THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES 

 
 FLOWERETS.
 
 ffotomls* 
 
 A SERIES OF STORIES ON THE COMMANDMENTS. 
 
 BY JOANNA H. MATHEWS, 
 
 Author of the "Bessie Books." 
 
 I. VIOLET'S IDOL. THE FIRST AND SECOND COM- 
 MANDMENTS Jo-75 
 
 II. DAISY'S WORK. THE THIRD COMMANDMENT. . 0.75 
 
 III. ROSE'S TEMPTATION. THE FOURTH COMMAND- 
 MENT 0.73 
 
 IV. LILY'S LESSON THE FIFTH COMMANDMENT . . 0.75 
 
 V. HYACINTHE AND HER BROTHERS. THE 
 
 SIXTH COMMANDMENT 0.75 
 
 VI. PINKIE AND THE RABBITS. THE EIGHTH, 
 
 NINTH, AND TENTH COMMANDMENTS .... 0.75 
 
 The set in a neat box, $4-50. 
 
 ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 Ne-w York.
 
 DAISY'S WORK. 
 
 SEfje STfjirt Comman&ment. 
 
 BY 
 JOANNA H. MATHEWS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE "BESSIE BOOKS." 
 
 " Thou shall not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain ; for 
 the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain." 
 
 " Let your communication be yea, yea, and nay, nay ; for whatso- 
 ever is more than these cometh of evil." 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 
 530, BROADWAY. 
 
 1870.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 
 
 ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON.
 
 "P2L7 
 
 TO 
 
 MY DEAR LITTLE COUSIN, 
 LULU CHAUNCEY. 
 
 622734
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I. THE LITTLE FLOWER-GIRL n 
 
 II. A CLUSTER OF DAISIES 35 
 
 III. THE DAISY TRANSPLANTED 63 
 
 IV. DAISY'S SISTER FLOWERETS .... 85 
 V. DAISY AT STUDY 107 
 
 VI. DAISY A TEACHER 127 
 
 VII. THE SWEARING CLASS 151 
 
 VIII. DAISY'S NAME 181 
 
 IX. THE LOST FOUND 201
 
 THE LITTLE FLOWER-GIRL.
 
 '/
 
 DAISY'S WORK. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE LITTLE FLOWER-GIRL. 
 
 T^HERE stood our Daisy. What 
 a Daisy it was too; what a fair, 
 sweet floweret; pure and innocent- 
 looking as the blossoms over which 
 
 O 
 
 she bent. There she stood beside 
 her basket of flowers, a little spot of 
 brightness and beauty amidst all the 
 dust and heat and turmoil of the 
 noisy street, on that warm summer 
 afternoon.
 
 12 Daisy's Work. 
 
 It was a street which ran beside a 
 great railroad depot. Porters, carmen, 
 and hackmen were calling, shout- 
 ing, and swearing; passengers were 
 hurrying by to catch the trains which 
 were starting every few minutes; car- 
 riages driving up with their loads of 
 ladies and children; and farther down 
 the street were great trucks laden 
 with freight, and express-wagons fill- 
 ed with baggage, which the railroad 
 porters were unloading with a great 
 amount of noise and crash; and 
 amongst it all was Daisy, standing 
 opposite the door of the ladies' en- 
 trance. 
 
 But not one of all those passers-by 
 knew that she was a "Daisy," or 
 that those were her namesakes which
 
 The Little Flower-Girl. 13 
 
 she held so lovingly in her little 
 hands. Now and then one stopped 
 to buy one of the five or ten cent bou- 
 quets, so tastefully arranged, which 
 lay in her basket; and almost all who 
 did so had a kind word to give the 
 child; for there was something in her 
 look and air which pleaded for ten- 
 derness and sympathy. It did not 
 seem that this was her proper place; 
 for even in her homely dress she 
 looked so dainty and delicate, and 
 moved and spoke so like a little lady, 
 that it was easy to see that she had 
 been accustomed to a different kind 
 of life. But all who noticed her, or 
 stopped to buy her flowers, were in 
 such haste that none had time for 
 more than a passing interest in the
 
 14 Daisy's Work. 
 
 child, and contented themselves with 
 wondering and pitying. 
 
 Down the street came a lady with 
 a little girl, the latter skipping and 
 jumping as she held her mother's 
 hand. No wonder the little one was 
 happy, and as full of play and merry 
 pranks as any kitten; for she had 
 been spending such a pleasant day 
 with mamma in the city, and was 
 now going back with " such lots to 
 tell about and heaps of pretty things " 
 to her own lovely country home. 
 
 "Oh, see, mamma!" she said, as 
 her eye fell upon the other child, 
 " see those pretty flowers that dear 
 little girl is selling. She is just about 
 as large as Lola Swan, and dorft 
 she look nice and sweet. Won't
 
 The Little Flower-Girl. 15 
 
 you buy some flowers from her, 
 mamma?" 
 
 T You have plenty of flowers at 
 home, dear Lily, and we have about 
 as much as we can carry now," an- 
 swered her mother. 
 
 " Oh, dear mamma, but those little 
 brenkays " (bouquets, Lily meant) 
 " would take up such a tiny mite of 
 room, and I want you to buy some 
 for kindness to the little girl. She 
 looks so sorry out of her eyes, mam- 
 ma." 
 
 Moved by the pleadings of her 
 little daughter, Mrs. Ward turned 
 toward the flower-girl, whom in her 
 hurry she had nearly passed without 
 a look, and asked the price of her 
 bouquets.
 
 1 6 Daisy's Work. 
 
 !f What a pretty pot of daisies ! 
 Can't I have that, mamma ? " asked 
 Lily. 
 
 But at this the flower-girl drew 
 back and put one hand over the pot 
 of daisies she held in the other, as if 
 she feared it was to be taken from 
 her by force. 
 
 " I'll ask papa to carry them for 
 me, mamma," said Lily. 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! " said a cheery voice 
 behind her, " so you think papa has 
 nothing better to do than turn express- 
 man and carry all your traps, do you ? 
 I wonder how many bundles are al- 
 ready waiting in the depot for me to 
 put safely in the cars ; " and turning 
 about Lily saw her father, who had 
 overtaken his wife and little girl.
 
 The Little Flo wer-Girl. 17 
 
 "Oh! lots and lots!" said Lily, 
 jumping about with new glee as she 
 saw him. r? We bought something 
 for everybody, papa; and I bought n 
 present for your birthday to-morrow; 
 but it is a secret. Mamma is going 
 to fill it with ink and I'll put it on 
 your writing-table 'fore you come 
 down in the morning; but you won't 
 ask what it is, will you? " 
 
 " Not on any account," said Mr. 
 Ward. " But you must make haste 
 and buy your flowers, or we shall not 
 find good seats in the cars. So you 
 want these daisies, do you? How 
 much are they, my child ? " 
 
 But again the flower-girl drew back. 
 
 w I couldn't sell them, sir," she said; 
 " at least not now, not if, " 
 
 2*
 
 1 8 Daisy's Work. 
 
 " Oh ! they are for some favorite 
 customer, hey? You see, Lily, you 
 can't have them. Well, pick out 
 your bouquets; we'll hang them about 
 our necks if we can't carry them any 
 other way," said Mr. Ward. " This 
 is the little girl I told you about, my 
 dear," turning to his wife, who had 
 been looking at the sweet, sad face 
 of the young flower vender. 
 
