it, as the

little chaps say. My father's an infidel, you

know, and don't allow anything religious around.

219

220

AN URGENT APPEAL.

but I've wondered how you, with your teaching
and such a father and motlier, can be — be " —

" Well, out with it. Can be such a rascal, I
suppose you would say."

"You know I wouldn't s.iy any such thing,"
responded his friend warmly. " There isn't a
mean or rascally thing about you ; you're a
prime fellow, and no mistake, but — but" —

"I'm not like my brother, for instance. I
guess you've hit a problem, Ben, and there is
no answer but the undcmonstrable facts. I im
the one goat in the flock ; the scapegoat, we
will say, for elucidation, and all the Adamic
inherited depravity which should be shared
equally bv the members of the family, has
fallen to me, Ben, what's up.^ You look as
grave as a monument."

" I'm in earnest, Ray."

In earnest Ray might well belitve. When
before had he ever heard Ben Gordon speak in
that tone .' He grew silent himself.

" It seems as if there ought to be something

I ,

.^^^mm-mmmm

AN URGENT APPEAL.

221

1 your teaching
.n be — be " —
such a rascal, I

ny such thing,"
" There isn't a
you ; you're a
It— but" —
For instance. I
;n, and there is
jle facts. I im
; scapegoat, we
all the Adamic
)uld be shared
;he family, has
? You look as

believe. When

jordon speak in

self.

;o be something

h 'lI»

better for me," continued Ben. " I'd like to be
different. Perhaps you can help me, Ray. I've
hoped you might. You've been taught religion
all your life. I never envied any one as I did
you that morning I called at your house so early
and was present at family prayers. Your father
prayed for me, you remember," his voice choking
a little. "I never heard myself prayed for

before."

Ray was much moved. " Poor old fellow !
I've had it all the days of my life, and never
valued it much. You : ight come in every
morning. We'd all like w have you."

"Father stopped that," answered the boy.
shortly. Then looking at his friend wistfully :
.. S'.ppose you and I turn over a new leaf, Gar-
denell ? Suppose we try to be what we ought
to be," slowly, "what your father would like
you to be. I'd be green, but I'm in earnest -
and you could tell me what to do."

Ray tried to laugh, but it was a failure. It
struck him dimly that his friend was laboring

iy»fr„n^J^Tff^*-iA»l^rfXt4!f<^-"-'t^"

•rir^"' ■

222

AN URGENT APPEAL.

under what his father would call " conviction,"
also that this was a fresh call to himself, that
God was multiplying agencies to draw him
heavenward. He wished with all his heart that
Herbert was in his place, but he wasn't. It was
his opportunity, and he lost it.

" You don't, can't really mean that you want
to be an out-and-out Christian }" he said, rally-
ing. " It's the proper thing, and I don't want
to discourage you, but there's lots of time for
that, and I want a good taste of other things

first."

" What things > "

"Oh! they're numerous; too much so to
mention. The world is full of everything, and
I haven't begun to find it out. Religion is
good ; I mean to have it myself some day, but

not yet."

They walked along silently for a spell, then
Gordon asked abruptly, "What would have
become of you if you had been drowned that
night.?"

,<!l

sM^^iJB^^^is^m^m^^simi^^^^^S&^ii^^^^^^s^

" conviction,

) himself, that

to draw him

his heart that

vasn't. It was

that you want
' he said, rally-
i I don't want
ots of time for
)f other things

3 much so to
everything, and
t. ReUgion is
[ some day, but

or a spell, then
at would have
n drowned that

AN URGENT APPEAL.

223

Ray started. " I'd have been lost, sure ; but
you see I wasn't. Ben. what a streak of the
blues you have ; you're gloomy, old buy. If you
go to getting good, you'll die young. I never
told you that joke, did I ? " And then Ray
struck into the story of Olive's manoeuvre to
save Herbert from an early death, and from that
ran on to another light story and another.

Ben did not renew the conversation ; he feared
to He was not acquainted with any Christian
person to whom he could talk freely, so he had
thought Ray Gardenell the next best thing.
But now he reasoned if his friend could afford
to put off salvation, why not he also ? He stifled
his uneasiness. Perhaps, after all, his father
was right when he called religion a sham, and
referred to the children of Christians to prove
how unprolific it was where best known. But.
no ; Ben could never quite forget Mr. Gar-lenell's
facl that night he prayed above his son's uncon-
scious form. The faith so simply grand, and m
its very submissiveness so sure of victory, the

.jl:^

AN URGENT APPEAL.
224

^n cried, " H"l«:"' '"'> ''°"'

'''='°^" j; :arneaa,g..,ne,,tsanaao■
corncr, as all tbc ^^^_ ^_^^| ^„
<,„cnce of Ws lathers mfide

i.nfl never done. i^^"»
'l'* '■'='^'""'"" was .h= conviction under
reality, and I want .t, was W

„.ic,,hes,a.,ered,,or.e*a.».J^^^^^

«^"\nT«.-y-ed towards
Gardcnell h.mself, for h^ ' ^^^^

rort.::;— --•^"'"•^"^

in such an hour. , i^ft alone with

Raywasalmostarardtobej ^^^^^^^^^^

Benforthenex. few days fter^^ _^_,

ai school; another and another day P

'mS'iMMM

,ert, my son,
, bad thrilled
Dbserved in a
;nts and elo-
cnds, and all
' Religion is a
nviction under

,ht.

applied to Mr.
earned towards
,ddcn him that
So he turned to
Gardenell's son
his father's God

e left alone with
this conversation,
.inter passed and
ad quite forgotten

om his usual place
er day passed, then

AN URGENT APPEAL.

225

it was whispered round that Gordon was very
sick ; the doctor feared he would not live. Ray
was much shocked, and called at his chum's
house on h's way home. The lady who answered
the bell said no visitors were allowed, and he
had to be content in sending up his love and a
little bouquet.

After that never a day passed that a nosegay
did not find its way to Ben's bedside with a mes-
sage from his friend, and at last one morning he
was told that Ben had begged so hard to see
him the doctor had given his consent provided
all exciting topics were avoided. So Ray was
to call in the early afternoon.

He was there promptly at the appointed time.
The nurse warned him of the change in his
friend's appearance, and told him that Bennie
was very near his end, and he must show no
surprise however badly he looked, for his father
had forbidden any one speaking to him of death.

" Realiy it seems as if the poor Colonel thinks
he can ward off death by ignoring the truth,"

tl'l

•226

AN URGENT APPEAL.

sighed the woman, " and there's not a soul of us

dares disobey him."

Indeed Ray was shocked at the change in his

friend. This poor, thin, exhausted boy, with

unearthly eyes and parched lips, was so unlike
the rugged, fun-loving friend of school-days.
Yes, he was dying, Ray could see that, and at
first could do nothing but hold the weak little
hand in his own and swallow hard to keep back

the tears.

But Ben was overjoyed to see him.
" You look so good, Ray. I haven't seen a boy
in such a long time. You mustn't feel bad over
me, old fellow. 1 want you to be your best self
for awhile until I get a first-class feed of you.
I've wanted you all this time, and the flowers did
me no end of good ; they always seemed to say
' Good-morning, Ben,' as you used to, in a kind
of a fresh and wholesome way.

"You're a lucky fellow, Ray. You've got
everything. I never knew how much I liked
you till I got keeled up here. Then it seemed

r'tt'^ ^1>~»K^>,-

■■ < >=1»*V«wt*l«l!»«^«''ij

PPEAL.

:re's not a soul of us

at the change in his
exhausted boy, with
I lips, was so unlike
end of school-days.
)uld see that, and at
hold the weak little
)W hard to keep back

see him.

I haven't seen a boy
mustn't feel bad over
u to be your best self
Tst-class feed of you.
ne, and the flowers did
always seemed to say
you used to, in a kind
way.

w, Ray. You've got
;w how much I liked
lere. Then it seemed

AT URGENT APPEAL.

227

as if I'd give all I ever owned just to hear
you laugh or tell one of your funny yarns. But
father wouldn't yield till the last minute ; but
I've gol you now and you must stay as long as
you can, and I want to hear all about the

fellows."

It took Ben a good while to say all this, and
he was terribly exhausted and coughed much
when it was said, until the nurse came in from
another room and gave him a drink. She went
right out again. Evidently the boy had planned
to have his friend to himself, and Ray stifled
back his feelings and told him all he thought
would interest him.

" I'm afraid you're getting tired," Nurse said
at length, coming in to administer his medicine.
" Just a few minutes more, good Mrs. Wheel-
ock," said the invalid feebly, and she disappeared
with a shake of her head and a muttered some-
thing about the colonel.

"Now, Ray, just a minute. Oh ! I must say
this. Ray, I'm going to die young, and I'm not

tk::

itmMmmm.

228

AN URGENT APPEAL.

good," said the poor boy, stretching out a hand
to his friend.

"Don't say so, Ben, Perhaps you will get
better, after all;" but something within Ray
contradicted his words.

" No, I won't. I never can, and — Ray — it's
about over ; I'm most gone, and I'm not ready,
You won't mind if I talk about such things now,
will you, old fellow .' "

Ray covered his face with his hands to hide
his tears.

" Don't cry, Ray, don't. I want you to pray.
I want you to teach me how to die. You're the
only one I ever had who knew anything about
it. Father is good, and he loves me, but he
wouldn't have me taught anything religious,
not even how to pray. It might have been
different if mother had lived. Somehow I've
missed so many things ; but I've wanted mother

most."

Here the sick boy stopped to gather breath,
and Ray gave a little sob.

- .. .aaiiiiiiiiiwMiili

lAL.

tching out a hand

laps you will get
;hing within Ray

and — Ray — it's
nd I'm not ready,
t such things now,

his hands to hide

want you to pray.

die. You're the
;w anything about

loves me, but he
ny thing religious,

might have been
d. Somehow I've
I've wanted mother

1 to gather breath,

AN URGENT APPEAL.

229

" Ray, I know it's real — religion, I mean. I
never could doubt it after that night you came
so near drowning. Your father prayed that
night. O, Ray I I never heard anything like it.
I knew if there was a great, almighty God you
would live, and you did, and — and I never could
ask you to join in a scrape after that. I always
thought of your father, and I knew if he'd been
mine, I — couldn't have — have grieved him.
O, Ray! I almost prayed myself that night,
my heart was so hungry for the great God ; I
wanted to have him care for me. You know all
about the Bible and being saved — tell me how."

Never was such a boy in such a situation as
this. What could he do ?

"I can't help you, Ben," he said brokenly,
"let me go for father."

"My father would not allow him in his house."

" Herbert, then ? "

" I might die while you were gone," solemnly.
"You don't realize how near I am to death.
Then, too, I am tired ; they would not let any

23°

AN 'JRGENT APPEAL.

one else in. You are here, you must tell me all

you know."

.. I don't know anything." Oh ! what an ad-
mission for the son of Christian parents.

"You must, you must know something, Ray.
What is that Bible verse about God so loving >"
Ray repeated reverently. " God so loved the
world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever bclicveth in him should not perish,
but have c crlasting life."

.'That's it," said the boy with satisfaction.
.' I heard your father preach from that once. It
was just after that call at your house at prayer
time. I wanted to hear him again - you know
he prayed for me. It was in the summer, and
you were at Bloomingle ; father was off that
Sunday with a party of friends -he didn't
often leave me alone -and when he found out
where 1 had been he was very angry. Poor
father, he meant it for my best good. Ray. I
must be saved through Jesus somehow ? "
" Yes," again reverently.

EAL.

AN URGENT APPEAL.

231

must tell me all

Oh! what an ad-
ian parents.
3W something, Ray.
ut God so loving?"
"God so loved the
r begotten Son, that

should not perish,

»y with satisfaction.
I from that once. It
your house at prayer
n again — you know
in the summer, and
father was off that
friends — he didn't
id when he found out
is very angry. Poor
y best good. Ray, I
ius somehow ? '*

"And your father said any one might come

to Him."

" Yes, any one, no matter how bad ; and every
one, however good, must come through Jesus to
be accepted. That's the only way."

" How can I come, Ray ? "

Ray was silent. If ever he prayed in his life
it was then ; he needed help.

" Have you a Bible anywhere, Ben .' "

"There's one in papa's study, but he never
allowed me to read it. You see I'm nothing
better than a heathen," with a sad smile.

"And I'm another," said Ray remorsefully.
" Here's one verse, Ben : ' If we confess our sins
He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.' "

" I am a sinner, I do confess," said Ben.

" He that cometh unto me I will in no wise

cast out."

"I want to come — I don't know how," said

the sick boy feebly.

" Listen, Ben ; here's a verse mamma said to
a poor sick man, and it brought him to Jesus :

\ I

232

AN URGENT APPEAL.

' Believe on the Lonl Jesus Christ and thou
shalt oe saved.' "

" How can I believe?"

" Oh ! you know ; just as you would believe
me, I suppose. I am your friend and I would
save you if I could, but I can't. He is your
friend an'l died to save you, and can do it. Be-
lieve it." Surely God was helping.

" I do believe," said Ben solemnly. " Ray,
am I saved > "

" You must be. God says if you believe you
shall be saved, and he always says the truth." "

"Pi ay forme, Ray."

How near he came to saying " I can't." But
the look on that poor eager, dying face restrained
him. He knelt down humbly and sobbed, as
Ben slipped a thin hand into his, —

"O, Lord ! I'm a dreadful sinner, won e than
Ben, but I don't want anything for myself. Oh!
if you'll only save Ben because — because it was
my fault he didn't come long ago. I'm to
blame" — "No, you ain't," interjected Ben —

-iutWIiiiiraSaWM*'

ri'EAL.

IS Christ and thou

5 you would believe
friend and I would
can't. He is your

, and can do it. Be-

belping.

n solemnly. " Ray,

s if you believe you
's says the truth," "

■ing " I can't." But
[lying face restrained
iibly and sobbed, as
3 his, —

il sinner, won e than
ling for myself. Oh !
use — because it was
long ago. I'm to
" interjected Ben —

AN URGENT APPEAL.

" forgive him, please. He has confessed and he
does believe, and you? words arc true; and please
let him know they are, and that he is all light,
for Jesus' sake. Amen."

" Amen," echoed the dying boy. " Ray, it's
all right ; I most know it is."

Ray looked troubled. " He ought to know
sure," he though ; "papa and mamma did, and
so did Hervic when he was converted." Mrs.
Wheelock came into the room just then to say
he must certainly go, for the colonel had come
and would be angry if he found Ben tired out.

Tired out ! He'd soon be whcie people never
tired, Ray felt, and if only he was sure he was
saved. A terrible conviction of his own sin in
laughing away his friend's concern months ago
had seized him ; he would never take another
moment's comfort in life unless he knew Ben
was saved. He held his hand tightly, even
kissed his cheek and stooping, whispered, "Hold
on to Jesus, he will carry you through," then he
darted from the room.

Ivv

CHAPTER XVIII.

AN INSTRUMENT FOR GOOD.

The best of what we do and are
Just God forgive.

Wordsworth.

"\ 11 /"HEN Ray left his friend's presence so

V V suddenly it was to repair to the colo-
nel's study. He knocked. What a stern face
met his.

" Do you wish to see me ? "

"Yes, sir. I've been to Bennie and he's
dying, sir, and he wants to be saved."

" Are you saved } " sharply.

"No, sir," with mounting color and downcast
eyes.

" I thought not from your past record. I
think Ben can take his chances with you, if you
are a parson's son." '

" O, sir ! please, sir," cried Ray, forgetting to
234

y-.Tif-> ■T';.-i\"-.*-^v-t-^^" raieMCKSR^-.'.

' =j---'1i. i-x^ht H rsaf'.'ci.''^ jfr-i-y»^ff-'

:viii.

OR GOOD.

lo and are

Wordsworth.

riend's presence so
repair to the colo-
What a stern face

) Bennie and he's
e saved."

color and downcast

•ur past record. I
:es with you, if you

Ray, forgetting to

ssssmmk

AN INSTRUMENT FOR GOOD.