 ;? What is your name, my child ? " 
 asked the lady. 
 
 " My name is they call me Mar- 
 garet," said the child, with hesitation 
 in her voice and manner, and a sud- 
 den flush breaking over her face. 
 
 "There," said Mr. Ward, when, 
 having paid for the flowers which 
 Lily had chosen, he hurried his wife
 
 The Little Flower-Girl. 19 
 
 and daughter away; w there, my dear, 
 I did not say too much about that 
 child, did I?" 
 
 Why no," said Mrs. Ward, look- 
 ing back to the small figure beside its 
 basket of flowers, there is certainly 
 something very interesting about her. 
 Her speech and manner, as well as 
 her looks, are strangely refined and 
 lady-like for one in her position. I 
 wish we had time to talk more to 
 her." 
 
 The flower-girl looked after them 
 and sighed, a long, weary sigh, as 
 she watched the frolicsome Lily. 
 
 " Most all little girls have their fa- 
 thers and mothers," she said softly to 
 herself; " but I don't have either. I 
 wonder why God did take both of
 
 2O Daisy's Work. 
 
 mine away; if He didn't know how 
 lonesome I would be, or why He 
 didn't take me too. I don't see what 
 good I can be to Him all alone by 
 myself, except Betty and Jack. But 
 then He knows, and maybe He only 
 wants me to be patient till He's ready 
 to take me." 
 
 But the wistful eyes brightened 
 again, as, having watched Lily and 
 her friends disappear within the door 
 of the depot, she turned them the 
 other way to see if new customers 
 were coming. 
 
 " There he comes," she said, as her 
 eye fell upon a tall, broad-shouldered 
 gentleman coming down the street, 
 "soldier" written in every line and 
 motion of his figure, from the erect,
 
 The Little Flower-Girl. 21 
 
 stately head, down to the ringing, 
 military tread of his firm foot. 
 
 " Good afternoon, little woman," 
 he said, returning with a pleasant 
 smile her welcoming look; " is my 
 wife's bouquet all ready ? " 
 
 Taking from the corner of her 
 basket a bouquet somewhat larger 
 than the rest, and of rather choicer 
 flowers, she held it up to him. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," she said, as she 
 received the price; and then, with 
 rising color, added, " would it be too 
 much trouble to carry this to the 
 lady?" 
 
 "Too much trouble? No! How 
 much is it? " he said, putting his hand 
 again into his pocket. 
 
 "Oh! sir, I didn't mean that. I
 
 22 Daisy's Work. 
 
 didn't want to sell it, but to give it 
 to you, if you would take it to the 
 lady you buy flowers for every day. 
 I want to send it to her because you 
 are so kind to me, and because be- 
 cause you put me in mind of of 
 somebody." 
 
 " That is it, is it? " said the gentle- 
 man. " Well, I can't refuse such a 
 pretty gift, so prettily offered. And 
 who do I put you in mind of, pray?" 
 
 " Of my papa, sir. You do look 
 like him." 
 
 " Humph ! " said the gentleman, 
 not much pleased at the idea that he 
 was like the father of this little poor 
 child, above her station though she 
 looked. "And these are daisies, hey? 
 My wife will like them."
 
 The Little Flower-Girl. 23 
 
 " General, do you mean to miss the 
 train ? " said an acquaintance, as he 
 passed. 
 
 " Not with my own consent, cer- 
 tainly," said the gentleman. " I shall 
 thank you for the lady to-morrow, 
 my little girl." 
 
 But as he turned to go, his foot 
 slipped upon a piece of orange-peel, 
 thrown down by some careless per- 
 son, and he had nearly fallen. He 
 would have been down altogether but 
 for his little companion; but as he 
 involuntarily put out his hand, she 
 caught it; and that support, frail and 
 slight as it was, was sufficient to 
 steady him. 
 
 Kind of heart, noble and generous 
 though he was, the soldier was hasty-
 
 24 Daisy's Work. 
 
 tempered and quick, and an oath 
 a fearful oath burst from his lips. 
 
 " Ah, you were my good angel. 
 You have saved me from a bad fall," 
 he said almost in the same breath, 
 but in a very different tone and man- 
 ner, as he turned to the child. 
 
 His good angel! Ah, yes! More 
 than he knew, his good angel. Those 
 little hands should from this time hold 
 him from falling into the sin of which 
 he had just beeri guilty. 
 
 Years ago General Forster would 
 have been shocked at the thought 
 of letting such words escape his 
 lips, though even then he was none 
 too reverent or careful in speaking of 
 sacred persons or things; but in the 
 bustle and excitement of war he had,
 
 The Little Flower- Girl. 25 
 
 alas! like many another brave man, 
 allowed himself to fall into the habit 
 of taking God's holy name in vain. 
 But careless though he might be 
 before men in moments of forgetful- 
 ness, or when his hasty temper got 
 the better of him, he seldom or never 
 suffered himself to use such words 
 before women or children; why, you 
 shall learn. 
 
 " Why, have I hurt you ? " he ask- 
 ed, seeing with surprise her startled 
 and troubled face. 
 
 "No, sir, oh! no," she answered, 
 catching her breath, " but, but " 
 
 "Well, but what?" 
 
 " But I am so sorry j " and that she 
 was so was proved, as she covered 
 her face with her hands and burst 
 into tears.
 
 26 Daisy's Work. 
 
 " Sorry for what? " he asked. 
 
 She gave him no answer, but shrank 
 a little away. 
 
 w Sorry for what ? " he repeated, as 
 if determined to know; and the tone 
 of command, which seemed to say 
 he was used to instant obedience, 
 forced her to speak, whether she 
 would or no. 
 
 " Sorry for those words you said, 
 sir," she sobbed. 
 
 "Those words? What words?" 
 But his question answered itself as it 
 was spoken; for his wicked words, 
 which but for this would have been 
 forgotten the next instant, came back 
 to him, and he stood rebuked before 
 this poor little flower-girl. He re- 
 pented already; but repented only
 
 TJte Little Flower-Girl. 27 
 
 because he had distressed this simple 
 child, in whom he took so much in- 
 terest, not yet because he had grieved 
 and offended the Holy One whose 
 name he had profaned. 
 
 Still he was vexed too. 
 
 tf Why, you don't mean to say," he 
 said rather impatiently, "that you 
 never hear such words as those, 
 standing here as you do, half the day, 
 with those rough men and boys about 
 you? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir! " she said, plaintive- 
 ly. " I do hear such words, often, 
 often. I try not to; but I can't help 
 it, you see ; and it makes me so sorry. 
 But I thought those poor men and 
 boys could not know how to read, 
 and had never been taught better,
 
 28 Daisy's Work. 
 
 or perhaps they did not know what 
 God had said in His commandments. 
 But I did not think gentlemen said 
 such things ; and I liked you so 
 much." 
 
 And did she like him less now? 
 He, the gentleman, the rich man, felt 
 that he could not wish to lose the re- 
 spect and liking of this little child 
 whom he thought so far beneath him, 
 and he was ashamed and sorry. He 
 knew that it was not impertinence, 
 but only her innocent simplicity and 
 truthfulness, which had caused her to 
 say what she did. But to know that 
 he was in the wrong and to acknowl- 
 edge it, were one and the same thing 
 with this true-hearted man. 
 
 :? You are right, Margaret," he said,
 
 The Little Flower-GirL 29 
 
 forgetting how fast the moments were 
 flying. " Gentlemen should not say 
 such things, especially before ladies 
 and children. It is bad manners; 
 but I forgot myself just then." 
 
 She took her hands from her face 
 and looked up at him. There was 
 an unspoken question in the clear, 
 earnest eyes, and it was plain that 
 she was not yet satisfied. 
 
 :? Well," he said smiling at her, 
 "what troubles you still? Let me 
 have it all." 
 
 " I was only thinking what differ- 
 ence could it make, sir." 
 
 :r What difference could what 
 make?" 
 
 :? Whether it was ladies and chil- 
 dren who heard it, sir," she answered 
 3*
 
 30 Daisy's Work. 
 
 timidly. " God hears it all the same, 
 doesn't He? And it can't make any 
 difference to Him who else hears it." 
 She looked up as she spoke at the 
 blue sky overhead, and the look and 
 the words brought to him a sudden 
 sense of God's constant presence and 
 nearness. He had known it well 
 enough before, that the Almighty 
 Eye saw him always; that the Al- 
 mighty Ear heard him always; but he 
 had never felt it as he did now. The 
 gentle, timid reproof had gone far 
 deeper than the little giver had in- 
 tended, and her hearer felt ashamed 
 that he had confessed to her that he 
 would pay a respect to a woman or 
 child which he did not feel it needful 
 to pay to his Maker. He could make 
 her no answer.
 
 The Little Flower-Girl. 31 
 
 w You behind time, General ? " said 
 the voice of another friend as he hur- 
 ried past; and the scream of the 
 warning whistle told the gentleman 
 that he had no time to lose. 
 
 "I'll see you to-morrow. Good- 
 by, my child. God bless you," he 
 said hurriedly, and rushed away. 
 
 But just in time; he was the last 
 passenger, and stepped upon the plat- 
 form of a car as the train was put in 
 motion. The jar threw him once 
 more a little off his balance, and he 
 caught by the rail to save himself, 
 while again hasty, profane words rose 
 to his lips. 
 
 But they did not pass them. What 
 though no human ear should hear; 
 " God heard them all the same," and
 
 32 Daisy's Work. 
 
 they were checked before even the 
 summer wind could catch them; and 
 in their place the angels carried up 
 the heart-breathed prayer, " God keep 
 me from them in time to come." 
 
 His next neighbor in the cars 
 thought General Forster remarkably 
 silent and unsociable that afternoon. 
 He would not talk, but buried him- 
 self behind his newspaper. If the 
 neighbor had looked closer he would 
 have seen that the General's eyes 
 were fixed, not on the paper held be- 
 fore his face, but on the little pot of 
 daisies which rested on his knee. 
 And over the delicate pink and white 
 blossoms was breathed a vow, a 
 vow registered in heaven and faith- 
 fully kept on earth.
 
 A CLUSTER OF DAISIES.
 
 II. 
 
 A CLUSTER OF DAISIES. 
 
 "TWHAT are you thinking of, 
 Frank?" said Mrs. Forster, 
 looking at her husband as he stood 
 leaning against the casing of the win- 
 dow, gazing thoughtfully out at the 
 lovely garden beyond. 
 
 " Of a bad habit of mine," he an- 
 swered. 
 
 r? You have none; at least none 
 that I cannot put up with," she said 
 playfully.
 
 36 Daisy's Work. 
 
 " That's not the question, dear 
 Gertrude," he returned gravely. " It 
 is whether my Maker can put up with 
 it, and I believe that He cannot, since 
 he has said He ' will not hold him 
 guiltless that taketh His name in 
 vain.' r 
 
 Mrs. Forster colored as she bent 
 her head over the sleeping baby on 
 her lap. 
 
 T You did not know, perhaps," her 
 husband said, after a minute's silence, 
 " that I was ever guilty of this sin ? " 
 
 ?? I did know it, Frank; at least I 
 have heard you now and then, when 
 you were speaking to your dogs and 
 horses, or even when you were a 
 little impatient with the men. But 
 you did not mean me to hear such
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 37 
 
 words; and I noticed you never used 
 them in my presence." 
 
 "No," he said a little sadly: "I 
 would not speak in my wife's pres- 
 ence words which were not fit for 
 her to hear; but I forgot an ear still 
 purer, which I was insulting and de- 
 fying. That is the second thrust I 
 have had to-day, Gertrude, which has 
 made me feel that I have treated the 
 Almighty with less of reverence and 
 respect than I would show to some 
 of my fellow-creatures. Let me tell 
 you of the innocent lesson I received 
 from the little flower-girl, who sent 
 the daisies to you." 
 
 And sitting down beside her, he 
 told her of the teaching which had 
 come to him from the little wayside 
 4
 
 38 Daisy's Work. 
 
 blossom; to whose lonely, thirsting 
 heart his few kind words and smiles 
 had been as drops of dew from 
 heaven. 
 
 But even while they talked of her 
 and her pretty lady-like ways and 
 sayings, which seemed so far above 
 her station, they did not know she 
 was a " Daisy," and that those were 
 her namesakes over which Mrs. Fors- 
 ter bent, dropping happy tears and 
 kisses on them, mingled with many a 
 blessing on the little giver. 
 
 Plucking one of the flowers from 
 the stem, she opened her baby's tiny 
 hand and placed it within it. The 
 fairy fingers closed around it, clasping 
 it tight, while the unconscious little 
 one slept on.
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 39 
 
 " Her name is Gertrude, but we'll 
 call her Daisy, Frank, as soon as 
 she is old enough to be called any 
 thing but baby," said the young 
 mother, " and her pretty pet name may 
 serve as a reminder of this day's les- 
 son, if ever it should be forgotten." 
 
 :? You think I may need it," said 
 her husband, smiling. "I trust not; 
 for the sin, to say nothing of the vul- 
 garity, of taking God's name in vain, 
 has been set forth so plainly by my 
 innocent little teacher, that I must 
 have a short memory, indeed, if I 
 failed to remember her lesson. She 
 thought gentlemen must know bet- 
 ter." 
 
 t? But, dear," said the lady, " you 
 said you would inquire about this
 
 40 Daisy's Work. 
 
 child, and see if we could not be of 
 some use to her." 
 
 w So I did," he answered ; " and so I 
 will, and should have done long since; 
 but day after day I have let business 
 or pleasure keep me till I had but just 
 time to catch the train, and none to 
 bestow on the poor little creature 
 who seems to have been so grateful 
 for the few kind words I have given 
 her. You think I am rather fanciful 
 about this child, I know, Gertrude; 
 but I am convinced that some of her 
 few years must have been spent 
 among different people than those by 
 whom she is now surrounded. Nor 
 am I the only one of her customers 
 who has noticed the grace of her 
 speech and manners, so uncommon
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 41 
 
 in a child of her class. Ward, and 
 others beside, have seen it; but like 
 myself have never made it their busi- 
 ness to see after her. However, to- 
 morrow afternoon, I shall make it a 
 point to be at the depot in time to 
 have a talk with her. I wonder if 
 the woman who keeps the fruit-stall 
 at the corner, and whose child I be- 
 lieve she is, would give her up and 
 let her go to school." 
 