235

be indignant, "don't blame religion or father for
my sins. Ben is better than I am — lots better,
sir; but our own goodness cannot take us to
Heaven ; we haven't enough of it."

"Ah ! needs to be patched out. If you have
had your say I will excuse you now," turning as

if to go.

Ray clutched him with both hands.
" You couldn't refuse him — you wouldn't re-
fuse him, and he dying, sir ! "

" Who says he's dying ? " fiercely.
" I do, sir ; and he says so himself, and he
wants help, and oh ! " tears starting to his
eyes, "it's my fault if he's lost, for I knew the
right and might have helped him. If you'd
only let father come and see him, sir, it would
lift a load from my heart."

' I want neither you nor your father, nor any

other canting, ranting religionist under my roof."

Then Ray ran off quickly, sure he would be

ungentlemanly if he heard another such epithet

applied to his father.

236

AN INSTRUMENT FOR GOOD.

What could he do ? The weight of that soul
was on him. Papa couldn't go, but, happy
thought! there was mamma. The colonel had
not really forbidden her, though the spirit of
his command included them all. "Mamma is
neither canting nor ranting," he muttered.

A very short time after mother and son stood
before Colonel Gordon's mansion. Ray had
told his mother little ; nothing must interfere
with bis plan. He had no need to fear, however;
Yensic Gardenell would have faced the legions
of darkness to rescue a soul.

Ray had left the front door ajar. It was so
still ; no one had passed in or out. They
mounted the stairs softly and he halted a mo-
ment before his friend's chamber to listen.
Not a sound from within. Colonel Gordon had
taken one hasty glance at the white face on the
pillow and retreated to his study where he was
now walking rapidly up and down. His son
die > Never, never ! His only son ! He could
not, would not give him up.

■ -.*«^i*a3«««w*^**f§wfe«vf ^

it-fts'3^!W«tw^aw*".-i^

JiS£a2j2a.jusiSL:_

OR GOOD.

weight of that soul

I't go, but, happy

The colonel had

Jugh the spirit of

all. "Mamma is

he muttered.
)ther and son stood
ansion. Ray had
ing must interfere
:d to fear, however;
! faced the legions

or ajar. It was so
in or out. They
d he halted a mo-
hambcr to listen,
oionel Gordon had
white face on the
tudy where he was
1 down. His son
ly son ! He could

AN INSTRUMENT FOR GOOD.

237

Quietly Ray opened the chamber door, bec>.-
oned the nurse to come out, then slipped his
mother in and felt satisfied.

" My mother knows everything and has been
with the sick and dying ; she will help, not
hurt him," he said. And Nurse, whose eyes
were red with tears and whose conscience smote
her over this boy drifting into eternity unpre-
pared, soothed herself by saying it was too late
to prevent anything now, even if the colonel
had just issued orders forbidding any one out-
side of the household excepting the doctor, see-
ing the boy.

Ray stood guard at the door. He should like
to hear Colonel Gordon or any one else call his
mother a "canting, ranting religionist." He
could discover the voice of prayer, then the
sweetest and lowest of tender hymns, and she
was beside him. It took mother so short a time
to do things.

No need to ask her if Ben was really saved.
Her shining face satisfied his heart. It felt so

. ' --- ■■:;'.' :_'i^.- ^a?,.'.

238

AN INSTRUMENT FOR GOOD.

! 1

I li

light to what it did an hour ago. Then it was
sweet, on reaching home, to have her kiss him,
and looking in his eyes say, as only she knew how
to say, •' My boy has been honored. Erelong
Heaven will have another saint, and through his
ministry."

"O, mother! I don't deserve it," he said,
bursting into tears and confessing all. "He
might have been saved long ago but for me.
God is good, mamma. I never could have borne
it had he been lost through me."

How Yensie prayed; bow she hoped this
might be the turning-point in this young life, as
she solemnly, yet tenderly, laid before him the
magnitude of the sorrow which he had been
spared.

A day or two after young Gordon died. Ray
took the flowers his mother cut for him, and
went to take his last look at the dead face. He
met the colonel in the hall. " What, sir ! you
are here again," said the gentleman sharply.
" I thought I forbade you entering this house."

. ■utmii'^umtimi^Kiimi is x s sxsssim

^a^jii-,:!^^.-

?"0R GOOD.

ago. Then it was
have her kiss him,

s only she knew how
honored. Erelong

int, and through his

serve it," he said,
tifessing all. "He
ff ago but for me.
ler could have borne
le."

w she hoped this
this young life, as
lid before him the
I'ch he had been

fordon died. Ray
cut for him, and
e dead face. He
"What, sir! you
ntleman sharply,
■ring this house."

AN INSTRUMENT FOR GOOD.

239

" I knew you would let me see his face again,"
said Ray gently, reading the sorrow under this
sternness. " These are his favorite flowers ; my
mother sent them ; she always remembers our
likes."

" How did she know he liked them ? "

" Oh ! he happened in to our house one day
when mamma's winoow garden was doing its
best, and these so took his fancy that she
pinned a bunch in his button-hole. After that
she often sent him a little bouquet when they
were in bloom. I thought he'd like them in his
hand now."

The man looked at the boy, a kindlier light
coming into his eyes. His son had loved him.

" So you think Bennie has likes yet } " he
said half-musingly.

" Why, sir, if there is a Bennie, he is our
Bennie with just the likes he always had."

"True — if" —

" And there's no if about it, sir. My mother
talked to him and he was ready, and where he is

PV»

1 1

240

AN INSTRUMENT FOR GOOD.

every like and love is stronger and sweeter;
mamma says so."

The gentleman still looked at him out of half-
dreaming eyes. How his soul had been stirred
since his child died !

" Then he loves you and me better, you think,
and knows we — we miss him to-day," with a
tremor in his voice. " That is a pleasant belief,
at least."

" It was his belief, sir ; and it is the belief of
almost everybody who ever heard of Jesus. My
mother says it is the belief of all the heroes the
world has ever had."

"Your mother." The gentleman almost
smiled. " She is authority, it seems. How did
it happen you brought her here when I forbade
the house to any of your kind .> "

" You did not mention her by name, sir ; and
' canting, ranting,' doesn't describe her. I had
to have some one,, because it was all my fault
Bennie did not seek Jesus long ago."

The gentleman winced, yet he said, " Tell me

..^^(i£:.-fjmmmf::mi&~>

OR GOOD.

AN INSTRUMENT FOR GOOD.

241

mger and sweeter;

d at him out of half-
oul had been stirred

le better, you think,

lim to-day," with a

is a pleasant belief,

d it is the belief of
heard of Jesus. My
of all the heroes the

gentleman almost
it seems. How did
here when I forbade
id ? "

;r by name, sir ; and
describe her. I had

it was all my fault
3ng ago."
et he said, " Tell me

about it." He began to like this frank boy who
had been his son's companion, who knew portions
of 1 ■" life that this father did not — this agonized
father who had watched his one treasure care-
fully night and day only to have it stolen away.

When the story was ended, without a word
the colonel led the way to the drawing-room.
How cold and dreary it looked in all its splendor
beside the cheerful home parlors full of life and
light. And that covered something — how its
presence added to the effect.

Silently the boy stood as the man uncovered
that face and let his tears drop on the soft, fair
hair. Silently the father stood and watched him
as he put the flowers between the stiff fingers,
patting them gently in half-caress and, stooping,
kissed the cold lips.

" It's a dreadful thing to stand betw^een any
one and Jesus," he said simply, lifting his eyes
to the colonel's face. " I'll never do it again."
Then he extended his hand frankly, and as
frankly it was clasped.

I 1

242

AN INSTRUMENT FOR GOOD.

" He would l,ke you here to-morrow." said
the gentleman as he conducted him to the door.

.' ni be here, sir," with the flashing of bright
eyes to the face above.

Ray was invited to the funeral. More than
that, before night fell Col. Gordon called on Mr.

Gardenell.

•< Wifie, I am to conduct the services over
Ray's little friend," said the c'^ergyman later.
And the colonel said to his wondering friends,
.. Ben would desire it if he was consulted. His
preferences shall be respected."

Ray had sown better than he knew. His
words over that dead face were not forgotten by
his listener: "It's a dreadful thing to stand be-
tween any one and Jesus.

Col. Gordon repeated them slowly that night
after f'.e funeral, ctandin before a life-size pict-
ure of his son. and recalling ti.e sneer he had
seen on young lips during the service that day ;
lips he had taught to sneer. If this religion his
wife, his son had believed in, were a reality after ^

-.,®S;ig»a«»>a(i,a*aiitei'4'SKto;,.

FOR GOOD.

ere to-morrow," said
icted him to the door,
the flashing of bright

: funeral. More than
Gordon called on Mr.

jct the services over
1 the clergyman later,
his wondering friends,
le was consulted. His
icted."

than he knew. His
; were not forgotten by
idful thing to stand be-

them slowly that night
before a life-size pict-
dling ti.e sneer he had
ig the service that day ;
2er. If this religion his
;d in, were a reality after

AN INSTRUMENT FOR G001>.

243

all! Had that prayer his dying wife breathed
over her baby's head anything to do with his
end f

"I'll never do it again, Bennic," he said
firmly, repeating intentionally the vow of his
boy's friend.

He did not. He was at Mr. Gardenell's church
the next Sabbath morning. He hired a pew
there ; one so situated that he could watch Ray's
face during the .sei-vice. He took the boy's
hand as he passed out and looked in his eyes
with almost tenderness ; when Ray introduced
him to his mother he touched her hand revcr-
ently> and bowed over it as a courtier might over
a queen's, as the delighted lad informed Olive.

i.^W*i' ti.Vt. :a'/rf^'.»-^

UUm

CHAPTER XIX.

"TIME flies!'

Evil news rides post, while good news bait:.

Milton.

HKRBERT GARDENELL began to be-
lieve the truth of the old adage, "Time
flies ! " as he looked at his children. Olive, who
had stood sti'.l so long, lengthened perceptibly
this last year, Eddie had grown an inch, while
his eldest son was as tall as himself.

Herbert was sevente^i now, and had really
entered college. Mother congratulated him on
his success, and kissed the manly face as she
wondered what they would do without him. As
for Olive, she went about with such a melancholy
countenance, for a week after his departure, that
she won the sympathy of all.

She did not eat ; was not the seat beside hers
vacant .' How could she sing and Hervie's

244

i-1

TIME FLIES!

245

XIX.

lES

e good news bait:..

MlLTOM.

:NELL began to be-
the old adage, " Time
', children. Olive, who
jngthened perceptibly
grown an inch, while
IS himself,
now, and had really
congratulated him on
:he manly face as she
d do without him. As
vith such a melancholy
iter his departure, that
all.

ot the seat beside hers
he sing and Hervie's

^44

tenor missing ' Her lessons never were so hard,
and no one knew how to help her as the brother
gone. How long the days were !

Papa tried in vain to console her. But pres-
ently came such a real, jolly, lovc-fuU letter, as
newsy and delightful almost as a talk with Her-
bert's self, and she felt better. The honor of
receiving a letter addressed to herself, the ex-
citement of answering it, and the acquaintance
she began to feel with her brother's new sur-
roundings and associates quite inspirited her,
and she soon recovered her wonted gayety.

Every week she received a little missive, and
every week returned an answer. Ere long she

felt she quite knew Prof. B and Dr. W ,

and as to Stanton Cartwright, he seemed like an
old friend. Indeed she had met him when a very
small child during their sojourn one year in Ver-
mont, whither the doctor had ordered mamma
for her health. He had dragged her on his sled
quite often, and his mother had been very kind
to her mother while she was so delicate.

'iirfniT'--'""*' ^

I i
I'

1 1 *•

246

"TIME flies! "

Olive renicmbcrcd nothing; of this, but was
very Klad to know it through Herbert, and she
voted her brother's classmate and chum "a very
nice boy." Whether Stanton was flattered or
not by this cognomen, he was certainly much
amused by the little bits of her epistles that
Herbert read to him, and began to share his sis-
ter's letters in return — his precious, only sister
Wingate, or datty, as they called her, the next
in age to himself in the family, and, therefore,
more than a year older than Olive.

Mr. and Mr.s. Gardenrll had pleasant recollec-
tions of the fresh-faced country boy they used
to know, and were glad their son had found so
congenial a friend. Their good opinion of the
young man was heightened when Herbert brought
him hoi e to spend the short Christmas vaca-
tion.

Stanton, like Herbert, hud the ministry in
view, and Mr. Gardcnell felt almost as if an-
other son had been added to him ere the fort-
tii"-ht was o^ 5 n Olive condescended to share

ES!"

ing i)f this, but was
igh Herbert, and she
ite and chum " a very
iton was flattered or
; was certainly much

of her epistles that
)egan to share his sis-
s precious, only sister
y called her, the next
family, and, therefore,
m Olive.

had pleasant recollec-
ountry boy they used
icir son had found so
r good opinion of the

when Herbert brought
short Christmas vaca-

hud the ministry in

felt almost as if an-

d to him ere the fort-

condcsccndcd to share

«' TIME FLIES !

he, caresses with him. though charily. Mrs. Gar-
d.ncll took him into her heart. Ray voted him a
..big thing.- while the little fellows followed
him around as they did their brothers.

To Herbert this new friend w.s flesh of his
flesh They shared the same bed. read the same
books, preferred the same studies, were, in fact,
a "David and Jonathan." as Ray said, adding
pertinently, "but which is which might puzzle

the doctors."

Stanton left Mr. Gardenell's mansion feeling
that his life had taken on "Whole acres." as he

expressed it to Mr. Gardenell when that gentle-
n.an bade him "Good-by land a welcome home

any time, my boy." as the train whistled out of

the depot.

It was duU music after they were gone to
Raymond. '< A fellow might as well cram and
eet ready to follow them as soon as possible,
he said, and consequently went at his books
with a will, much to the satisfaction of his father
and teacher.

243

TIME FLIES !

iff

" A brilliant boy ; needs sticktuitiveness ; he
has the material in him," one of the teachers
had s?.id a few days before to Mr. Gardenell.
" Give him real incentive and he will make his
mark in the world." And his father smiled and
sighed as he prayed, for he believed that the
only incentive sufficient to make any life a suc-
cess must ere long be his son's. Did not his
God answer prayer.'

Herbert shared his next vacation between
Blooir.ingle and his friend's home in Maine,
whither they had moved from Vermont. Ray
went with him, but their stay was short, for
mamma needed her big boy, and her big boy
needed mamma. " Ray and I are going to bring
back Gatty Cartwright with us," wrote Herbert.
" Stan is needed on the farm, but Gatty is not,
and if she is she must be spared, for she is get-
ting thin with overwork, her mother has been
sick so long, and Stan is anxious about her."

So, sure enough, when the boys came they
brought with them a dark-eyed, dark-haired little

E ;

.^^.aw«eM »*«?«!

S"^^^3SKK-BaB!%:««iS«iW«sss>^'*

sticktuitiveness ; he
me of the teachers
; to Mr. Gardenell.
id he will make his
is father smiled and
e believed that the
make any life a suc-
son's. Did not his

t vacation between
t's home in Maine,
rom Vermont. Ray
stay was short, for
y, and her big boy
I are going to bring
us," wrote Herbert,
rm, but Gatty is not,
spared, for she is get-
ler mother has been
xious about her."
the boys came they
yed, dark-haired little

" TIME FLIES !

249

maiden of fourteen, the strangest mixture of
coyness and piquancy imaginable. Always so
sweet, and quiet, and lady-like, that all were
drawn to her instinctively, she was yet so full
of mischief and repartee that even Ray found
his equal, and Papa Gardenell a constant source
of fresh delight. What a month at Bloomingle
would be to one of just Gatty Cartwrighfs tem-
perament only those like her could guess ; and
what her queer questionings, funny speculations
and pertinent comment:; were to the Gardenells,

only they can tell.