 He was as good as his word; and 
 more than an hour earlier than usual, 
 our little flower-girl saw "her gentle- 
 man " coming down the street to- 
 wards the depot. It was an eager, 
 wistful little face, with some question- 
 ing fear in it, that she raised to him, 
 for she was anxious lest she should 
 
 4*
 
 42 Daisy's Work. 
 
 have offended her kind friend, as she 
 had learned to think him, by her 
 plain speech of the day before. 
 
 She had scarcely meant to speak 
 so plainly ; the words had seemed to 
 escape her without her intending it, 
 and, it was true, had been drawn forth 
 by the gentleman's own questions; 
 but when she remembered them after- 
 wards she feared that he would think 
 her rude and disrespectful. 
 
 She need not have been afraid. 
 His eye and voice were even kinder 
 than usual as he came near to her, 
 and he laid his hand gently on her 
 head, saying, 
 
 K Well, my little woman ! and how 
 does the world go with you to-day? 
 The lady told me to thank you very 
 much for the daisies."
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 43 
 
 The young face brightened. 
 " Did she like them, sir? " 
 :? Very much indeed, all the more 
 because she has a little one at home 
 whom she is going to call ? Daisy ' 
 after your pretty flowers." 
 "Is she your little girl, sir?" 
 :? Yes, she is a mite of a Daisy, but 
 a very precious one," he answered; 
 then looking into the flushed face, 
 with its soft, shining eyes and parted 
 lips, he added, "You are a Daisy 
 yourself." 
 
 The flowers she held dropped at 
 her feet unheeded as she clasped both 
 hands upon her breast, and with quick- 
 coming breath and filling eyes, asked 
 eagerly, w How did you know it, sir? 
 how did you know it?"
 
 44 Daisy's Work. 
 
 " Know what, my child ? What 
 troubles you ? " 
 
 " How did you know I was Dai- 
 sy?" she almost gasped. 
 
 " I did not know it," he answered 
 in surprise. " Is your name Daisy? 
 I thought it was Margaret." 
 
 "They call me Margaret, sir, 
 Betty and Jack; but Daisy is my own, 
 own name, that papa and mamma 
 called me," she answered, recovering 
 herself a little. 
 
 "And where are your papa and 
 mamma?" he asked. "I thought the 
 woman who keeps the fruit-stall at 
 the corner was your mother." 
 
 "Oh, no, sir! " she said. " She is 
 only Betty. She is very good to me, 
 but she is not mamma. Mamma was
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 45 
 
 a lady," she added, with simple, child- 
 ish dignity, which told that she was 
 a lady herself. 
 
 " But where are your father and 
 mother?" he repeated, with fresh in- 
 terest in the child. 
 
 "Mamma is drowned, sir; and we 
 could never find papa," she answered, 
 with such pathos in her tones. 
 
 " Come into the depot with me," 
 said General Forster : " I want to talk 
 to you." 
 
 She obeyed, and, taking up her 
 basket, followed him into the waiting- 
 room, where, heedless of the many 
 curious eyes around, he made her sit 
 down beside him, and drew from her 
 her sad, simple story : how long, 
 long ago she had lived with papa and
 
 46 Daisy's Work. 
 
 mamma and her little brother and 
 baby sister in their own lovely home, 
 far away from here; where it was, 
 she did not know, but in quite a dif- 
 ferent place from the great bus- 
 tling city which she had never seen 
 till she came here with Betty and 
 Jack; how she had left home with 
 mamma and the baby on a great ship, 
 where to go she could not remem- 
 ber ; how Betty was on board, and 
 mamma had been kind to her; how 
 a dreadful storm had come and there 
 was great confusion and terror; and 
 then it seemed as if she went to sleep 
 for a long, long time, and knew noth- 
 ing more till she found herself living 
 with Betty and Jack in their poor 
 home far up in the city.
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 47 
 
 They had been very good to her, 
 nursing and caring for her during the 
 many months she had been weak and 
 ailing; and now that she was stronger 
 and better, she tried to help them 
 all she could, keeping the two small 
 rooms tidy, while Betty was away 
 attending to her stall ; and in the 
 afternoon selling the flowers which 
 Jack raised in his little garden, and 
 she arranged in tasteful bouquets. 
 And, lastly, she told how from the 
 very first time she had seen General 
 Forster, she thought he " looked so 
 like papa " that she felt as if she must 
 love him, and was so happy when he 
 stopped to buy flowers of her and 
 spoke kindly to her. 
 
 The story was told with a straight-
 
 48 Daisy's Work. 
 
 forward and simple pathos, which 
 went right to the listener's heart, and 
 left him no doubt of its truth. But 
 the child could tell nothing of her 
 own name or her parents', save that 
 she was always called "Daisy" at 
 home, and that she had never since 
 heard the familiar name until to-day, 
 when she thought this stranger had 
 given it to her. Betty and Jack al- 
 ways called her "Margaret;" and 
 Betty thought she knew mamma's 
 name, but she did not. But she loved 
 daisies dearly for the sake of their 
 name, which had been her own; and 
 she had raised and tended with loving 
 care the little plant she had given to 
 " my gentleman " as a token of grati- 
 tude for his kindness, and because he 
 was " so like papa."
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 49 
 
 Having learned all that he could 
 from the child herself, the gentle- 
 man went to the fruit-woman on the 
 corner. 
 
 w So," he said, "the little girl whom 
 you call Margaret is not your own 
 daughter ? " 
 
 "Indade, no, sir," answered Betty; 
 " niver a daughter of me own have I 
 barrin' Jack, and he's not me own at 
 all, but jist me sister's son what died, 
 lavin' him a babby on me hands. 
 More betoken that it's not a little 
 lady like her that the likes of me 
 would be raisin', unless she'd none 
 of her own to do it." 
 
 " Will you tell me how that came 
 about?" 
 
 Betty told the story in her turn, 
 5
 
 50 Daisy's Work. 
 
 in as plain and simple a manner as 
 the child's, though in language far 
 different. 
 
 Her husband had been steward on 
 a sailing vessel running between New 
 Orleans and New York; and about 
 three years ago, she, being sick and 
 ordered change of air, had been al- 
 lowed to go with him for the voyage. 
 But it made her worse instead of 
 better ; and on the return trip she 
 would have died, Betty declared, if it 
 had not been for the kindness and 
 tender nursing of a lady, "Margaret's" 
 mother. This lady "her name had 
 been Saacyfut, she believed, but 
 maybe she disremembered intirely, 
 for Margar^ said it was not " was 
 on her way to New York with her
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 5 1 
 
 little girl who was sick, a baby, and 
 a French nurse; but her home was 
 neither there nor in New Orleans, 
 at least so the child afterwards said. 
 
 Her own account of the storm was 
 the same as the child's; but while the 
 recollection of the little one could go 
 no further, Betty remembered only 
 too well the horrors of that day. 
 
 When it was found that the ship 
 must sink, and that all on board must 
 leave her, there had been, as the little 
 girl said, great confusion. How it 
 was, Betty could not exactly tell ; 
 she had been placed in one boat, the 
 French nurse, with the child in her 
 arms, beside her; and the lady was 
 about to follow with the infant, when 
 a spar fell, striking the Frenchwoman
 
 52 Daisy's Work. 
 
 on the head and killing her instantly, 
 knocking overboard one of the three 
 sailors who were in the boat, while 
 at the same time the boat was parted 
 from the ship and at the mercy of the 
 raging waves. In vain did the two 
 sailors who were left try to regain 
 the ship : they were swept further 
 and further away, and soon lost sight 
 of the vessel. They drifted about all 
 night, and the next morning were 
 taken up by a fishing-smack which 
 brought them to New York. 
 
 Fright and exposure and other 
 hardships, while they seemed to have 
 cured Betty, were too much for the 
 poor little girl, and a long and ter- 
 rible illness followed : after which 
 she lay for months, too weak to move
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 53 
 
 or speak, and appearing to have lost 
 all memory and sense. And when at 
 last she grew better and stronger, and 
 reason and recollection came back, 
 she could not tell the name of her 
 parents or her home. 
 
 "Margantf Saacyfut," Betty per- 
 sisted in saying the French nurse had 
 called her little charge, " Mamsell 
 Margar<2/," "and if the lady's name 
 wasn't Saacyfut it was mightily nigh 
 to it." 
 
 " Marguerite " had been the French 
 woman's name for " Daisy : " that the 
 General saw plainly enough, but he 
 could make nothing of the surname. 
 
 "But did you not seek for the 
 child's friends, Betty?" he asked. 
 
 "'Deed did I, sir," she answered. 
 5*
 
 54 Daisy's Work. 
 
 w Didn't I even ad^rtise her, an' how 
 she was to be heerd of, but all to no 
 good. An' I writ to New Orleans to 
 them what owned the ship, but they 
 were that oncivil they niver answered, 
 not they. An' it took a hape of money, 
 sir, to be payin' the paper, an' me such 
 hard work to get along, an' Margar^/ 
 on me hands, an' I had to be done 
 with it. For ye see me man was 
 gone wid the ship, an' niver heerd of 
 along wid the rest to this day; an' I 
 had to use up the bit he'd put by 
 in the savin's bank till the child was 
 mendin' enough for me to lave her 
 wid Jack." 
 
 " It was a very generous thing for 
 you to burden yourself with the care 
 of her," said General Forster.
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 55 
 
 "Burden is it, sir? Niver a burden 
 was she, the swate lamb, not even 
 when the sense had left her. An' 
 that was what the neighbors was al- 
 ways a sayin', and why didn't I put 
 her in the hospital. An' why would 
 I do that after the mother of her 
 savin' me from a buryin' in the say, 
 which I niver could abide. For sure 
 if it hadn't been for the lady I'd 'a 
 died on the ould ship, and they'd 
 'a chucked me overboard widout 
 sayin' by your lave ; and sure I'd 
 niver have got over such a buryin' as 
 that all the days of me life. And 
 would I be turnin' out her child afther 
 that? An' isn't she payin' me for it 
 now, an' 'arnin' her livin,' an' mine 
 too? She an' Jack tends the bit of
 
 56 Daisys Work. 
 
 a garden, an' arternoons she comes 
 down an' sells her flowers, an' 
 where'd be the heart to refuse her 
 wid her pretty ways and nice man- 
 ners j a lady every inch of her, like 
 her mother before her." 
 
 And thrusting her head out from 
 her stall, Betty gazed down the street 
 with admiring affection on her young 
 protegee. 
 
 " Och ! but she's the jewel of a 
 child," she went on; " and it is sur- 
 prisin' how me and Jack is improved 
 and become ginteel all along of her. 
 Ye see, sir, I did use to say a hape of 
 words that maybe wer'n't jist so ; not 
 that I meant 'em for swearin', but it 
 was jist a way of spakin'. But after 
 Marga;W began to mend and get
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 57 
 
 about, ye would have thought she 
 was kilt intirely if I let one out of 
 me mouth. So seem' how it hurted 
 her, I jist minded what I was about, 
 an' Jack the same, for he was a boy 
 that swore awful, poor fellow; he'd 
 been left to himself, and how was he 
 to know better? At first him and me 
 minded our tongues, for that the child 
 shouldn't be hurted ; but by and by 
 didn't she make it plain to us that it 
 was the great Lord himself what we 
 was ofFendin', and knowin' she'd been 
 tached better nor me, I jist heeded 
 her. And now, sir, them words that 
 I never thought no harm of and used 
 to come so aisy, I jist leave them out 
 of me spache widout troublin' ; and a 
 deal better it sounds, and widout
 
 58 Daisy's Work. 
 
 doubt more plasin' to Him that's 
 above. And Jack the same mostly, 
 though he does let one slip now and 
 agin. So ye see, sir, it's not a burden 
 she is at all, at all, but jist a little bit 
 of light and comfort to the house that 
 houlds her." 
 
 Glad to find a listener in a " gintle- 
 man the likes of him," Betty had 
 talked away to the gentlemen, so taken 
 up with her story, that she paid little 
 heed to the business of her stall. 
 She made wrong change more than 
 once, gave quarts instead of pints, 
 oranges in place of apples, and pea- 
 nuts for sugar-plums, and provoked 
 some impatient customers not a little; 
 while one wicked boy, seeing her at- 
 tention was taken up with something
 
 A Cluster of Daisies. 59 
 
 else, ran off without paying for the 
 pop-corn he asked for, and was not 
 called back. 
 
 But Betty lost nothing by the time 
 and thought she had given to the 
 gentleman, or the interest she had 
 shown in her young charge, as she 
 found when she looked at the number 
 upon the note he slipped into her 
 hand when he left her: a note which 
 the warm-hearted Irishwoman laid by 
 " to buy that new gown and pair of 
 shoes Margaret needed so bad."
 
 THE DAISY TRANSPLANTED.
 
 III. 
 
 THE DAISY TRANSPLANTED. 
 
 ""DETTY," said General Forster, 
 stopping the next morning at 
 the fruit- woman's stall, " could you 
 make up your mind to give up that 
 little girl if you were sure it was for 
 her good?" 
 
 Betty sighed and shook her head 
 mournfully as she answered, 
 
 "I've always looked to give her 
 up, sir, if them Saacyfuts, or what- 
 ever their name '11 be, turned up, and 
 if it was for her good, sorra a word
 
 64 Daisy's Work. 
 
 would they hear out of me, though I 
 won't say but it would go hard with 
 me and Jack. But ye'll not be tellin' 
 me ye've been findin' her friends since 
 last night, sir?" 
 
 "Not the people she belongs to, 
 certainly, Betty ; but I have found 
 those who will be friends to her, and 
 provide for her, if you will consent. 
 She should go to school and be well 
 taught: do you not think so?" 
 
 " Indade, an' there's none knows 
 that better nor meself, sir. An' is it 
 yerself that's the friend ye're spakin' 
 of?" and Betty gave a searching look 
 into the gentleman's face. 
 
 He smiled. "Yes," he said: "I 
 would like to put her to school and 
 take care of her. She seems a sweet
 
 The Daisy Transplanted. 65 
 
 child, and a good one. And you see, 
 Betty, I have it in my power to do 
 more to find her friends than you are 
 able to do, and we may trace them yet. 
 If we never find them, I will prom- 
 ise to provide for her as long as it may 
 be necessary. Are you willing?" 
 