"She is uncommon, wifie," said paterfamilias,
" a rare flower. Do you notice how she watches
my experiments and how quaint her suggestions
are, and how her eyes glow over some of our
readings > She is big - fathoms deep ; it would
be beautiful to study her soul fully, to fashion
and develop her nature. Then she is so simply
and truly religious. A safe companion for our
boys and girl. V/ho would guess that only a
year and a half lay between her and Olive ? "

S^fc

-^'

ai«;«JSai4.'i JMsS^:

250

" TIME FLIES ! '

They all missed her when she went. Bloom-
ingle lost its charm. No one minded going
back to the city after that ; they would not ex-
pect to meet her at every turn in that other
home. School was to begin soon. Herbert
must return to college. Suddenly one day his
eye brightened as he caught sight of a dainty
missive waiting by his dinner plate. He put it
in his pocket, blushing fiercely, when he met his
father's eye.

" Private," said Ray slyly.

" Nothing to blush over, my son," said
mamma. " Papa liked such letters once him-
self."

"Only received one in my life, however," com-
mented papa, as if seeking commiseration.

"Why, papa, this is only a friendly letter,"
said Herbert.

"So was mine, my son."

"I'm sure there isn't a line in it I would not
willingly have you read."

"Nor one in mine you might not enjoy.

■ ilW*:»*e*»»»aa«l(m'"

iSa'ia^fei.^ -M

n she went. Bloom-
one minded going
they would not ex-
turn in that other
gin soon. Herbert
uddenly one day his
it sight of a dainty
er plate. He put it
:ly, when he met his

er, my son," said
I letters once him-

life, however," com-
;ommiseration.
f a friendly letter,"

ine in it I would not

might not enjoy.

fc_j.:.iiiits^.l1ffiiiiia2i.->4S5r

"TIME flies!"

251

Co«e up .0 the study after dmncr and le J
*owit.oyou. Oh! man,™ was a funny ht.e
girt in those days, and scarcely older than our

"'Swas tired of study, tired of play, tired of
everything. He was growing, and at that res^
less age so hard to pilot boys over, espe .a 1
,oys of a certain ten-peranrent. Man,n,a called
the -puppy age," and not without reason, for Ray
«ase!l Olive and the little hoys constantly, was

always sitting with runbs extended, to the end.
germent of all who passed hin,, and really acted

somethncs as if he were forgetting the pretty
polite n,anners for which he had been noted
He had been in disgrace at schooltwcethts

.eeU, once with papa, and .an,n,a bad iustsa^
„„„ son! "in such a sorrowful tone that he
,an off .obis -room angry with himself, out of
.ortswtth the world in genera,, and wondertng

if life was worth living, after all.

Tbatinsuchamoodheshouldgouptotbe

„,d attic to bide his misery is no marvel, but

'1f'

:iai..Jii'?*iSt':.ii-i

252

" TIME FLIES !

that he should hit upon just the comfort he did
is surely another proof of the depravity of all
things earthly.

The attic, deserted by the older children for
some time past, was beginning to hold attrac-
tions for the younger ones. The day before
had been stormy, and Harry and Eddie had
enjoyed themselves in masquerade fashion dress-
ing themselves in all the garments they could
find. Now, as Ray flung himself down, his
hand hit a sailor hat and immediately his face
brightened.

He tried it on. A little tight, a little shabby,
but " quite a thing, after all," he pronounced it.
" I'll bet it's the one Herv had the summer
father bought him that sailor suit. I wonder if
that was ever worn out ? Come to think, Herv
outgrew it. Wonder if it's around here .' "

He got up lazily and looked about. " Here's
the pants — yes, and the blouse ; those little fel-
lows have dug them out. Not at all bad. I
believe they'd fit me." And quick as a flash,

;s!"

the comfort he did
the depravity of all

e older children for
ning to hold attrac-
;s. The day before
rry and Eddie had
uerade fashion dress-
rarments they could
; himself down, his
immediately his face

tight, a little shabby,
," he pronounced it.
^rv had the summer
[or suit. I wonder if
"ome to think, Herv
around here .'"
ked about. "Here's
ouse ; those little fel-
Not at all bad. I
.nd quick as a flash,

"TIME FLIES !

253

all his melancholy dissipated, Ray ran down to
his room, locked the door, and donned the

clothes.

Supper-time came, and a letter from Herbert
who had been back to school for a month.

" Where's Ray ? " asked papa ; " here's a note
inclosed for him." But nobody knew where he
was. He had been home from school, mamma
knew ; the maid had seen him enter his room,
but he was not to be found in the house now.

An hour passed — two ; mamma was alarmed,
and his father went iii search of him. His
school friends had not seen him, and when bed-
time arrived and he had not appeared, his father
reported at the police stations. The whole
night was spent in searching for the missing
boy. His room was thoroughly t.xamined, but
there was neither word nor sign of his where-
abouts. Indeed, the sight of his school-clothes
kicked under the bed added to the problem.
His cloches-press and drawers showed not an
article of clothing missing ; even his every-day

;S-,V.-f ri^).^j>V.,-.«-..?aa:-ft^^,.',.;.^yf;jVs^',:;^y^^.^^ ..

i I

254

"TIME FLIES !"

I 11

hat lay in the corner of the room. Before
another night the rivers and harbor had been
dragged, detectives hired, rewards offered, tel-
egrams sent to various quarters, cablegrams
delivered at different ports to meet outward-
bound vessels, for he might have taken ship.
Everything was done that could be done, and
yet there was not the slightest dew to his dis-
appearance. No one had seen him ; no one
knew anything about him. Ray Gardcncll had
disappeared as suddenly, as mysteriously as if
the earth had opened and swallowed him.

Here was a sorrow Mr. Gardenell could not
bear for his wife ; here was a burden he could
not lighten. Without God, how could they have
lived the months that followed }

Olive wisely, and without a word to any one,
telegraphed at once for Herbert. Papa was so
busy, mamma so stricken that naturally her
heart longed for her comforter. Quickly the
message was answered by his presence ; the few
words " Come home at once," startled him.

Jlki-

- ^.:jj i.'Kaiiaffiv^j^jiiiaij-aij'.

" TIME FLPiS !

255

the room. Before
d harbor had been
ewards offered, tel-
Liarters, cablegrams
to meet outward-
t have taken ship,
could be done, and
esi clew to his dis-
scen him ; no one
Ray Gardencll had
; mysteriously as if
'allowed him.
jardencll could not
a burden he could
low could they have
id.?

a word to any one,
rbert. Papa was so
that naturally her
orter. Quickly the
s presence ; the few
ice," startled him.

Catching up his sister, who was watching for
him at train-time, he stepped into the parlor and
said, " Now, darling, tell me all."

It was soon told, and, comforted by his pres-
ence, his voice, his strong assurance, " God will
keep him safe," she lay quietly on the couch
where he placed her, and he sought his

mother.

She was in her room on her knees ; she lived
there most of the time lately. Her husband
was out to hear if any news had come yet.

" Mamma, dear mamma ! " He was kneeling
beside her, holding her to his heart close, close,
and with every pressure bringing comfort to her

heart.

" He is safe, mamma ! God sees him, knows
where he is, watches him ; he is safe. Nothing,
no one, is ever lost that God keeps. If we knew
all, we might not be able to keep or save him,
but God can and will. ' All power is given to
me in heaven and earth ' — to our Jesus, mother.
Earth is as safe as heaven ; we never get out of

1- ,

'I
I It

256

" TIME FLIES ! "

his reach, his arms, Ray is not dead ; he can-
not die until our prayers for hirn are answered.
If I knew he was dead to-night, I should know
he was safe in heaven, for God, who never lies,
has given his word that he will save him. Lis-
ten, mamma: 'If ye shall ask anything in my
name, I will do it.' My name! It is so great,
£0 powerful a name, so wonderful that anything
becomes possible to him who uses it. I have
used it. Mother, I am sure our boy is safe.
I've asked, and God says Yes."

She was crying softly now ; blessed tears of
relief. This was her boy holding her ; her boy.
The other boy — God watched him ; God cared
f^r him; he must be safe. Yes, she believed
and tenderly kissing her face, Herbert soothed
her on his bosom, rocking her in his arms as if
she had been Olive, until- she fell asleep.

He hardly breathed then le.st he should disturb
her. His father, found him thus, and together
they laid her on the bed and loosed her
clothes.

"M.,

KS^SS

«i*5sr-\^*^-?'a,?'»*ss-5»;.wTss«»sv\»sest"'-

"TIME FLIES !"

257

LIES ! "

y is not dead ; he can-
for hirn are answered.
>night, I should know
r God, who never lies,
he will save him. Lis-
11 ask anything in my
name ! It is so great,
>nderful that anything
who uses it. I have
sure our boy is safe.
Yes."

now ; blessed tears of
holding hei ; her boy.
ched him ; God cared
;. Yes, she believed
face, Herbert soothed
J her in his arms as if
she fell asleep.
I le.st he should disturb
im thus, and together
bed and loosed her

The heavy slumber was not broken ; it was
the first she had fallen into since Ray dis-
appeared. Then ri.sing from over the dear,
peaceful face, father and son looked into eac".
other's eyes. No need ov words. Instinctive^,
hand grasped hand, and in that moment v ci
felt the other's soul was counterpart of his (v.v ^
They were no longer twain, even in th.;'. dear
relationship of father and son; nay, they . c-o
one, and each opened arms t.. the other in a
loving embrace.

His son pressed to his bosom until he felt his
heart beat against his own. Herbert Gardcnell
senior said fervently, " ' God is our refuge and
strength, a very present help in trouble. There-
fore will not we fear, though the earth be re-
moved and though the mountains be carried into
the midst of the sea, for this God is our God
forever and ever.' "

And the answer was as if his younger self had
spo' en : " ' He is my father's God, and I will
exalt Him.' "

c?wii,?.*ififiew«s.'ATS'3»*»a~' ■

258

"TIME FLIES !

Then they two knelt and agreed as touching

one thing.

Weeks, months passed. Telegrams brought
no hope. Only one vessel had shipped a boy
that day, and he was colored. Many and cruel
were the comments passed ; sympathy and criti-
cisms flowed in f'-om many sources, but as to the
persons concerned, they had reached Solid Rock.
Carefully Olive watched over her mother and
sou^^ht to comfort father. The newspapers of
course had flourished. Many kind things were
said, but " ministers' sons and deacons' daugh-
ters " had to be aired ; much was hinted about
neglecting one's own while tending another's
vineyard ; most of it written, no doubt, by those
who tended neither.

Mr. Gardenell read, smiled, sighed, and say-
in"-, " Little mother must not see this," cut out
the article. Mrs. Gardenell met with a similar
paragraph. "Dear heart, you shall not see this,"
and it was burned. And all this while Herbert
and Olive searched papers daily, lest any of

■fifilliiMrtMJi*'*-!^*'-' •

zaiiim-imMSs^

.lES ! "

ad agreed as touching

I. Telegrams brought
5cl had shipped a boy
ored. Many and cruel
d ; sympathy and criti-
y sources, but as to the
lad reached Solid Rock,
d over her mother and
r. The newspapers of
Many kind things were
IS and deacons' daugh-
much was hinted about
^hile tending another's
tten, no doubt, by those

miled, sighed, and say-
it not see this," cut out
nell met with a similar
, you shall not see this,"
:l all this while Herbert
pers daily, lest any of

' TIME FLIES ! '

259

these objeetionable thing. shouU veaeh e,.her

'"tII nine-days «onder «, over at last, Her-
bert went back to eollege, and everybody tr.ed
,„ settle baelt to former habits.

0„rin, an this strain none had been K.nde.

„ore diligent and pers.tont in h,s efforts^
obtain news of the missing boy, than Cd Go
a„„. He doubled all rewards offered, h,red other

detectives, was unsparing in his endeavors, and,
best of all, never doubted his boy's friend.

..Desure,"hesaidtoMrs.GardeneUoneday,
.,he sure your son himself is not grieving you

,*e this. He is too honorable and manly fo
.hat. I don't believe he is dead. He w, come
back ,0 you some day, and I predict wdl be a

joy of heart to you as long as you hve.

• Thank you," answered Herbert Gardenell,
his eyes flashing out his gratitude "I b..eve
you are right. My <ai.h claims h.m. He .s
Led in Heaven, and therefore guarded on
earth."

it=i.i-aa:-Ha*K.4'?«j--«

.'i.i ['Ji.i.'i<jiiiii-V fi'A-- -LiiTltM

260

" TIME FLIES !

ki,ii

" Rennic loves him," said the colonel gently,
"and if your theories arc true, perhaps he knows
where he is to-night. It lightens things wonder-
fully to think so ; he can never be quite friend-
less while my boy's love can r'^ach hira."

^^^K-^.i*Vfc«iVA36- "

ES!"

d the colonel gently,
•ue, perhaps he knows
;htcns things wonder-
ever be quite friend-
n rf^ach hira."

THE DARKY SAII.OR-BOY.

He trudged alonR unknowing what he sought,
And whistled as he went for want of thought.

Dryden.

IN spite of the colonel's assurance it was
quite true that Ray had brought all this
sorrow on his parents and friends through his
own heedlessness. To do him justice, he had
planned no mischief; he had simply drifted into
it ; but the consequences were as fatal as if with
mllice aforethought he had planned the whole
miserable scheme.

In his bedroom that day he donned the sailor
suit, delighted that it fitted him so well. " I'm
in luck," he said exultantly, kicking his clothes
one side. As he did so his foot came in contact
with something hard ; his eyes shone.

'•What a jolly lark," he cried, fishing a small
361

)i(!*SM**&B.

M JjWftj

20i

THE DARKY SAILOR-BOY.

vial from the pocket of the discarded pants.
"Cowics said his uncle brought this from the
Indies, and it would make a fellov a regular
darky. I believe I'll try it."

No sooner said than done. " My ! that's neat,"
he said, applying a little to his hand. " Let's
see how I'd look ! " And soon his face was so
transformed that his dearest friend would not
have recognized him. He viewed his work with
great satisfaction.

" Not a fellow of them would know me ; I don't
know myself. I'll try just for fim. But here's
the hands; they'll tell tales." Up went the
shirt-.sleeves, and soon Herbert Gardenell's sec-
ond son was a fine-looking, bright-eyed, well-knit
little darky.

He whistled as he thrust the empty boUle
in his pocket, donned his hat and sallied forth,
perfectly delighted when his father passed him
without recognition. Farther up tne street he
met several schoolmates with the same result,
and last oi all he met Olive talking to a friend.

I H I

w^^SisS^tossft^-

THE DARKV SAaOK-BOY.

263

[t-BOY.

discarded pants,
jht this from the
I fello\ a regular

'My! that's neat,"
lis hand. " Let's
an his face was so
friend would not
wed his work with

I know me ; I don't
r fun. But here's
." Up went the
rt Gardenell's sec-
ight-cyed, v.'ell-knit

the empty bottle
: and sall-cJ forth,
father passed him
r up tne street he
h the same result,
alkins to a friend.

her comment as she gi*

aloud. ^>"--P;;;;;::„Harvesa„d.ooUed
«""'"'= 1 L*= properdin, for
-"*"TT;rhe.ooKoutthebo«.ean<.
a sailor to do. 1 h':' ^.^^^^ ^^ ;,, as he

pUchcd >t into *e water^ .^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^„

saw it sink beneath -^ ^.^, ^„a

item of information g>vc,n h>m

u-'''*'-''"'";:fl::isnoteasiiyre,novea.,

""-'"^^'*° ;,.,„tenmeoutofusin.
1 suppose tlrat was ^.ofr=.^^^^^^^^^^^^^,„^^,

i,,.. Jonas remarke.. ^^^^ ^^.j^,, .„

"^''^";:araeertainchen,icaiso,nt,on

while. He heard ,^ ^^^^^ „hat it was.

„o,.W remove .t, but ' ck-knite and

Kaymond bad swapped «^^^^^^^^__^^^_,

.everai other thrngs^or^^^^^^^^^^^,,,.,,
rpr-rrJs own arm months before,

.-airs«M!rM*fe«*s-

Ij'l

264

THE DARKY SAILOR-BOY.

■s

1.1

I'.

I
I

and it was there yet. Perhaps it would yield
while fresh. He bought a piece of soap and
went to the water; his hands were black as ever
in spite of all his rubbing.