 Betty again stared into the face of 
 her questioner as if she would look 
 him through. 
 
 w I'm sinsible of your kindness, 
 sir," she answered; "but ye see I'm 
 in a way risponsible for the child, not 
 to say that she is as dear to me as me 
 own flesh and blood, and I'd say 
 r yis,' and thank ye kindly, but 
 ye'll excuse me plain spakin' ye're 
 a stranger to me, and I couldn't be 
 
 partin' wid Marga?r^ widout I was 
 6*
 
 66 . Daisy's Work. 
 
 certified as to yer kanzd:er. For if I 
 didn't think she'd be brought up right, 
 niver a foot should she stir to go wid 
 ye. I seen Miss Gertrude Allston a 
 walkin' wid ye once last summer, sir, 
 jist after I set up me stand here, but 
 she niver heeded me wid her swate 
 face. But I used to be laundress in 
 her mother's house afore I was mar- 
 ried, and a swate child was Miss 
 Gertrude and a good as ye're sa}dn' 
 of Margantf, and she'll niver go far 
 wrong, I'll answer for it. So, if ye'll 
 jist bring me a line from her and 
 she says ye're all right, I'll not say 
 ye nay." 
 
 General Forster laughed heartily, 
 not one whit offended at Betty's 
 "plain spakin'."
 
 The Daisy Transplanted. 67 
 
 " Miss Gertrude Allston, as you 
 call her, will give me all the lines 
 you want, Betty; and she thought me 
 right enough to marry me. She is 
 my wife, Mrs. Forster." 
 
 "An' is it so, sir?" said Betty, 
 dropping the rosy-cheeked apple she 
 was polishing, and gazing at the 
 gentleman with a mixture of curi- 
 osity and admiration that was droll to 
 see. "Well, but ye're in luck; and 
 if it's Miss Gertrude that has the 
 managin' of ye, that's kararter enough 
 of itself, an' I'll say take the child an' 
 my blessin' on all of yees. But when 
 she gets among yer fine folks, ye'll 
 not let her be forgettin' the woman 
 what cared for her when there was 
 none else to do it: will ye, sir? An'
 
 68 Daisy's Work. 
 
 ye'll be lettin' me see her once in a 
 while?" 
 
 There is no need to say that this was 
 readily promised, and the General 
 went on to tell Betty what plans he 
 and his wife had for Daisy. She was 
 to be taken for a while to his home, 
 where Mrs. Forster would provide her 
 with proper clothing; and then send 
 her to Miss Collins' boarding-school 
 to be taught and trained in a way to 
 satisfy her friends if they should ever 
 find her, or that she might one day 
 be able to earn her own living, if it 
 should be needful. 
 
 " An' I'm glad she should have the 
 bringin' up of a lady which is what 
 I couldn't give her," said Betty, with 
 another sigh, for it went to her heart
 
 The Daisy Transplanted. 69 
 
 to part with her darling; "but ye'll 
 not be able to make her more of a 
 lady nor she is now ; no, not if ye 
 dress her in gould and jewels, an' silks 
 an' satins. Niver a rough word nor 
 way has she with her, if she has been 
 with me and Jack more nor two year, 
 nor ye couldn't find a purtier behaved 
 child in all the land." 
 
 An hour or two later, Betty, hav- 
 ing found a friend to "mind" her 
 stall for her, guided General Forster 
 to the tiny house in the suburbs of 
 the city where she lived with Daisy 
 and Jack. 
 
 The two children were out in the 
 little garden gathering the flowers 
 which were to be tied up in bouquets 
 for Daisy's afternoon sale; and great
 
 70 Daisy's Work. 
 
 was their surprise, when the sound of 
 the gate-latch causing them to look 
 up, they saw Betty coming home at 
 this unusual hour of the day, and the 
 gentleman with her. Their business 
 was soon told ; but although Daisy 
 flushed and smiled with astonishment 
 and delight when she heard what the 
 "gentleman who looked so like papa" 
 meant to do for her, the little face 
 soon shadowed over again, and she 
 shook her head gently but firmly 
 when she was asked if she would 
 
 g- 
 
 "An' why for no, dear?" asked 
 
 Betty. " Sure ye'd niver be for 
 throwin' away a chance the likes of 
 that, not to spake of it's bein' ongrate- 
 ful to the gintleman's kindness, an' he
 
 The Daisy Transplanted. 7 1 
 
 no more nor less than the husband of 
 Miss Gertrude." 
 
 But Daisy shook her head again; 
 and then first begging the gentle- 
 man's pardon, as a polite little girl 
 should do, stepped up to her faithful 
 friend, and putting her arms about 
 her neck whispered something in her 
 ear. 
 
 The tears she had before with 
 trouble kept back now started to 
 Betty's eyes. 
 
 " Och, an' is it that, honey ? " she 
 said in her broadest brogue, "an' 
 ye'll not let that be thrubblin' yer 
 dear heart. What a tinder, grateful 
 little sowl it is! Ye see, sir," she 
 went on, turning to the General, while 
 she smoothed with her loving hand
 
 72 Daisy's Work. 
 
 the little head which lay upon her 
 breast, "ye see, sir, it's just as I tellt 
 ye. She's a lady, every inch of her, 
 an' has feelin's that's jist oncommon. 
 An' there's a matter of back rint jew, 
 it's more'n a year, though me land- 
 lord he's as good as gould, an' a bill 
 at the poticary's, an' little scores at 
 the baker's an' grocers what I niver 
 got paid off yet, not since the child 
 was sick an' I couldn't rightly make 
 things go; an' she says she won't be 
 lavin' us now that she can turn a 
 
 i, 
 
 penny wid her posies an' help along." 
 Drawing the child to him, General 
 Forster whispered to her in his turn, 
 promising that the "back rint" and 
 other "scores" should be paid off 
 without delay if she would but come
 
 The Daisy Transplanted. 73 
 
 with him; and Daisy, feeling herself 
 nearer home and friends than she had 
 ever done since the dreadful day of 
 the shipwreck, when she was parted 
 from " mamma," put her hand trust- 
 ingly in his to be led where he 
 would. 
 
 But the parting went hard. Daisy 
 could not leave those who had been 
 so kind, and shared their little all 
 with her, without many a bitter tear. 
 Betty kissed her and clung to her 
 and called down all heaven's bless- 
 ings on her head; and Jack hung 
 over the gate, uttering frantic howls 
 as he watched the sobbing child led 
 away by her new protector. Not 
 one thought gave Jack to his fourteen 
 years; not one to the "fellers from 
 7
 
 74 Daisy's Work. 
 
 beyant the lot," who, drawn by his 
 cries, came flocking to see what ailed 
 him who was all their terror and 
 admiration: their admiration, because 
 he was bigger, stronger, braver than 
 any other boy of his age among their 
 crew; their terror, because of late he 
 allowed no bad word to be used in 
 his presence, banishing all who of- 
 fended in that way from their games, 
 choosing as his favorites and chief 
 companions those who were most 
 careful not to take God's name in 
 'vain. So cursing and swearing had 
 come to be much less frequent than 
 of old among the lanes and lots lying 
 around the humble house where the 
 little Daisy had bloomed and grown 
 during the last two years, dropping
 
 The Daisy Transplanted. 75 
 
 upon the path which God had chosen 
 for her good seed of which she knew 
 not herself. 
 
 Betty went back to her stand with 
 a heavy heart, knowing that when 
 she went home that night she should 
 miss the sweet little face which had 
 brightened and cheered her after many 
 a hard day's work; but she was half- 
 consoled for her own loss when she 
 saw Daisy coming down the street 
 holding General Forster's hand. For 
 the General's first care had been to _ 
 take the little girl to a place where 
 children's clothes could be had ready- 
 made; and where he had her fitted 
 out, as Betty said, K as nice as a new 
 pin and as became the little lady she 
 was by right."
 
 76 Daisy's Work. 
 
 But Daisy was as much a lady in 
 the coarse but clean calico frock and 
 patched shoes she had worn yester- 
 day, as she was now in the nice 
 clothes provided for her by General 
 Forster; for it was the sweet manners 
 and pretty ways she had never lost 
 which made her so, and the new gar- 
 ments covered as warm and loving a 
 little heart as the old ones had done. 
 And so Betty found, and knew that 
 pride would have no place there, 
 when, as she reached the stand, Daisy 
 drew her hand from the gentleman's, 
 and running behind the stall as she 
 had many a time done when she was 
 eager to show Betty what a good 
 afternoon's sale she had made with 
 her flowers, threw her arms about
 
 The Daisy Transplanted. 77 
 
 her neck and kissed her again and 
 again as lovingly as she had done 
 when she had no other friend in the 
 world. 
 
 Gentle Mrs. Forster gave Daisy a 
 warm welcome to her new home ; 
 and the manner in which the child 
 fell at once into the ways and habits 
 of those about her plainly showed 
 that they were not new to her, but 
 that she had at some time been well 
 accustomed to a different life than 
 that she had led for the last two 
 years. 
 
 She had ways of her own, too, that 
 were very charming: a pretty, dainty 
 grace in her behavior and speech; a 
 thoughtfulness and care for others, 
 surprising in any child of her age, 
 7*
 
 78 Daisy's Work. 
 
 for Daisy could not be more than 
 eight years old, and particularly so 
 for one who had had little teaching for 
 some time. It was easy to see that 
 Daisy had received careful training 
 at one time, and that the lessons then 
 learned had taken deep root and were 
 not yet forgotten in spite of the long 
 separation from her home and friends. 
 It had been intended, as General 
 Forster told Betty, to send the little 
 girl to boarding-school at Miss Col- 
 lins' ; but she soon grew so closely 
 to the hearts of her new friends that 
 they felt as if they could not bear to 
 part with her; and it was at last set- 
 tled that her home was to be with 
 them for the present, at least, and 
 that she should only go to Miss Col-
 
 The Daisy Transplanted. 79 
 
 lins for the morning, as most of the 
 other little girls in Glenwood did. 
 
 Mrs. Forster could not bear to send 
 from her this loving child, whose 
 greatest happiness seemed to be in 
 making others happy, and she grew 
 every day more and more interesting 
 as the familiar objects and customs 
 about her called up past recollections 
 of the home and parents she had lost. 
 She would watch the General for 
 hours at a time, as he sat reading or 
 writing, or follow him with wistful 
 eyes as he mounted his horse and 
 rode down the broad avenue "just 
 like papa ; " would hang over the 
 lesser Daisy as she lay sleeping, 
 :? 'cause she looks just as our baby at 
 home used to," and delighted to wait
 
 8o Daisys Work. 
 
 upon her and Mrs. Forster in a dainty, 
 neat-handed manner, which showed 
 that such loving service came quite 
 naturally to her. 
 
 She never called the infant "baby," 
 as the rest of the family did. With 
 her it was always " little Daisy." She 
 seemed to love the pretty name, either 
 given to herself or another; and all 
 the variety of choice flowers with 
 which General Forster's garden was 
 filled could not win her chief affec- 
 tion from her old favorite daisies, 
 :0 cause mamma loved them so and 
 named me after them." 
 
 But though she remembered so 
 much, the child could not recall the 
 name of her parents, or where they 
 had lived. Their name "was not
 
 The Daisy Transplanted. 81 
 
 what Betty called it," she was sure; 
 but none the less had it passed from 
 her mind. 
 
 "Francine," the French bonne, used 
 to call mamma " Madame," and her- 
 self "Mademoiselle Marguerite;" but 
 when she was asked what other peo- 
 ple used to call mamma and papa, the 
 little face grew clouded and pained 
 with the effort to remember; and 
 when name after name was men- 
 tioned to her, she shook her head at 
 each one. 
 
 The General tried by every means 
 in his power to discover the friends 
 who must still be mourning the loss 
 of their sweet little daisy blossom, 
 but all in vain; and as week after 
 week went by, he and his wife de-
 
 82 Daisy's Work. 
 
 cided that they could not send her 
 forth from their own roof unless her 
 relations came to claim her. She 
 was an added ray of light where 
 all had been brightness and sun- 
 shine before, a lovely, precious lit- 
 tle flower, lending new fragrance 
 and beauty to the home where she 
 blossomed.
 
 DAISY'S SISTER FLOWERETS.
 
 IV. 
 
 DAISY'S SISTER FLOWERETS. 
 
 OODNESS gracious ! mercy 
 me ! " 
 
 "I didn't mean to, Susy; 'pon my 
 word and honor I didn't; just as sure 
 as I'm alive." 
 
 Such were the words uttered by 
 two different little voices which our 
 Daisy heard, as holding by General 
 Forster's hand, she reached the gate 
 of Miss Collins' garden on the first 
 morning of her going to school in 
 
 Glenwood. 
 
 8
 
 86 Daisy's Work. 
 
 Now would it not have been 
 thought that some terrible misfortune 
 must have called forth that excla- 
 mation from the first young speaker; 
 or that the second thought herself 
 accused of some dreadful crime, and 
 that she must prove her innocence at 
 once by all the strong words she 
 could think of, if she would escape 
 severe punishment? 
 
 And what was this mighty matter? 
 
 Why, just this. 
 
 Susy Edwards and several of her 
 schoolmates were w making a land of 
 Egypt." For of late the geography 
 lesson of the young class had been 
 upon that country, and they had been 
 much interested in the pictures of 
 the pyramids and Sphinx. And Susy,
 
 Daisy's Sister Flowerets. 87 
 
 who tf liked to make her knowledge 
 of use in her plays," and who was 
 considered by the other children to 
 have a great genius in that way, had 
 proposed that they should turn a por- 
 tion of their play-ground into Egypt. 
 This was thought a capital plan, and 
 the recess of the day before had been 
 employed in this way, the little 
 planners and builders leaving it with 
 great regret, and returning to it be- 
 fore school-time that morning with 
 fresh pleasure and some new ideas. 
 
 The gravel walk was supposed to 
 be the desert; the trough which led 
 the waste water from the spring, the 
 River Nile; while a jointed wooden 
 doll, cruelly deprived for the purpose 
 of all its limbs, had half of its re-
 
 88 Daisy's Work. 
 
 mainder buried in the gravel, to rep- 
 resent the Sphinx. Any number of 
 pyramids, four or five inches high, 
 had been built out of pebbles, and 
 several were still going up. 
 
 And Lily Ward, the pet and dar- 
 ling of the school, the youngest child, 
 and till that day the newest scholar 
 there, had brought that morning a 
 tiny doll's bath-tub, with a doll to 
 match lying in it, saying it was to be 
 "Moses in the bulrushes, for it could'nt 
 be a real land of Egypt without a 
 Moses." 
 
 Lily's idea was received with great 
 applause and admiration, and she felt 
 rather proud of it herself when she 
 heard it so much praised. 
 