His father.^ Well, of course he would forgive
him and help him out all he could ; but — why,
he couldn't go to school ; and the boys, what
would they sav ? considerations that should
have entered his plans some time before. Such
a scrape ! He was getting so ashamed of these
continued difficulties, and — what would Olive
say, and mamma — dear little mother-woman !
she must never know. If he could ship for a
sliort voyage it might wear off. Just the thing ;
what a brilliant idea ! So it happened that after
several unsuccessful applications he was taken
aboard of a vessel just weighing anchor, and two
hours after donning that suit of clothes was put-
ting out to sea as Richard Green, darky sailor-
boy, in the ocean-bound Maria Thompson.

No wonder his disappearance was shrouded in
mystery, and his mother and father filled w'-h

iteS-';'" ■'

ILOR-BOV.

rhaps it would yield
I piece of soap and
ds were black as ever

arse he would forgive
e could ; but — why,
; and the boys, what
rations that should
i time before. Such
so ashamed of these
— what would Olive
ittle mother-woman !
he could ship for a
off. Just the thing ;
: happened that after
ations he was taken
hing anchor, and two
it of clothes was put-
Green, darky sailor-
ria Thompson,
incc was shrouded in
nd father filled v.--':h

THE DARKY SAILOR-BOY.

265

sorrow. How Hale this poor sick colored ch,M
tossing about in his bunk, suffering with nausea
aisgusted with the coarse food offered h,m,ap.
pearedhke the boy fron, that Christian hon^e.

.. The way ot the transgressor .s hard,
haps no Bible verse ever meant so much .0 Ray
Jnd Gardcnell as that did for the next few
months. Oh! to be home again, to have one
g„„p,e of mamma, hear father say but one
! My son." He wept .-.imself to sleep n,gt
after night, aad woke tired, sore, balf.wdd. He
.ould not eat the food at hrst, and t e coa.

iokcs of the men shocked him, h,s had been
uch a carefultraining. They called him " Gen-
tleman Nigger," and knocked him about ,n the.
rough fashion, denying him the little kmdnesses

he mi^ht have won but for his color. He wa
Irlilgmanyuseful lessons. but,ohMn sow
a school, and .t was long before be go. use. .0

it or any of his ready wit returned.

They were out on a long voyage. In
course of a few months the sailors began to

,^i^ t:

■fe: a^ :>^:,;^faa-iiiaaiaiwiW^

266

THE DARKY SAILOR-BOY.

rally him, declaring "Nigger Dick" was getting
white, losing the tan, etc. Alarmed, he took
opportunity to examine himself in .he captain's
mirror. Truly the stain was disappearing fast.
He would be white again ; an almost despair of
this or of any change in his hard lot, had taken
hold of him. But in the midst of his joy en-
tered fear of detection. His secret must not be
discovered ; he deti:rmined to run away at the
first port they entered.

The end of a year found this child of love and
care in a strange land among people of a strange
tongue, almost penniless and quite sick.

At the hospital the nurse was kind, but she
did not understand a word of Lnglish. In his
fever delirium he raved of home and mamma,
begging to be forgiven — prayed for. But when
the doctor, who knew some English, questioned
him as he grew better, he steadily refused to
say one word of his friends. He felt sure he
had broken their hearts, he would not disgrace
them by disclosing his name.

til

\ ''

^;3^^jj^ai£ rt<VM..i ««..

THE L^AF.K-Y SAILOR-BOY.

267

DR-BOY.

Dick" was getting
Alarmed, he took
;lf in .he captain's
. disappearing fast,
i almost despair of
lard lot, had taken
idst of his joy en-
secret must not be
;o run away at the

lis child of love and
people of a strange
quite sick.

; was kind, but she

of Lnglish. In his
home and mamma,

lyed for. But when
English, questioned
steadily refused to

s. He felt sure he
would not disgrace

He hopedhe.onld find son. American-bound

vessel when he grew stronger. Just to get home
and hear mamma pray for him once as she used

to do. became the one longing of his heart. He

, ein—.— beyond pardon, he feared —
wassuchasmu.i — oeyon i , , , ,, ^

for he had been well-taught, and neglected the

truth He recalled Ben. and his hungry eyes as
he spoke of their family prayers. Ah! he under-

stood that now.

Just to kneel about the altar on.e more and hear
father and mother pray t Tears would burst forth

at the thought, shut h,s eyes ever so tishtly, and

then the foreign .«rsew.«ld bustle about, hove

i„g over him and chattering her sohcttude.

Poor Ray. he d,d not th.nk of praymg for

himself; it never entered his head as poss.bl

To be prayed for, to kneel by mamma and s

his prayers as he usea to years ago. th, >

his hungry ery. To just he once more ... us

own soft bed and die at home -for he wa. .re

he-.vasgoin,..die;bu.hemustgethon,-and
get mamma w pray for him first.

? .5

%
§

CHAPTER XXI.

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

Our Father in Heaven — tell me the rest,

There's something about a forgiveness of sin,
Put that in ! put that in 1 — and then
I'll follow your words and say an amen.

J \V, Watson.

IT was a long, long year to Herbert Gardenell
and his wife, the year that followed the dis-
appearance of their son. It seemed to move on
leaden wings.

Their eldest had gone back to college, and the
house seemed desolate robbed of the two active
youths, but the father's faith seemed never to
waver from the hour he knelt with his first-born
and claimed G'. V;. promise to two agreed on
earth as touching anything they should ask. If
he had hours of doubt or fear he never revealed

268

TJSsS-;^*****'*-'* -"* *"

R XXI,

HE PROMISE.
- tell me the rest,

It a forgiveness of sin,
I — and then
md say an amen.

J W. Watson.

ar to Herbert Gardenell

:ar that followed the dis-

It seemed to move on

back to college, and the
robbed of the two active
3 faith seemed never to
knelt with his first-born
3mise to two agreed on
ing they should ask. If
or fear he never revealed

268

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

269

them. Always the same hopeful virords, the
same cheerful spirit greeted wife and children.

The missing boy was never forgotten. At
the family altar, tenderly, lovingly, expectantly,
he was commended to divine love and v^ratchful
care. Mrs. Gardenell doubted if he was ever
out of her husband's thoughts, he was so doubly
tender to all young life, so abundantly sympa-
thetic with all child-woes. Always kind and
thoughtful of youth, now no chile c ned to
pass unnoticed. It seemed as if his sorrow
sanctified a 1 boyhood. She often saw him on
the street-corner stop until some step, heard in
the distance, brought its owner near. How
gently yet how cheerily he always greeted the
stranger, and yet with an almost disappointment
in his eyes as if he had expected what he had
not found. He seemed ever looking for some

one.

One day she was in the library, work in hand,
when Col. Gordon was announced. Presently
Judge Wilde dropped in, and the three gentle-

j-j^'.-.'SS'WW'i* '* -•'

270

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

i< J

men fell into an earnest conversation. Sud-
denly, in the midst of it, Mr. Gardencll rose
hastily from his chair and opened the hall door.
He shut it again instantly at sight of one of the
maids disappearing through the corridor, but he
did not resume the conversation or his chair.
Instead he walked slowly up and down the room,
one hand for a momen; flung across his eyes.
As it dropped he met the questioning glance of
his friends and smiled sadly, as still pacing the
room ha repeated softly : —

" I walk my parlor floor.
And through the open door

I hear a footfall on the chamber stair ;
I'm stenping toward the hall
To give the boy a call,

And then bethink me that — he is not there!

" I thread the crowded street,

A satchelled lad I meet.
With the same beaming eye and colored hair,

And as he's running by

Follow him with my eye.
Scarcely believing that — he is not there 1 "

■vmt'

<^X^:•

iiii-i^i-^'

IE PROMISE.

t conversation. Sud-
t, Mr. Gardencll rose
opened the hall door.

at sight of one of the
rh the corridor, but he
versation or his chair,
up and down the room,

flung across his eyes.

questioning glance of
dly, as still pacing the

floor,

open door

chamber stair ;

rard the hall

a call,

lat — he is not there I

ivded street,

I meet,

ig eye and colored hair,
ning by
1 my eye,

— he is not there I "

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

271

Before the full, rich tremulous voice had
finished the second stanza, his audience was re-
duced to one person. Mrs. Gardenell hurried
to her own room to hide her tears, Colonel Gor-
don seized h'. hat and in the street i.clow paced
up and down like a madman. Only Judge
Wilde remained, and he was leaning forward in
his chair, face hidden in his hands.

His pastor stopped before him and laid a
hand on the bowed head. " He will be here, old
friend," he said, a thrill of joy in his low deep
tones. "Be here speedily, thank God. Beloved,
our Lord reigneth, blessed be His name ! "

So Mr. Gardcnell's sorrow tinged his life with
an added glory, an under-glow suggestive of sun-
set clouds or October woods ; a sort of " victori-
ous suffering," as Jud.e Wilde called it. His
gentleness was greater, his sympathies broader,
for those who strayed or sorrowed. True pain
should always mean gain to God's own. His
devoted people said he preached better, and his
labors among the bereaved and fallen were more

272

HOLDING TO THE Pkv/MISE.

abundant. As for his wife, she tried to carry
the same sunny face ; husband or children
never missed her smile, but her health failed
steadily, perceptibly, until more and more she
was confined to the house, and part of the time
to her own room.

At these times Olive was a great comfort, for
Herbert had left her to fill his place as well as
her own, he said, at departing, and she was trying
hard to do it. His occasional vacations brought
fresh air and new impulse into every avenue of
the home-life. His father and he were insep-
arable during these weeks, and mamma always
revived physically.

Mrs. Rogers wrote a long letter from her
Western home.

"That precious boy is safe, and will be home
again soon," it ran. " It is one of his pranks
which has carried him farther than he intended.
The dear Lord will take care of him. Be sure
he will never get away from the grip of the
fifteen yars of your prayer and instruction.

PRuMtSE.

;, she tried to carry
usb-.nd or children
ut her health failed
more and more she
and part of the time

5 a great comfort, for
1 his place as well as
ng, and she was trying
,nal vacations brought
: into every avenue of
r and he were insep-
s, and mamma always

long letter from her

safe, and will be home
t is one of his pranks
rther than he intended.
; care of him. Be sure
r from the grip of the
prayer and instruction.

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

271

Be of good cheer. I expect to hear he is at
home every hour."

That letter helped wonderfully ; so did the
sympathy and prayers of Prof. Germaine and
Esther, and of dear Eddie Campbell, who, with
Achor, took a week to visit the " dearest mother
in the world." There was Judge Wilde, Fred
Walton, and hosts of friends uniting hearts and
sympathies and petitions.

" We will surround our God with a hedge of
promises, Yensie," said the judge one day.
" He will never break the least of them to get
out."

"Nay, rather," commented Mr. Walton, who
stood near, " he will link them into a chain to
draw the wanderer home."

They were all so kind. Still the time was
long, very long, for every day had to be lived,
and Mrs. Gardrnell realized as never before that
it takes three hundred and sixty-five days to
make a year.

The anniversary of Ray's disappearance came

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HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

11^

III-

274

,„a went unmarked exec,,, with a fresh baptism
tears in mother's room, a fresh wa.t,ns on
GoL renewed eourage in fathers study, and a

long letter from Herbert.

■fwe will elaim his speedy return by fa..h. a

,hree o'clock this afternoon." he wrote. •' Mee

me then a. the throne, and let us ra.se our
• . mn? the Doxology

Jericho-shout for victory. Smg
J . . . Tf T am not where

after prayer. I'll* 0^" y^^" " ^ ^"^ "

; Ian hear, God will, and, feel sure of h,s

. Be it unto you even as thou writ.

Thev followed his request fully « was a

sight for angels, that tearful group as they

!n.; the little boys with eyes wide open wuh

:o:d;r, mamma with closed ones tbroug^H
,ears crept softly. Olive with ,u.venngl^s ana

,.„.bowed head, and papa erect w«h head
thrown back and lifted eyes, arms folded on hrs

breast and glory touching his face.

And in a small college chamber, at the same

bour. stood two young men, hand clasped n
L , eye shining to eye, smile answermg sm.le

5i7^ 1;

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

275

PROMISE.

vith a fresh baptism
a fresh waiting on
father's study, and a

dy return by faith, at
,," he wrote. "Meet
,nd let us raise our
Sing the Doxology
ti. If I am not where
nd I feel sure of his
lou wilt.' "

uest fully It was a
earful group as they
h eyes wide open with
sed ones through which
with quivering lips and
papa erect, with head
;yes, arms folded on his
ig his face.

ge chamber, at the same
r men, hand clasped in
'e, smile answering smile

singing the same words exultantly over and over,
and as they closed the fervent "Glory to God"
of Stanton Cartwright was followed by the sol-
emnly joyful "Amen" of his friend.

It was a month after, and Monday ; mamma
was far from well. Twilight hour, the little
boys in bed, Olive thrumming on the piano in
the room below, she waited for her husband's
return from a bereaved parishioner's.

There was a Ere upon the grate before which
she sat, for the spring was late and the day
chilly. Her eyes were fixed on the coals as if
she read something in their glowing depths ;
preoccupied, ears filled unconsciously with the
music from the room below, she scarcely heard
a step, and did not look up as the door opened.
In the dusk she did not discern whose figure
knelt down before her ; it was not an uncom-
mon attitude with her husband, but the touch of
the hand, the tone of the voice which said
" Mamma, pray for me," thrilled her deepest
soul.

anii

rfJM

276

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

She was very still. Oh ! how still God kept
her. Instinctively, she took in the situation;
understood the weakness and the need of the
sick soul and body at her feet.

" Pray for me, mamma ; teach me ' Our
Father ' ; I've forgotten how it goes. I must
say it once again."

"Our Father which art in heaven," she
began in low, clear, tremulous tones.

" Our Father which art in heaven," echoed
the voice of her lost boy, and she pressed with
both hers the hand he had given her as she said
ferveivtly, reverently, " Hallowed be thy name,"
recalling what Herbert had said about that name.
Like a baby the great boy beside her knee
followed her through the prayer. Had he gone
back to childhood again ? A terrible fear smote

her heart.

" Forgive us our debts," — he repeated that
twice — " as we forgive our debtors — I never
had any to forgive — never had any. Forgive
me my debts," he said again.

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

277

I PROMISE.

! how still God kept

ok in the situation ;

and the need of the

set.

la ; teach me ' Our

low it goes. I must

irt in heaven," she
ous tones.

t in heaven," echoed
and she pressed with

given her as she said
ill owed be thy name,"
i said about that name.
; boy beside her knee
prayer. Had he gone

A terrible fear smote

s," — he repeated that
our debtors — I never
ver had any. Forgive
:ain.

Mamma stocked and pressed her lips .o hU
aan,pcur,s;she«smaWin6a„effonatseU.con-

"tsay 'Now I lay me.' mamma" She did so,
he (oUowing as before, word for word.

". Now I must go to bed."

yensieGardenell rose and drew her boys arm

Jough her own. Together they went aeross

the hall and entered his chamber.

"^he dainty bed had been aired every day srn^
his departure, waiting for his com,ng-,shwa
! glad Fresh flowers stood on the stand and
ll. Olive Uept them there, their fragrance

filled the room. , • ^^ ,

He sighed contentedly as he dropped mto a
A of >,U feet and unlaced
chair, and she dropped at his feet

tiis shoes. ^'' he said.

. • ^ fr. he home, mamma, he saia.
" It is nice to oe nuiu^,

'« I'm very tired." ^^

-Yes, darling; you will soon rest.

^ T rould not rest
.<0, yes! I will soon rest. I cou a n

away from you, mamma."

...;S5ap"'

-JB

^1 i

278

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

She helped him undress, and soon in snowy
night-shirt, his curly head pillowed where it had
been from infancy, he lifted hir face for her kiss.

" You will sing me to sleep as you used to do,
mamma ; that was so long ago."

And she nerved herself to sing until his regu-
lar breathing told her he slept. Then she knelt
down and thanked God.

How she longed to see his face. She feared
the gas-light might shine on him and awake him
if she lighted it. She dreaded to leave him for
an instant, but she did slip away a moment at
length, for the tiny night-lamp kept in her
room.

" I wonder where my wife is .' " asked a
familiar voice as she opened her door. " Surely
this buoyant step is not hers ! Darling, what
has come to you ? "

" My boy, Herbert, my precious boy. Don't
detain me ! Pass me the lamp ; I must see his
face. Herbert, God is good."

He did not answer her. The strong, brave

HE PROMISE.

ss, and soon in snowy
I pillowed where it had
ed hif^ face for her kiss,
leep as you used to do,
r ago."

: to sing until his regu-
slept. Then she knelt

e his face. She feared
on him and awake him
eaded to leave him for
slip away a moment at
;ht-lamp kept in her

y wife is .' " asked a

led her door. " Surely

hers ! Darling, what

r precious boy. Don't
lamp ; I must see his

30d."

er. The strong, brave

HOLDING TO THE PROMISE.

279

man was unnerved by the sudden joy ; they had
changed places for awhile.

Yes, it was Ray, it was Ray. Fond faces
bent over him, and tender, though light kisses
were dropped on his face. Every time he stirred
that night he put out his hand always to find
another hand ready to clasp it, and he smiled in
his sleep and murmured Mamma !

That night Herbert Gardenell junior received
the following telegram :

" St. Luke, 15 chap. 32d verse."

.. Stan, Stan, old fellow." he cried, bursting
into his chum's room and waving the paper
above his head, «'read that, and see if you
don't want to sing the Doxology again;" and
then two young men flung themselves into each
other's arms and laughed and cried as if sud-
denly gone daft.

I XXII.

REJOICING,

ig smiles
icb angel's face
smiles of joy that grew
er and anon
1 of the hymn.

T. VVestwood.

ent the telephone bell
s study, and " Halloo ! "
plied it to the mouth-

inswered.

praise God ; Ray has

ny soul, and forget not

:ome to him ? "

Herbert Gardenell had

CAUSE FOR REJOICING.

281

„„.e.aUU in *e opinion ana sUU of hMr,e„a
..an,nanypM-anJn«=;^-^^^,^,,,„,

■•";;:"r::"-uer;we.a,,
r;:::";. .0 Hi, .on* ana a .00a

.i.u.ion, una. Ooa. H= ha, not W J

. u . to die A little medicine may help,
him home to ciie.
but Nature is the grand restorer, and ,ustn

Nature demands sleep."

And sleep Ray did. It seemed as if he

1 If he aroused for a moment,
never cet enough, it ne

never y^ consciousness

a word of intelligence, a gleam 01

ff n<Tain But there was a
w-is all, and he was off again, o
Tolc o restful satisfaction on the young face,
look ot resu .veDened as the

of child-like abandonment, that oeepene

u fr. the nrofessor's delight.
hours went by, much to .ho F

Hnite early the morning atter K^y

f ato 1 the R=v. Garaeneii. His fivs. m-

" ontaWnB the ministers hana, was,

quiry, on taKin^ ^ ^^

.. Have you a missing son . ^^

..No, thank God. he is returned, repUed Mr.

.,-»»«-#'-

liiiiil

383

CAUSE FOR REJOICING.

Gardenell fervently, thereby relieving his visitor
of a great load.

He introduced himself as Capt. Shaw, and
informed the gentleman that he had brought his
son home in his vessel. He then told where he
had found the boy.

It seems Ray knew his as an American ship
by the flag at the mast-head, and begged to be
brought back in it. His name he was deter-
mined not to divulge, until the captain refused
to bring him on any other conditions.

" He actually got on his knees to me, sir,
when he found I was bound to New York, and
begged so hard I could not deny him. Seemed
as if the sight of the old flag set him wild. He
ran up the mast like a regular soilor, and kissed
it as it floated in the breeze. I could hardly
believe it when he said he belonged to you, sir ;
I had seen you at the Mission. But my wife
took a wonderful fancy to the boy, and said she
could see his likeness to his mother, which is a
fact, sir. His pretty ways won her heart at

W ¥ i
I I f

CAUSE FOR REJOICING.

283

eby relieving his visitor

If as Capt. Shaw, and

that he had brought his

He then told where he

lis as an American ship
head, and begged to be
is name he was deter-
ntil the captain refused
er conditions.
I his knees to me, sir,
ound to New York, and
not deny him. Seemed
I flag set him wild. He
:gular soilor, and kissed
•reeze. I could hardly
he belonged to you, sir ;
Mission. But my wife
the boy, and said she
his mother, which is a
'ays won her heart at

once, and 1 shan't .ay I didn't set a Bood deal
by him myself. He's been luwspirited and un-
na.uraHorayoun«.l,ing.butImuUno<lo,.
tbafstheremnant of the fever- nasty tlungs.

Those fevers leave folks kind of shaky.

.. Last nigh. «hen« got so close to land .t

seemed as if nothing could hold him. We lay
„.t in the harbor, bnt some of the men were
coming ashore, and he begged so hard to come

.00, I hadnt the heart to say No. But »,fe, she
„orried'and fretted all night,especiaily after the

„,en came home saying he ran oft like wdd
the minute they touched the wharf, and no.hmg
would do but I must come to you this mormng

Mr Gardenell was very grateful to this good
man and his wife. They never would take a
penny of passage-money for Ray, h-t were
made happy in numberless ways by the bo
parents in the following weeks and years,
Ly felt this was a debt they could never repay.

Of the months spent prior .0 his voyage home

I
I

f» 'if

284

CAUSE FOR REJOICING

Ray had revealed nothing to these friends. His
parents must hear that from his own lips.

Herbert arrived on the noon train to add to
the joy of the occasion. Unlike the brother of
that Bible prodigal he was unstinted in his
attentions to the returned wanderer ; nothing
was too hard to perform that brought him com-
fort or pleasure. It was ample recompense for
many weary watchings when one day Ray
opened his eyes and said, with much of his old-
time vivacity as he caught sight of Herbert's
book, "What, old fellow, still pegging away > "

After that he came back to himself rapidly.
In a day or two he sat up, received Olive and
the little fellows later, and finally was carried,
chair-fashion, to the dining-room below, by
Stanton and Herbert, who had constituted
themselves his body-guard.

Yes, Stanton Cartwright was with them.
Vacation coming a few days after Herbert's
return, left him free, and Mr. Gardenell felt he
must have him. Ray was soon able to be re-

■»H ,r

il--:i^-.»^.-t.^''rfr-'^^;«--'^---'

^^^^!M^

REJOICING.

J to these friends. His
rom his own lips,
ic noon train to add to
Unlike the brother of

was unstinted in his
ncd wanderer ; nothing
that brought him com-

ample recompense for

when one day Ray
1, with much of his old-
ght sight of Herbert's

still pegging away .' "
)ack to himself rapidly.

up, received Olive and
and finally was carried,
lining-room below, by

who had constituted
rd.

right was with them.
r days after Herbert's
1 Mr. Gardenell felt he
/as soon able to be re-

CAUSE FOK RF.JOICING.

285

n.oved to Bioomingle, and a delightful two weeks
fallowed before young Cartwright turned towards
nother and the farm. Every voice urged his
longer stay; each had the same answer, "I am

needed at home." To Mrs. Gardenell. whose
favorite he was. he said more: "You know how

mothers miss their big t^ys?"

.. Yes • and I must not rob any mother of such
a boy; but you are very dear -like an own son

to us, Stanton."

.■Thank you," he replied, kissing her tenderly.
..You will send me the best of news soon.
Ray '"he said, on parting with the invahd.

Ray understood him. -< Stanton, just hold on
for me and wait. I hardly know myself yet.

Herbert and Mr. Gardenell were to accom-
pany Stanton to the city. The two young men
stood on the veranda awaiting the gentleman
the morning of the departure. Cartwright had

lust received the warmest of caresses in partmg
from Mrs. Gardenell, and turned to Olive, hid-
den somewhat as she stood beside Ray.

CAUSE FOR REJOICING,

286

"Aren't you going to kiss me good-by, Olive?"
he asked, stretching out his hand, as she re-
mained in the background.

" I'm too big to kiss boys now," she answered
half-saucily, half-shyly.

" Why, Olive ! " cried Herbert, " not this boy."

" And I've grown big enough to kiss you in-
stead," laughed Cartwright, lifting her chin and
placing the caress on her lips.

"Another law of compensation," said Her-
bert, joining the laugh.

"Delightful!" chimed in Ray, "and never
brought to my notice before. Lucky chaps ! I
begin to estimate my privileges. I've been won-
dering what I should do when too big to be
kissed. I see. Then I shall come into liberty
to kiss. Poor Princess ! You've had your day
and it's over ; you are only a girl. I pity you,
but submission's the word."

" Spare your pity till it's called for," returned
Stanton with a sly little laugh. " Judging from
my past experience it isn't such a fearful thing

-JTS .-

i'^iuilT^-

V. Lv'-*ft-aj!**(-c

.-rt^™^-?-"3£:rjr7 usr,t^.

REJOICING.

kiss me good-by, Olive ? "

ut hrs hand, as she re-

Lind.

)oys now," she answered

Herbert, " not this boy.
g enough to kiss you in-
ght, lifting her chin and
;r lips.
)mpensation," said Her-

:d in Ray, "and never
efore. Lucky chaps ! I
r'vileges. I've been won-
do when too big to be
[ shall come into liberty
1 ! You've had your day

only a girl. I pity you,
)rd."

it's called for," returned
; laugh. "Judging from
sn't such a fearful thing

CAUSE FOR REJOICING.

287

to submit in such cases. I see my kiss has only
turned pearl to ruby."

The ruby flashed just then. "Boys always
see too much and take too much tor granted.
I shall always kiss when and whom I please." —
Here Ray encored. - " Papa, papa," running to
meet that gentleman, who just then appeared,
and thus hide her confusion.

"She appeals to boys of a larger growth.
Courage, Stanton ; you and I will grow in years

and wisdom."

" I'm afraid you sadly need the last, Ray."

laughed mamma just then, pitying her girlie.

" I see you are getting well fast. We shall have

to furnish you with something substantial soon

on which to sharpen your wits."

Tne summer at Bloomingle passed, oh! so
sweetly. No company after Stanton left except
an occasional visit from a friend. The hours
were quiet, restful, and freighted with peace.
The brothers took short rambles ' ogether, pleas-
ant rides ; Herbert read aloud while Ray lounged

288

CAUSE FOR REJOICING.

near, and ofttimes papa and mamma and Olive
were part of his audience. They lingered long
in the beautiful spot — until it was nearly time
for Herbert to go back to college.

His summer had not been unimproved. Many

and long were the conversations he and Ray

held together over better things, and one night,

just at dusk, he rapped at his mother's door.

" Come in, my son ! " She knew his step.

At the open window she was gazing out over

the water, Olive's voice as she sang to her

father while they rowed lazily along, floating

over the waves to her. It was the then new

hymn that made Sankey famous: "The Ninety

and Nine."

Herbert dropped beside his mother to listen.

" Rejoice, for the Lord has found His own,"
rang out the clear, sweet voice.

" That's it, mamma ; the very story I came to
tell ; 'the Lord has found his own.' "

She turned and put her soft palm on his cheek
caressingly.

m REJOICING.

pa and mamma and Olive
ience. They lingered long
— until it was nearly time
ick to college.
)t been unimproved. Many
onversations he and Ray
ttcr things, and one night,
ed at his mother's door.
! " She knew his step.
)W she was gazing out over
voice as she sang to her
Dwcd lazily along, floating
ler. It was the then new
nkey famous: "The Ninety

beside his mother to listen.
; Lord has found His own,"
sweet voice.

na ; the very story I came to
found his own.' "
»ut her soft palm on his cheek

¥*>

■tH

CAUSE FOR REJOICING.

:^89

" You mean Ray, my son ? "

"I mean Ray;" and just then there was an-
other tap at the door.

" Yes," said the mother encouragingly ; and
with a gentle pressure of her hand which she un-
derstood, Herbert vanished out of one door as his
brother entered the other. Herbert knew Ray
would like to have mother to himsdf. Seated
at another window their voices reached him, but
conveyed no meaning ; only the soft murmur of
ea'^nest tones.

" Darling mamma, I am found, found, found ! "
That was what Ray said, and she kissed his lips
for every repetition of the precious word.

" I have almost believed it ever since God
brought me home. With home it seemed as if
I got Him — Jesus; and when I lay in my own
bed it seemed his arms, and your kisses were
his tender pardons pressed on my heart. I could
not think much, I dared not believe it true. I
cannot reason it out now, but I believe He is
mine, and I know " — emphatically — "I am

290

CAUSE FOR REJOICING.

his — all his, mamma ; body, soul, spirit, forever,
ever more. I am given away ; I am not my own ;
I will not be ; I am so glad to get rid of myself.
O, little mother ! Herbert is just a saint — a liv-
ing, loving, manly saint ; the kind Heaven loves ;
and I want you to ask God to make me as nearly
like him as it is possible."
" Like Jesus, you niean ? "
" Yes, like Jesus ; for that is just what Her-
bert is." And just then over the waters came
again Olive's sweet refrain : " Rejoice, for the
Lord brings back his own," and leaning from
her window mamma echoed it full and clear and
sweet. It fell on her husband's ear like an
angel-note out of the sky above as it descended
on them: "Rejoice, for the Lord brings back

his own."

He bared his head, he dropped his oar, and
just then two strong manly voices, with simul-
taneous impulse, caught up her words and sent
them back : " Rejoice, for the Lord brings back
his own."

irit, forever,
»ot my own ;
d of myself,
jaint — aliv-
eaven loves ;
me as nearly

5t what Her-
waters came
oice, for the
leaning from
nd clear and

ear like an
, it descended

brings back

his oar, and
s, with simul-
ords and sent
d brings back

CHAPTER XXill.

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

Heaven is not always angry when he strikes,
But most chastises those whom most he likes.

John Pomfrst.

THE rower understood the import of that
refrain, so did the girl beside him. Not
a word she utteied as he hastened shoreward;
her singing was over for ihat night ; and as the
boat touched the wharf she sprang over the
ground, into the house and to her own room.

One watcher saw her and presently as she
sobbed, a sorrowful . little heap upon her bed,
some one stooped over her, and, picking her up,
carried her in his arms to a rocking-chair.

"Ollie darling, the Shepherd has room for
another in his arms ; is it you ? "
No answer.

991

■ r

292

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

" OlHe, little sister, will you let Him have his
own ? "

Still no answer.

" Ollie, my life for yours, my soul for yours,
if it were possible, because I love you. His
greater love accomplished both ; will you thank
Him ? "

Still she was silent; not even a sob, now.
Only a face pressed close to his bosom as she
clune: to him.

" I cannot save you, darling, or I would. Papa,
mamma, Ray — we are all powerless. One only
is mighty to save. Will you let Him .' "

Not one word. He held her close, and rocked
back and forth in quiet for awhile, then asked in
a tone she always answered, " Olive, will you, or
will you not, take my Christ for your Saviour ? "

" I can't — oh ! I can't."

" Do you mean I will not ? "

" No, no, no ! I can't, Hervie ; really and truly
I can't. You have all left me, and I am miser-
able, but I can't."

JSED.

t Him have his

soul for yours,
ove you. His
will you thank

n a sob, now.
bosom as she

I would. Papa,
;ss. One only
^im .' "

ose, and rocked
, then asked in
ve, will you, or
3ur Saviour ? "

really and truly
nd I am miser-

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

293

In vain he plead, reasoned, prayed with her.
At last he rose to go.

" Olive," h said sadly, " this may be my
last opportunity to plead with you. If you
would as persistently say ' I will,' as you now
say ' I can't,' Heaven would rejoice over another
found. I am sorry for you ; you are in danger.
Promise me at least this much, that you will de-
cide once and for all, either for or against my
Lord before you write to me again. Then send
me your decision. Oli' e, what you need now
is to face your own soul and the truth, and de-
cide. It rests entirely with you, and with you
only, whether you will be saved or lost. Will
you promise me.> I am going away in the
morning."

"Yes;" she promised him reluctantly, and
then sobbed herself to sleep ; Herbert's solem-
nity frightened her.

One, two, three, four — the weeks passed
rapidly. Back to the city again. Rsy was well
enough to begin study once more, under papa who

ViA

■Si

■at

f^r

iHtlflk

294 CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

would make a careful teacher, and Olive went
back to school. Many and pleasant were the let-
ters from Herbert, full of college life and Stan-
ton, with sweet and frequent messages to Olive,
and occasional little notes, but r.ot a word as yet
had .he written in return. That question he
left with her to settle kept her uneasy and rest-
less most of the time. She was not ready to
face it. and for the first time in her life felt
almost indignant with her brother, since it
stood between her and the correspondence

she love'i.

Winter set in early and severe, the thermome-
ter way below zero, with fierce and bitter winds.
The sudden cold made work for kind hands in
many a destitute family. Coming home from
such an errand one day Mr. Gardenell met a
servant girl at the door with a telegram in her
hand a boy had just delivered.

It was customary for his wife to read and
answer such communications when he was away,
but her head was aching to-day, and she had

USED.

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

295

and Olive went
ant were the let-
e life and Stan-
issages to Olive,
,ot a word as yet
hat question he
uneasy and rest-
ras not ready to
; in her life felt
brother, since it
correspondence

re, the thermome-
and bitter winds.

"or kind hands in

lining home from
Gardenell met a

a telegram in her

wife to read and
when he was away,
.day, and she had

fallen into a light sleep, from which Ray had
said she must not be awakened.

Satisfied with the girl's explanation, the gen-
tleman said, "It is doubtless of little impor-
tance," and passed on to the study. The warm
room with the welcome glow in the fireplace was
pleasant after the dreary scene from which he
had come. " God is good to me," he said, donning
dressing-gown and slippers and seating himself
in an easy chair before he opened his telegram.

What ! He started as if shot.

" Your son lies very low — accident — come immediately. —
Dr. W."

He sat stunned. His son! What son. ^ Not
Herbert? O, no! not him. What harm had
evei, could ever touch him.' That danger could
approach this precious child had never entered
his thoughts before. But who else had he at

H ? Was the telegram for him, anyway .'

He looked at the address, then the signature, and

groaned. He knew Dr. W well ; he was

the last man to alarm anybody unnecessarily.

*..

MW*

296

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

He read the words again : " Lying low," " ac-
cident." Were there any accidents with God ?
Could Heaven want his son ? He took out his
watch ; an hour and a half before the next train.
How interminable that time!

He got up and walked the floor, a life-long
habit when troubled or perplexed. Herbert
suffering, needing him, dying, perhaps, without
him. He staggered and sat down again. If
he was only there ! What could he do if he
was ? His impotency, his utter helplessness and
nothingness broke on him as never before. His
wife! Who would break this news to her?
Could he.' yet there was no one else. How
would Ray bear this in his shattered condition ?
Olive } then he groaned again ; her idolized
brother.

He fell on his knees — his never-failing refuge :

" Lord, Lord, Lord ! yet will we trust, though
the earth be removed. Thy will is right, thy
will is best. I know not anything, O, my lov-
ing Lord ! "

^^^^H

.\ '

USED.

ying low," "ac-
:nts with God ?
[c took out his
: the next train.

loor, a life-long
:xcd. Herbert
lerhaps, without
own again. If
Id he do if he
helplessness and
-er before. His
news to her?
3ne else. How
ered condition ?
I ; her idolized

;r-failing refuge :
ve trust, though
ill is right, thy
ling, O, my lov-

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

297

That was all he could say, but the answer
came: "To them that have no might He in-
creaseth strength." Ah I he could claim that,
surely, " no might." He rose calmed, comforted,
and went to seek his wife and children.

But as he went he thought of Horace Ger-
maine. So the telephone sent out its message
again : —

"Can you go with me on the next train to
H ? Herbert lies low ; accident."

A few questions, then, " I will meet you at
the depot."

Yensic had waked from her sleep refreshed.
He entered softly and knelt beside her chair.
"God is good, Ennie," he said tenderly.

Ah ! She read below the words. " Herbert,
husband," — she was on her feet ; she knew she
was needed ; must be brave to meet some sor-
row, — "you have bad news."

"I have sad news," he corrected. "A tele-
gram, love ; I must take the next train to H .''

She turned on him startled eyes.

298

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

" Some one needs you there ? " inquiringly.
"Our son. Yensie, what if Herbert has
received his call ? "
" To Africa ? "

" No, to glory. What if they need him in
Heaven .-' "

She put out her hands and he drew her to his
heart. " He lives, but he lies low ; that is how
the message reads."

" I must go with ycu, Herbert."
" Can you, dear wife ; are you able ? "
"Could I stay here? Herbert, I must go.
Ring for Mary Ann ; I will be ready."

"Brave little woman," he said. "I will go
and prepare Ray and Olive for our departure."

"Go to Olive, I will see Ray," and as the
maid gathered a few necessities into a valise
Mrs. Gardenell sought Ray in the parlor below,
where he sat at the piano, and Mr. Gardenell
knocked at Olive's door.

" Oi papa ! is it you ? Come in. Did mamma
tell you about our nice little plan ? I am to em-

\ i

•31

lOUSED.

?" inquiringly,
if Herbert has (

hey need him in

he drew her to his
low ; that is how

ouable?"
rbert, I must go.
e ready."

said. •' I will go
r our departure."
Ray," and as the
ities into a valise
1 the parlor below,
ind Mr. Gardenell

le in. Did mamma
jlan 1 I am to em-

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

299

broider Herbert a pa'r of slippers all myself for
his birthday- a beautiful pair, with great pan-
sies on the toes." This was Olive's little com-
promise with her conscience ; Herbert must feel
so hurt at her long silence.

Her father took her on his knee. "I have
had news from Herbert," he said. And then
she noticed his gravity, and that something in
his voice.

"Papa, what has happened to Hervie — my
Hervie } O, papa ! is he dead } "

" No, thank God, not dead. Olive, can you be
brave for my sake and mamma's — for Hervie's
sake .' Ray is not strong yet, and somebody
must care for him and keep him cheerful while

mamma and I go to H . Is my girlie brave

enough to read this telegram > "

He held it under the gaslight while she read
it with compressed lips and dry eyes.

" Papa, go quickly," she said. " O, papa ! go
to him now. I will take care of Ray — of every-
thing; you and mamma go."

"And have you no message for him ? " Her
father had expected she would beg to go, too ;
she surprised him.

" Papa, I love him, love him, love him. Papa,
I shall die if he dies, and I deserve it."

" My darling, no, you will not die, but you will
pray, you and Ray ; ask that his precious life be
spared." Then Mr. Gardenell kibsed fondly his
little daughter's ''aee and hastened to order the
carriage.

How dreadful were the weeks that followed !
Telegrams came often during the first two days.
"He was unconscious." "Prof. Germaine had
some hope for him." "Still unconscious," etc.
Then came a letter from mamma.

A not uncommon story it related. This pre-
cious life was almost lost by the daring of a
schoolmate who recklessly ventured on the ice
before it was fit for skating. Herbert saw him
go under and plunged in after. Waiting hands
seized the frightened youth as his rescuer
brought him to the surface, but by some chance

for him?" Her
I beg to go, too ;

love him.
erve it."
: die, but you will
is precious life be
kibsed fondly his
ened to order the

k
31

cs that followed !

he first two days.

i. Germaine had

nconscious," etc.

ima.

lated. This pre-
the daring of a

tured on the ice

Herbert saw him

Waiting hands

as his rescuer

by some chance

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

301

Herbert slipped back under the ice, hitting his
head, it was feared, in some way.

Only Stanton Cartwright's prompt action
saved their dear one from immediate death
Crawling over the rotten ice and placing boards
where he could grasp them, he dived down again
and yet again, coming to the surface for breath,
while his eager mates cheered him on.

His efforts were crowned with success, and he
never left his friend's bedside until his parents
arrived. Herbert was still unconscious ; his
brain was the seat of trouble, but the physicians
now saw favorable symptoms. If he recovered,
it would be slowly, and a long time before he
could be removed to his home. They must be
patient and pray much. So the days dragged
on.

What days these were to Olive ! How filled
with self-upbraidings and anguish. Conscience,
fully roused, gave her no rest. Her dry eyes
refused to weep, and had it not been for Ray
what would she have done ?

\ i

■ !

302

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

It seemed strange to be clinging in this
fashion to Ray, but he had grown so suddenly
brave and helpful and strong. To his side he
drew her, in his arms he rocked her — great girl
as she now was — beside her he knelt and
prayed ; for, as he said, and she assented, " God
is our only help."

" I can't ask Him, but you can," she said one

day.

"But you must, Olive. The promise is to

two who agree."

"Oh! I agree, I agree," she said, and then
he urged salvation upon her. She opened to him
her heart and how she had resisted the Spirit ;
he understood that. "But you do not resist
longer; you do give yourself to God now?" he
asked eagerly.

"I must," she answered. "If he spares
Hervie, I will love Him forever, and if — if
Hervie dies, I must go where he is ; I could not
live an eternity without him. But I fear God
does not want such love as that."

)USED.

linging in this
:)wn so suddenly
To his side he
her — great girl
■ he knelt and
! assented, " God

an," she said one

le promise is to

le said, and then
>he opened to him
iisted the Spirit ;
ou do not resist
to God now?" he

" If he spares
rever, and if=— if
he is ; I could not

But I fear God
hat."

CONSCIENCE FULLY ROUSED.

303

" God puts up with so little till we can give
him more," said Ray. " He is different from
us, Princess. He will fill your heart full if you
only give him a chance. You see I know, for
no one could bring less to him than I did, and I
feel sure he will spare Herbert to us."

So, strangely enough, not Herbert but Ray
was privileged to bring Olive to Ciirist.

Yes, Herbert would live; the news came
one day in the shape of Prof. Germaine him-
self, with the happiest of faces and the light-
est of hearts.

"We all have reason to praise God," he said
fervently, kissing Olive's cheek, " for he only is
to be praised. I'd give more for an ounce of
prayer than pounds of medicine in a case like
this, and you have helped on the cure. Make
haste and grow your roses. Blossom, before
Herbert misses them."

How sweet to have them all home again —
papa and mamma and Herbert. Yes ; and
Stanton, too. He came for a few days, and

everybody vied with each other in their atten-
tions to him. He told Olive, as she pinned a
gay little bouquet from the conservatory in his
button-hole one day, that he " feared he would
be quite spoiled, but he enjoyed it immensely."
And there isn't a doubt that he did.

Rapidly Herbert recovered now that he had
begun, and it was joy enough for Olive just to
sit by his side and hear his voice. How could
she help loving God now.^ She felt she did
with all her soul, and her first words to Herbert
after his coming home were : —

" I've decided, and it's beautiful to belong to
Jesus. Oh ! Hervie darling, if you will only
forgive me."

>USED.

in their atteh-
is she pinned a
servatory in his
eared he would
1 it immensely."
iid.

ow that he had
)r Olive just to
ce. How could
le felt she did
ords to Herbert

ul to belong to
you will only

CHAPTER XXIV.

A WORTHY RESUME.

"The sweetest lives are those to duty wed,

Where deeds both great and small,
Are close-knit strands of one unbroken'thread,
When love ennobles all."

ANOTHER peep into the Gardenell man-
sion and then good-by.
There are many changes, first of which is
Mary Ann McAloon no longer presides over
the nursery. Truth to tell, there is no longer a
nursery or a Mary Ann McAloon. Harry and
Eddie are anything but babies, and their nurse
has changed her name and vocation. It hap-
pened on this" wise : —

" Shure, Mrs. Gardenell, it's yerself knows I
love you all," she began one day. " But there's
Dick the coachman ; he's that anxious about

30s

lil

306

A WORTHY RESUME.

being married, I don't see as there's any getting

rid of him."

" Why, Mary Ann, what do you mean ? You
can't think of marrying a man to get rid of
him?" replied Mrs. Gardenell in feigned as-
tonishment.

" Well, the children, God bless them ! is well
up. Mis', and me work's clane gone from me
hands. What is there left for me to do ? "

" You will always be loved and needed here,
dear girl," replied her mistress, smiling. " You
have been faithful to us, Mary Ann, and as the
children grow up their respect for you will in-
crease. You are just like one of the family.
Don't leave me unless your heart really leads

you away."

" Me heart is it ? Me heart was all gone to
the babbies, mum, long ago, and little of it'll be
left for anybody, I'm thinking. But Dick, he's
willin' to take it, such as it is, and he needs a

home."

"That's a poor reason for marrying a man,

lere's any getting

you mean ? You
an to get rid of
11 in feigned as-

ess them ! is well
e gone from me
me to do ? "
and needed here,
i, smiling. " You
y Ann, and as the
:t for you will in-
ne of the family,
heart really leads

rt was all gone to
ind little of it'll be
g. But Dick, he's
is, and he needs a

• marrying a man,

A WORTHY RESUME.

307

Mary Ann. If he loves you and offers you a
home, you ought to be able to return love for
love, to deal honestly."

" And whoiver said I didn't love him, now ;
To be sure the heart is all hacked like and de-
stroyed with the children, but that's neither here
or there ; if the bit that's left su;»;s him, who's
to blame ? "

Yensie smiled ; she saw her maid's heart was
really interested, and reluctantly she parted with
her. The children made a great fuss over the
wedding, and each gave her a valuable present,
and she wept bitterly in parting with her " dar-
lints." "Though, to be shure," she said, "it's
not a rod off I'm goin', and me house is always
your own, me pets, as I'm well shure there'll be
always a place for me in the big house, if the
worst comes to the worst."

The worst has not come to the worst yet, and
Dick and Mary Ann still occupy their snug
cottage.

The nursery became a sort of play and study

W,imt.am-

immmm

i i

■IT

308

A WORTHY RESUME.

room after her departure, and the old study room
was turned in time into a " scientific curiosity-
shop," to quote Ray, through the untiring efforts
of Harry who was still devoted to the pursuit of
knowledge. He had grown to be a tall, fine fel-
low, much resembling Herbert at his age, and
his father greatly enjoyed his idiosyncrasies.

Eddie, more slender and rarely beautiful, was
now quite a lad, and as devoted to his mother
and sister as they could wish. Olive was exceed-
ingly proud of him, and his voice was sweet and
rare as her own.

Herbert Gardenell's one choice girlie was
quite a young lady, too — all of nineteen ; and as
intelligent and beautiful and helpful as her papa's
greatest hope for her had pictured. He would
hardly know how to live without her constant
devotion and help ; and mamma, well, she called
this maiden her "fair right-hand."

Yes, Olive was fair to look upon, and one of
the sunniest,merriest girls that ever made home
happy. Copying sermons and manuscript, mak-

■T3*' — 5!

A WORTHY RESUME.

309

e old study room
entific curiosity-
2 untiring efforts
to the pursuit of
)e a tall, fine fel-
at his age, and
iosyncrasies.
ly beautiful, was
d to his mother
)live was exceed-
e was sweet and

oice girlie was
nineteen ; and as
)ful as her papa's
ired. He would
ut her constant
, well, she called
1."

jpon, and one of
ever made home
nanuscript, mak-

ing muffins and cake, amusing the children at
some entertainment, or leading in some prayer
meeting, she was always the same cheerful,
bright self, and the old parishioners, to whom
their pastor was the sum of all excellence, de-
clared she favored him more than any of his
children.

She was very popular, and the center of every
merry group ; her Sabbath-school class — six
bright boys — quoted her freely, and her
brothers were vain and her papa glad when her
sweet voice rang out God's praises every Sab-
bath morning. That voice was her choice gift,
and she had dedicated it to her King and sung
many a soul into his kingdom, and many a saint
over the river in mission room and lowly cham-
ber where papa and mamma ministered.

Of Ray she was very proud. Her tall, elegant,
handsome brother, who during vacation some-
times preached for papa. Yet her heart clung
most fondly to Herbert still, her olden comforter
and guide, who was head and shoulders spiritu-

3IO

A WORTHY RESUME.

ally and intellectually, above most of the men
about him.

Yes, Ray was to be a minister ; or, as he put
it, a " parson." The love of Christ had given
the needed impetus to his life, and month by
month, year after year, his parents saw him de-
velop in grace, manliness, scholarship — in all
they could desire. And one day, covered with
honors, the handsomest, most brilliant of his
class, Raymond Gardenell received the congratu-
lations of his teachers and friends and stepped
out to take his place in the arena of life.

His call to the pulpit had come first, however.
Clear, unmistakable, he was satisfied Jesus said
to him "«• to his apostle of old, "Go preach."
And row he had been invited to take charge of
a church ; yes, several of them, and had well-
nigh decided which was the field he was to
occupy. He seemed the only person surprised
at the situation.

" Me a parson, after all ; can you credit your
senses, Herv ? I wonder if it is myself or that

1)!

•%^

most of the men

ster ; or, as he put
Christ had given
fc, and month by
irents saw him dc-
holarship — in all
day, covered with
it brilliant of his
ived the congratu-
iends and stepped
:na of life,
ime first, however,
itisfied Jesus said
old, "Go preach."
to take charge of
sm, and had well-
! field he was to
^ person surprised

.n you credit your
t is myself or that

A WORTHY RESUME.

darky sailor-boy they want ? " for Ray was as
mirth-loving and happy as ever.

There was a tap at mother's door early one
morning. " I know I can come in," said some
one, following his rap immediately. " Mamma,
can you spare me a few days to run down into
Maine ? "

" Maine I " cried mamma, in well-feigned sur-
prise. " I did. ,'t know you had a call from
Maine."

"A very urgent one," laughed her son, taking
her right into his arms as he seated himself.
"Now, precious mamma, stop teasing and tell
me you think Gatty Cartwright the dearest girl
in the world, and the one of all others suited
to be your Ray's wife."

" Gatty is a precious little woman. I love her
dearly, Ray."

" Of course you do ; every one loves her,"
replied the young man exultantly. "But I
wanted to hear you say so, and go to her with
your spoken blessing."

312

A WORTHY RESUME.

"Are you quite sure it is Number Two and
'lot Number One she prefers ? " asked the lady
mischievously.

"Absolutely, mother mine. She likes Her-
bert, but she makes eyes at me."

" O, Ray, Ray ! " laughed his mother. " Im-
agine our dear lady-like Gatty ' making eyes ' at
my big boy."

"Well, I only judged by their effect on that
little spot under my vest, mamma. Tell me you
think her an angel."

" She is quite good enough for you, if not an
angel," said mother gayly. " Have you spoken
to your father ? "

" Not yet. Little need ; he treats no other
girl but Olive as he does Gatty. When dhe was
here 'ast I heard him call her 'daughter' so ten-
derly that her eyes filled with tears, and she
kissed his hand. Then he stooped and said, ' I
would rather have it on iny iij-s,' and she put it
there. I broke the tenth commandment on the
spot."

UME.

Number Two and
? " asked the lady

, She likes Her-

le."

his mother. "Im-

I ' making eyes ' at

lieir effect on that
nma. Tell me you

for you, if not an
' Have you spoken

he treats no other
ty. When she was
'daughter' so ten-
ith tears, and she
ooped and said, ' I
\{\.i' and she put it
mmandment on the

A WORTHY RESUME,

313

"And the young lady herself?" questioned
mamma, bound to tease the tall boy who took
so much for granted.

"I am a Yankee," he laughed. "You forget
I was born in Vermont. A big ' guess ' makes
me quite comfortable ; but with your consent I
will make it assurance before to-morrow night."

From his mother's chamber to the study,
thence to the breakfast-room, where his brother
waited and read.

" Herv, you can't have Gatty Cartwright ; she
likes me best," said the irrepressible, opening
fire.

" Poor me ! " a little shi <% of two broad
shoulders.

" I'm sorry for you, my boy, but you are cut
out for a bachelor," continued Raymond.

" SelC-evideni fact," two blue eyes flashing
up from the absorbing page before them.

" Bother that book ! you are wedded to letters.
Herv, I'm bound for Maine this morning," were
his next words.

314

A WORTHY RESUME.

■I

! il
i I!

" And I'm bound to wish you good speed and
all progress in your main project, my young
brother."

" Now that's something like ; but, Herv, you
are wise : what if the young lady refuses me
with thanks?"

" You must refuse the thanks and accept the
young lady without them."

" Herbert, I admire you ! what a cool lover
you would make."

" Of another's maiden ? I should hope so."

" And you can really see me carry off Gatty
Cartwright without an inward protest ? "

" I protest, my boy, that I don't see anything
of the kind, but my faith in your ability is
unbounded. Good-morning, father ! "

What a merry group gathered about that
breakfast-table that morning ! Immediately after
the blessing was said Olive commenced, " Papa,
what are we to do with the young parson
meandering about the corridors before daylight
and disturbing honest folks in their sleep .' "

( !

-4«

UME.

ou good speed and
iroject, my young

e ; 'but, Herv, you
; lady refuses me

ks and accept the

what a cool lover

should hope so."
ne carry off Gatty
protest ? "
lon't see anything
in your ability is
ither ! "

lered about that
Immediately after
ommenced, " Papa,
le young parson
rs before daylight
n their sleep?"

A WORTHY RESUME.

315

Raymond sent a sly glance from under his
lashes in the direction of his sister as he helped
himself to a muffin. " For instance, honest
folks who are sitting at their windows writing
before daylight — wasn't that your expression.
Sis ? — by the help of the morning star."

Olive blushed crimson and exchanged glances
with Herbert. He, and he only, knew she was
sending forth her first literary venture.

" Fie, Ray," she said, rallying. " You are a
spy as well as a somnambulist."

"Not guilty on either charge," replied her
brother good-naturedly. " I could not help see-
ing you. Princess, as I leaned from my window.
I appeal to mamma if she was not up and
dressed when I invaded her room, and I heard
papa descend some time before."

Poor papa ! " Olive patted the hand near her
affectionately. " It is nothing uncommon for
his sleep to be disturbed. See what is ahead
of you, my young parson, and gamer your
strength. Who needed you this morning, papa ? "

3i6

A WORTHY RESUME,

" Our faithful Mapes ! "
'• No ! How sorry Achor will feel"
" Yes ; he left a message for her."
"And he was ready; that always comforts
your heart. What would they all do without

you ? " fondly..

-Get some one younger and better, perhaps.
Mr. Halladay is already a power among them;
I am sorry he thinks of going away."

" Papa, I've been thinking that would be an
excellent field for Herbert. Just the prepara-
tion he will need before entering his broader
field. It would be so nice to have him near us
while we can Africa is so far away ! " with a
sigh and a love-glance at her brother.

-I had thought of that, too, Olive. If it is
God's way. I should like it. If he has his way
I shall not be much disappointed. J am at-
tached to the Mission, and its old workers love
me. Dear old Mapes had Mr. Halladay and
didn't need me, but he thought he did."

"And of course he did. No one could fill

I '

-f'tsSaHi^^

CSUME.

r will feel."

for her."
hat always comforts

they all do without

and better, perhaps.

power among them;
ing away."

ing that would be an
rt. Just the prepara-

entering his broader
;e to have him near us

so far away ! " with a
ler brother.

at, too, Olive. If it is
it. If he has his way
isappointed. I am at-
nd its old workers love
dad Mr. Halladay and
lought he did."
did. No one could fill

A WORTHY RESUME.

317

your place, papa, not even your worthy son,"
with a naughty little glance at Raymond. " But
then, he'll never try. He doesn't take to early
rising ; that is why I presage some pending evil
from this morning's occurrence."

" Don't presage. Princess ; it isn't healthy.
Every morning does not find me en route for
Maine."

" For Maine ! " incredulously.

" Yes, sister mine ; don't you wish you were
going, too } I do. I'll take you if papa says so."

"Perhaps somebody else would have a say
in the matter."

" Certainly ; but you couldn't say anything
but Yes."

"Indeed ! I'd say No decidedly."

" And confirm your reputation for contrariety.
What message shall I take from you to Stanton }
You knew he is supplying now only five miles
from horae."

Olive's face grew rosy, but she said, " I have
no message."

mtmam

318

A WORTHY RESUME

Ray dropped his fork in assumed consterna-
tion.

" Is it possible you have answered already
that half-quire letter that arrived yesterday?
My dear sister, you might have saved postage
and made use of the little vest-pocket next to
my heart."

" Your heart already carries all it will be able
to deliver safely, I fear," was the laughing
retort.

" My sister's interests will always be as sacred
as my own," laying his hand mockingly on his
heart. "Mamma, what delicious muffins your
daughter makes; one positively grows light-
hearted in spite of possibilities ; I'm a good
mind to carry one to Stanton."

" Ray," said his mother, " when will you get
over your teasing propensities } "

" When Olive does ; apply to her for informa-
tion, mamma."

"You are a fortunate boy, Raymond. Not
every young man starts out on such an errand

RESUME.

n assumed consterna-

ave answered already
It arrived yesterday ?
t have saved postage
le vest-pocket next to

rries all it will be able
," was the laughing

vill always be as sacred

land mockingly on his

delicious muffins your

jositively grows ligbt-

iibilities ; I'm a good

iton."

r, " when will you get

sities ? "

)ply to her for informa-

! boy, Raymond. Not
out on such an errand

A WORTHY RESUME.

319

as yours to-day, with so light and assured a
heart."

" Not every young man is after so sweet and
sensible a young lady."

" Indeed, she proves it, my brother," inter-
jected Olive slyly, while Mr. Gardenell contin-
ued : —

Her sweetness would hardly insure her
against mistakes. All honor to her faithful and
wise mother."

" I only know one better," answered Ray, kiss-
ing the face beside him. "And Stanton is a
royal fellow. I have only one fear, and that is,
that when he reaches missionary age we will
lose him, unless," glancing at his sister, " unless
some one is able to convert him over to home
missions."

" Imagine," said Miso Olive, her blue eyes
flashing ominously, " imagine any one thinking
herself able to turn Stanton Cartwright from
what he considers God's call. And imagine any
one mean enough to try it."

'««ao«»,.

320

A WORTHY RESUME.

" Spoken like Olive Gardenell," cried Ray-
mond, with real admiration. " Father, you will
never need to be ashamed of your daughter or
the one she brings you for your blessing."

Olive laughed. " Since Herbert refuses to be
anything but a bachelor," she said gaily, " what
is left for me but to share his fate ? ' I'll never
forsake Micawber.' "

" Your hand on that, little sister." She laid
her palm unhesitatingly in the one extended for
it. " Bear witness, father, mother, all," Herbert
said as he pressed it to his lips, and added softly
for Olive's ears alone, " This may mean another
for Africa."

Olive walked to the depot with Ray, kissed
him good-by, and said " Good luck." But there
was a great lump in her throat which her brother
discovered and tried to dissipate by his added
gayety and tenderness.

" Precious little Princess, the very best sister
boy ever h^d," he said, as he pressed his lips to

UME.

enell," cried Ray-
" Father, you will
f your daughter or
>ur blessing,"
erbert refuses to be
e said gaily, " what
s fate ? ' I'll never

sister." She laid
le one extended for
lother, all," Herbert
ips, and added softly
5 may mean another

ot with Ray, kissed
)d luck." 3ut there
)at which her brother
isipate by his added

, the very best sister
le pressed his lips to

A WORTHY RESUME.

321

hers ; and she watched the train out, waving her
handkerchief, and turned up the street fighting
back the tears.

She stopped suddenly half-way home and
turned toward the old schoolhouse, a minute
later entering the sitting-room of the little yel-
low ell.

There sat Miss Jennie Ralison. " How fresh
you look, my dear," the lady sait^ as Olive drew
a hassock to her feet and droppcv' her head in
her lap.

How wrinkled and feeble her dear Je had
grown ; the giri noticed it as never before as she
looked up to the placid face.

"Everything changes," she broke out tem-
pestuously. " Why can't we keep things as they
are always — bright and fresh and ours ? I'll be
old and wrinkled some day. Dear Je, I feel dis-
mal to-day."

That isn't like our sunshine," commented
Miss Jennie.
"No, it isn't. But ~ but Ray has gone to

322

A WORTHY RESUME.

get him a wife," and down went the brown head
with a little sob. What could her friend do but
caress the dusky crown, and wait till the shower
was over ?

" 'Tis a wicked little weep and you ought to
scold me," said the wayward child, raising her
face. " I love Gatty, oh ! so much ; and it
would be dreadful for Ray to look at another
girl, but — but — oh, dear ! one does like to own
their friends and keep them for just their own,"
with another wee storm.

Ju«' then some one stepped through the
kitchen and halted at the sitting-room door.
Miss Johanna had been marketing. Old as she
was she yet superintended all of their affairs,
and looked younger now than her sister. She
stopped in a sort of dismay, bonnet and shawl
still on, at sight of the little figure bowed at her
sister's feet.

" What > Tommy isn't crying ! " she said, in
such real astonishment, that Olive laughed in
spite of her blues.

RESUME.

rn went the brown head
could her friend do but
and wait till the shower

weep and you ought to
^ward child, raising her
oh ! so much; and it

to look at another
! one does like to own

for just their own,"

A WORTHY RESUME.

323

Ray

lem

; stepped through the
the sitting-room door,
marketing. Old as she
ided all of their affairs,
(W than her sister. She
ismay, bonnet and shawl
little figure bowed at her

n't crying ! " she said, in
it, that Olive laughed in

" Only a miserable little selfish drizzle, Miss
Jo," she said penitently. "I'm dreadfully
ashamt-'d of myself. Ray has gone to Main-; for
a wife, and I wish you'd tell me how mean I
am.

"Miss Gatty isn't going to carry Raymond
off, is she } " inquired Miss Jo innocently. " I
thought he was the thief in this case. These
things are much as we take them. Tommy ; ad-
dition or subtraction. I always did like addition
best. Two girls are none too many in a family,
and it wouldn't be good for Mr. Ray to go off
preaching alone. You can't well go with him,
for then what would father and mother and Her-
bert do, I wonder ? "

" I will never ask them. Miss Jo, you are
splendid. I'm as hungry as a bear ; I couldn't
cat my breakfast. What have you got in this
house that is nice ? " getting up and shaking her-
self. " I feel better. I wonder which did the
most good, your philosophy or my showers ? "
"Both," answered Mi3S Jo sc tentiously.

^!i

P '

324

A WORTHY RESUME.

••What's in had better come out, and there's
nothing healthier than showers in spring, or
more natural, cither. Don't you begin to stifle
your feelings and brood over things until they
become mountains to crush you. Jennie, Tommy
must have a gingerbread horse. Where is that
one we baked yesterday ? There," as it was pro-
duced, •' I always believed advice and medicine
belonged together. There's an old maid's rem-
edy, sweets for the young."

Then Olive's laugh rang merrily through the
little house. Hers was such a musical laugh —
like her mamma's, Papa Gardenell said, and sug-
gestive of a spring full of robins. She said be-
tween her laughing, " I must bite," and off she
nipped the tail, with a doleful little sigh as she
remembered Ray always did that in other days,
••I suppose I'm robbing some poor child, but
I can't help it. Miss Jo, what a comfort you

are."

"Prof. Germaine," said this same young lady
ten minutes later, as that gentleman drew his

RESUME.

A WORTHY RESUME.

325

come out, and there's
showers in spring, or
on't you begin to stifle
over things until they
ish you. Jennie, Tommy
J horse. Where is that
' There," as it was pro-
ed advice and medicine
ere's an old maid's rem-

ang merrily through the

such a musical laugh —

Gardenell said, and sug-

of robins. She said be-

must bite," and off she

doleful little sigh as she

s did that in other days,

ing some poor child, but

Jo, what a comfort you

lid this same young lady
that gentleman drew his

carriage to the curb to greet her, "don't you
want to drive me home this beautiful morning?"
"I'm aching for the privilege, my dear, ' smil-
ing, as he helped her to the seat beside him.
" Hut seeing you are suffering from your old
c()mi)laint, chronic cheerfulness, I would like to
borrow you awhile first, to call with mc on a
lady who has an acute attack of the blues."

"Poor dear," ighed Olive, "I pity her, but I
have an infallible cure."

"Ah! tried it yourself, I suppose," answered
the gentleman quizzically.
"Yes, sir; and this very morning."
An amused smile flitted over the professor's
face. " Olive, you ought to thank the Lord for
your heritage of pure, strong, healthful life from
a godly father and mother."
" I do."

" That much advantage the poorest Christian
man or woman has over the wealthiest unbe-
liever, his faith grows courage and cheerfulness,
and his offspring reap the benefit. This lady

lit

11)1 !

326

A WORTHY RESUME.

whcin we are to visit has 'blue' blood in the
fullest sense of the word. I suppose you ad\^er-
tise this nostrum of yours like other quackeries,
' no cure, no pay .' ' "

" No pay indeed ! Prof. Germaine, did I not
tell you the cure was positive } I'm half a mind
to be offended. You have no faith in me ; you
call me a quack."

" On the contrary, my dear, I believe you are
just the medicine I am after, and the best thing
possible I can carry my friend."

" That's because I swallowed my own remedy
twenty minutes ago."

" I grow curious ; this cure-all is " —

" An old maid and a gingerbread horse."

IV.

I'S i

aa..

««M»w»«ae«sssw?*:i*«*w-*'««"'-«^*»«'*******

! ■ I I.

In 1833 the wife of Horace Mann speni the
winter in Cuba under circumstances extremely
favorable to an intimate knowledge of life tliure ;
but was under a double restraint from nialcing a
boolc, a close and sympathetic friendship and nu-
merous hospitalities.

• Nevertheless the book was written, but kept for
fifty years till the death of the lost of her friends
who figured in it

JimnitA, a Itntnanoc of Koftl Tlfo In Cuba Fifty Tears A|ki.
By Mnry Mann (ivifo of llori\<n M:uui, sister of Mri. Ilaw-
tliorno and of tlip venerable Klizabelh I'cabndy). 436 pugci.
Uiuo, cloth, $1.50.

It Is less a romance than a fragment of history;
less a histor}' than an impassioned picture of hu-
man life above and below incredible greed and
cruelty; less a picture tlian protest. Ami, coming
at this lat« day when freedom has blessed both
slave and master, it gives a new zest to liberty.
It draws the reader from page to page not so
much by the arts and resources of Action as by an
overmastering sympathy.

It is not another Uncle Tom's Cabin; and the
times are kindlier. But the book must be read.

A writer who keeps his name to himself had
been telling his children what lieraUlry had to do
with our stars and stripes, with the seals of the
United States, and of the States themselves. " It
occurred to him " — what are we not indebted to
children for? — " that heraldry, brilliant witli mem-
ories of tournaments and hard-won victories,
might interest " other youngsters. Hence a play-
ful book of careful enough research into heraldic
history, legends, usages, meanings, proprieties.

Dame Heraldry IIT illustratioDs, 271 pages. 8to, doth,
IS.60.

J.i

; ,;:i 1

|i !

There is nothing more refreshing to pick np In
odd minutes than a hrlglit collection out of the
poetry of all time of the >)rlghtest on almost no
matter what subject, even the weather.

flirough tlio Year with tlio Poets, edited by Oscar Fay
Adams. A volume n mouth of about 140 pag:c8 each, with
ample indices. 16mo, cloth, 75 cents each ; parti-colorcd cloth,
91.00.

And dainty book-making has much to do with
the pleasure of scidppy reading.

New Every Morning, a year-book for girls, by
Annie H. Uyder, is a helpful thought or two, out of
current writers mainly, for every day in the year ;
not religious, but chosen for serious aptitude to
the state of things in the world we live in. 196
pages. Square Klmo, clotli. <]il.00

Notable Prayers of Cliristian Ilisiory. By Hez-
ekiah Buttcrworth. So far as we k.iow, there lo
no other i)ook in wliich are gathered tlie notable
prayers of dcvoui. men of all times with tlieir
biograpliical and liistorical connections. 304 pages.
l6mo, cloth, 1.00.

Let not the bookseller venture a word on sc al)-
Btruse a subject as Browning.

Christmas Eve and Easter Day, and Other Poems. By
Robert Browning. Introduction by W. J. llolfo. The Theory
of Robert Browninjf ponccrning Personal Immortality by
ITcloiseEdwinallei-sej. With notes. 175pag!». 16mo, cloth,
75 cents.

For Browning Classes and Clubs. The text is
In very generous type.

Faith and Action is an F. D. Maurice Anthology.
Preface by Pliillips Brooks. The subjects are:
Life, Men, Reforms, Books, Art, Duty, A-spira-
tion, Faith. 209 pages. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

• I I

'\ t

eshing to pick up In
oUection out of the
ghtest on almost no
I weather.

ta, edited by Oscar F»y
ut 140 pages cacli, with
each ; purti-colorcd clotha

las much to do with

ng-

ir-book for girls, by
liought or two, out of
/my (Jay in the year;
serious aptitude to
)rld we live in. 196
jil.OO

in lllsiory. By Hez-
is wt) k.iow, there io
fathered the notable
bU times with tlieir
inectlous. 301 pages.

ure a word on sc alj-

nnd Other Pocini. By
W. J. Itolfc. Tlie Theory
Personal Immortality by
I. 175 pag 'S. 16mo, cloth,

[ Clubs. The text is

. Maurice Anthology.
The subjects are:
, Art, Duty, Aspira-
10, cloth, $1.00.

Quite a new sort of history. Scliool days oyer,
four girl friends return to their homes and life
begins. As often hapiMJUs, life Is not as they
picture it. What It was for tlic four and how
they met it you shall read In the quiet book.

By ChriBtiua Uoodwiu. 196 pages.

After School Days.
Umo, doth, tl.OO.

It Is a comforting fact a liionsand times that
nobody knows, to be sure of it, what Is good for
him or her. Disappointments are often shorn of
their bitterness by the remembrance of It. Often
what we look forward to, hope for, strive i'or,
make ourselves anxious about, turns out to be of
no particular value ; and wl at we fear and strive
against turns out good fortune. Itorely is this
practical wl.ndora made so sure as in this whole-
some history out of the stuff that dreams are
made of.

A practical help for a girl to surround herself
with pleasant things without much shopping. The
book Is mainly llllcd with ways to exercise taste
on waste or plcked-up things for use with an eye
to decoration as well.

For n Girl's Room. By Some Friends of the OirU. 236
pages. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

A friendly sort of a book to fill odd nlnutes,
whether at home or out, for herself or another.
By no means on " fancy-work " — not all work —
Chapter XXI Is How to Tame Bh-ds and XXV la
What to Do !n Emergencies.

! I

1 1

When a novel-writer makes a girl so nncon-
fclously bright and catching In the very first chap-
ter he must not complain If the reader mUes her
up in a plot of his own.

Romano* of » Letter. By LoweU Cho«e. SSflpigen. Umo,
dotb, $^.2i.

But we are not going to spoil a good story by
letting the least of Its secrets out.

Whether city boys go to the country or country
boys go to the city wonderful things are experi-
enced.

BoyiofCaryFann. By Minn* Caroline Smith. 313 page*.
12mo, cloth, (1.25.

The story lies between Chicago and Iowa.
The boys get mixed up variously. It is a Sunday
School book to this extent : The boys are good
boys and the girls are good girls ; the seeing and
doing are all well meant if they are a trifle ad-
venturous here and there.

The Spare Minute strles of anthologies Is en-
riched by one from Ruskln.

Thoughts of Beauty from John Biukin. By Bow Porter.
186 pages. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.

•' I have confined myscJ to his discoveries on
Nature, Morals and Religion: tratherlng for your
perusal revelations of the blessed wonders of sky
and cloud, mountain and rock, trees, mosses, and
the green grass, birds of the air, and flowers, and
the marvelous coloring all these display which In
beauty of hue and delicacy of tinting as far out-
pass the works of man as the heavens are higher
tbau the e&rUi."— From The lutroduiUion.

es a girl bo nncon*
n the very first chap-
he reader mixes her

:nu»te. SMpkge*. Umo,

poll A good Btory by

3 out.

le country or country
ul things are esperl-

;aroItnc Smith.

Chicago and Iowa.
)U9ly. It Is a Sunday
: The boys are good
girls; the seeing and
they are a trifle ad-

} of anthologies Is en-
Biukin. By Eo«e Porter.

to his discoveries on
n : catherlng for your
blessed wonders of sky
)clc, trees, mosses, and
le air, and flowers, and
these display which in
y of tinting as far out-
the heavens are higher
« Introduction.

Dorothy Thorn is a flrst-class Amerl«an ncvel.

By which we do not mean to dcchirc the author
a Walter Scott on his second book. The world
may take its time and rate him as it will; but
Dorothy Thorn we are surt- of.

It begins as life begins, wherever we pick up
the threads of it, human. It goes on the same.
The tale Is a sketch of not-surprising events.
There is not an incident told In the book that does
not seem tame in the telling, tame with the unro-
mantic commonplace of life ; and yet there Is not
a spot where the people forget their parts or hesi-
tate for words or foil to suit the action to them :
and, however easy the pages, the chapters move
with cunsclous strength; and the whole is one;
it falls with the force of a blow.

There Is a moral to Dorothy Thorn ; there are
more than one. She Is made to live for something
beyond the reader's diversion. What that purpose
is, or what those purposes are, is not set down In
the book ; but nobody reads and asks. It is high
in the sense of being good ; and good In the sense
of being succc.48ful. It touches the question of
questions, work ; and the wisdom comes from two
women who do not work. It touches never so
lightly the rising question, the sphere of woman —
the wisdom on that is said in a dozen words by a
woman who has never given her "spiiere" an
anxious thought.

Dorotliy Thorn of Thoniton. By Jullim Wwtli. 276 page<t.
Umo, clotli, (I1.2S.

There is hardly a less promising condition out
of which to write a novel than having a hobl)y to
ride ; and of hobbles what can be less picturesque
than the question how we who work and we who
direct ate going to get on together hai-moniouslyf

But, when a novel Is full of every lii{?h natlsf ac-
tion, refreshment ami gratillcatlon In spite of Its
cirrylnj? freight of practical wisdom, or rather,
when wlsdo n itself U a part <if tlie feast ami the
flow of soul s all thcmor<! refreshing for it, then,
wc take it, that novel stands apart from the novels
of any time or .oiintry. And such Is tlio Dorothy
Thorn of JiiUin Warth. Not the loftlest'ftlght of
imagination; simple in ph,t — irdecd there Is no
plot — the passing of time lets the story Ro on,
and It goes the easy way ; and, when It Is done, it
Is done. We close the booit with r.griit. Tho
cxaltAtion has passed; and we are again in the
world wliere wisdom is tame and common tilings
bereft of their dignity. But we have sat witli the
gods and the nectar was heavenly.

Stories have not run ont; but we often think,
as wc read somn quaint and simple tale that be-
longs to another time or people, " how good the
stories were in those days! " or " they are better
story-tellers than ours!" Tlie truth is, good
stories are rare and live forever. To-day may
lose them ; to-morrow finds them.

SwinK StoricK for ClilMren and for tliosc who Love Children.
From the (icrmaii of Mftrliiine Spyri by Lucy Wlieclock. 214
pa(((^s. I2ino, vlolii, $1.00.

So true to child life and family life, they belong
to us IS truly as to the Swiss mountaineers.

Some of these have delighted English cars
before.

':^

)f every Wjxh «atlsfac-
llcatlon In spite of Its
al wisdom, or rather,
■t of tlic feast ami the

rcfreshins for '•■> '■^c"'
i apart from the novels
lid Huch Is tlio Dorothy
ot tlie loftiest ftlght of
t — indeed there Is no
lets the story go on,
ind, when It Is done, it
wit with r.Rret. The
d we are again in the
ne and common things
It we have sat wlUi the
avenly.

;; but we often think,
id simple tale that lie-
;)eople, " how good the
or " they are better
Tlie truth is, good
forever. To-day may
s them.

for those who Love Children,
lyri by Lury Wlirclock. 2U

family life, they belong
rlss mountaineers,
[telighted English cars

As a people we hold opinious concerning th*
rest of the world notoriously inccmplet*. A boolc
that makes us familiar with life abroad as it
really is Is a public beueflt as well as a source of
pleasure.

The common saying goes : there is nothing like
travel for opening one's eyes to the size of tlio
world, to the diversity of ways of thinking and
living, and to the very little cliancc of our having
hit on the true interpretation of evcrytliing; no
education Is so broadening. liut it is true that
few have the aptness at seeing stiange things in a
way to ceinprelicnd tlicm; and to sec und niis<
judge is almost worse tiiau not to sec at all.

There is no preparation for travel or substiiiite
for it that goes so far towards mending our recep-
tivity or ignorance as an agreeable book that
really takes one into the whole of ttic life one pro-
poses to study. There is au excellent one out just
now.

Life Aw'^g the Oi-rmsns. By Emiua Louisa Parry. 340
ptgea. 12mo, clutb, $1.&0.

The wonder of it is : It is written by a student-
girl! — that a glr! has the judgment, tlie tact, the
Hclf-suppressing watchfuhicss, the adaptability,
freshness and readiness, teachableness, the charm-
ing spirit and manner that lets her into the inside
view of everything, makes her welcome In liomcs
and intimate social gatherings, not as one of
themselves, but as a foreigner-hiarner ; and added
io all these splendid endowments the gift of easy-
flowing narrative, light in fecliny and f-.:" of bab-
etance !

Tlie book Is wonderfully full in the sense of
solidity. Sentence piled on sentence. Little dis-
course; all o1)servation ; participation. You see
and shnru; ;!uU you rise from the reading, not

with « Jnmblc of anconnected Informfttlon, but
with a clear IraprcusJon of having mot tho ppoplo
and lived In the fatherUnd. You knuw the rter-
nians an you might not get to know them If you
lived for » year or two among them.

Kobodr but Mm. Diaz could get so mnch wit,
good sense, and bright nonscDso out of barn
lectures before an audience of nine by a philoso-
pher of eight years and a month. But trust the
author of the Cat Book, the William Henry Letters,
Lucy Maria, Polly Cologne and the Jlmmyjobns.

The John Splcer Lectuwi. E/ Abby Morton Dial. »9
pAKCi. IBnio, to centi.

All In perfect gravity. Tlicse are the subjects :
Christmas Tree. Knives, Swapping, Clothes, Food,
Money. And the passages where tho applause
came In are noted. Tho applause and groans are
often Irjportaot parts of the text.

Excellent reading are sketches of eminent men
and wowcn If only they are bright enough to
make one wish they were longer. A great deal
of Insight Into history, character, human nature,
is to be got from just such sketches.
Hero are two bookf nls of them :
Btorlei! of Gre<it Men «. 1 Storln of BcmirkaUe Women.
Both by F»yo HunUngton. IM ujd 9» pages. lOmo, cloth,
to cents each.

Both the great men and remarkable women, of
whom by the way there are twenty-six and twenty-
two, are chosen from many sorts of eminence;
but they arc sketched In a way to draw from the
life of each some pleasant practical lesson. Not
designed for Sunday Schools apparently j but good
there.

5cted lnfonn«tloiJ, but
having met tlio ppopla
a. You knuw the Olt-
!t to know them If you
ong them.

could Rct so much wit,
nonscDso out of barn
:o of nine by a phlloso-
i month. But trust the
B William Henry Letters,
and the Jlmmyjohns.
B/ Abby Morton Dim. W

Tlicse are the subjects :
Iwapplng, Clothes, Food,
res where the applause
applause and groans are

the text.

ketches of eminent men
•y are bright enough to
•e longer. A great deal
iharacter, human nature,
Eh sketches,
of them :

Stories of Itemmrkable Women.
138 »nd99 pages. lOmo, cloth,

id remarkable women, of
,re twenty-six and tweuty-
nany sorts of eminence;
n a way to draw from the
mt practical lesson. Not
lools apparently ; but good