 But a difficulty arose. The little
 
 Daisy's Sister Flowerets. 89 
 
 tub did duty for the ark of bulrushes 
 most beautifully, it was " so real and 
 so cunning;" and never was a meeker 
 baby than the one which lay so quietly 
 within it. But he must be hidden, 
 and nothing could be found to answer 
 for flags. The grass about the mock 
 River Nile was quite too short for that 
 purpose, trampled on as it was through 
 each day's playtime by at least twenty 
 pairs of little feet ; and the willow 
 twigs which Lola Swan planted 
 would not stand up straight enough 
 to make a shade for the ark. 
 
 "There isn't time to plant them 
 deep enough," said Lola; "the school- 
 bell will ring in a few moments, and 
 then we'll have to leave it." 
 
 "And the sun will go and come 
 8*
 
 90 Daisy's Work. 
 
 round here before recess," said Lily, 
 in a tone of distress, " and Moses will 
 be all sunburned. Besides, it isn't a 
 bit real: they never leave babies lying 
 out in the sun." 
 
 " Put him out on the grass and turn 
 the ark upside-down over him till we 
 come out again," said Susy. 
 
 But Lily scouted the idea of having 
 her Moses treated in this way; and 
 all began at once to deepen the holes 
 for the willow twigs before the bell 
 should ring. 
 
 But suddenly a bright thought 
 struck Lily. 
 
 "Let's play Moses' mother and 
 Miriam put a pyramid over him," 
 she said. " We could do that pretty 
 quick, and it will be nice and shady
 
 Daisy's Sister Flowerets. 91 
 
 for him, and very real too, 'cause they 
 did have pyramids in Egypt." 
 
 All agreed readily, for this was 
 thought an excellent arrangement, 
 and they fell to work as fast as pos- 
 sible; while Bessie Norton whispered 
 to Violet Swan, " What a smart child 
 Lily is, isn't she ? " 
 
 :? Yes," said Violet, in the same 
 tone, "very; and I expect when she is 
 grown up she will do something very 
 remarkable." 
 
 "What?" asked Susy Edwards, 
 who heard them. 
 
 " Be a genius, I expect," answered 
 Violet, solemnly. 
 
 " Oh, how nice! " said Bessie, who 
 had not the least idea what genius 
 meant, but did not like to say so.
 
 92 Daisys Work. 
 
 The pyramid over the sleeping 
 Moses was nearly completed, the lit- 
 tle builders expecting each moment 
 to hear the bell, when Lola Swan, 
 coming with a fresh supply of peb- 
 bles, tripped over a stick which lay 
 upon the grass, and, trying to recover 
 herself, let her load fall around and 
 upon the half-built pyramid, knock- 
 ing down half a dozen or so of the 
 stones which composed it. Not 
 much harm was done, but Susy 
 immediately exclaimed, 
 
 "Goodness gracious! mercy me!" 
 and Lola answered as you have heard 
 in the words which met Daisy's ear 
 as she and General Forster entered 
 the garden. 
 
 The click of the gate-latch caused
 
 Daisy's Sister Flowerets. 93 
 
 all the children to look up, and Moses 
 and the pyramids were for the mo- 
 ment forgotten at the sight of the 
 new scholar. 
 
 " Why ! there's Daisy Forster," said 
 Lily, for Daisy was now known by 
 this name. 
 
 " I wonder if she's coming here to 
 school," said another; and that ques- 
 tion was speedily answered, as, stop- 
 ping by the little group, the General, 
 whom all knew and liked, said, 
 t? Here's a new schoolmate for you. 
 Will you be kind to her, and make 
 her feel at home?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, we will; and I'll take 
 care of her," said Lily, scrambling to 
 her feet and taking Daisy's hand in a 
 patronizing manner. w She won't feel
 
 94 Daisys Work. 
 
 much strange after one day, 'cause 
 we'll all be good to her, and she shall 
 help us make our land of Egypt." 
 
 " Ah I that is what you are doing, 
 is it?" said the General. 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered Lily; "we're 
 just putting a pyramid over Moses in 
 the bulrushes, 'cause we hav'n't time 
 to fix so many bulrushes till recess. 
 And part of it is knocked down. 
 Lola did it, but she didn't mean to, 
 and if you peep in there between 
 those stones you can see a little bit 
 of the ark and Moses' dear little 
 china arm poking up. Please to 
 peek, sir." 
 
 The General did as he was re- 
 quested, saying that he saw Moses 
 quite plainly.
 
 Daisy's Sister Flowerets. 95 
 
 "It is'nt much matter if we do 
 have to leave him now," said Lily; 
 " he's pretty nicely covered up." 
 
 " I think so," said the General, 
 gravely; "and if I were Moses, with 
 a pyramid being built over me, I 
 think I should prefer to have a small 
 breathing-hole left." 
 
 "Why, so he would," said Lily; 
 " and now we can leave him nicely 
 fixed, and play he's very comfortable 
 in his pyramid, even if it's not quite 
 done." 
 
 Lily being satisfied with the fate of 
 Moses, all the rest were so; and the 
 bell now ringing, the little group 
 turned towards the house. Daisy 
 wondering, as well she might, that a 
 matter which was so easily settled
 
 96 Daisy's Work. 
 
 should call for such violent expres- 
 sions of distress and alarm as she 
 had heard from two of the little 
 girls. 
 
 w Why, Miss Collins," said General 
 Forster, as that lady met them at the 
 door, "what a bouquet of flowers you 
 have here! A Rose, a Violet, a 
 Daisy, and a Lily; as choice a nose- 
 gay as one could wish for." 
 
 " And the Lily is going to take care 
 of the Daisy, and make her feel to 
 home, Miss Collins," said Lily, who 
 still held Daisy's hand. " The Gen- 
 eral said I could." 
 
 " No, he didn't," said Susy. 
 
 :? Yes, he did, 'pon my word he 
 did; least I said I would do it, and 
 he didn't say I couldn't: did you,
 
 Daisys Sister Flowerets. 97 
 
 sir?" said Lily, throwing back her 
 head to look up at the General's tall 
 figure. 
 
 " And that comes to the same thing, 
 does it, Lily?" he said, laughing; 
 " well, I suppose it does ; and I promise 
 you shall look after Daisy till she feels 
 no longer a stranger among you." 
 
 " She knows me, and Loly and Vior 
 let, as well as any thing," said Lily; 
 for the little girls had met several 
 times before, and Lily felt herself and 
 the two Swans to be on rather inti- 
 mate terms with Daisy Forster. 
 
 "All right, then. I leave her to 
 you. Good-morning, Miss Collins," 
 and with a bow to the lady, with whom 
 he had before made all the necessary 
 arrangements for Daisy, a pleasant
 
 98 Daisy's Work. 
 
 nod for the little ones, and a kiss for 
 Daisy, he went away. 
 
 Daisy felt rather lonely when he 
 was gone, in spite of Miss Collins' 
 kind look, Lily's tight clasp of the 
 hand, and Violet's, " We have real 
 nice times in school. Don't be afraid." 
 For she was far more shy with chil- 
 dren than she was with grown people, 
 probably because she had never had 
 any companions of her own age; and 
 the number of young faces, most of 
 them strange, about her, made her 
 long to be back again at Mrs. Fors- 
 ter's side. And they all looked at 
 her a good deal, for her story was well 
 known among them, and she was an 
 object of great curiosity. 
 
 Lily observed this, as she took her
 
 Daisy's Sister Flowerets. 99 
 
 seat with Daisy beside her, and 
 thought she must speak up for her 
 charge. 
 
 " Miss Collins," she said, w please to 
 make a rule." 
 
 "Well," said Miss Collins, smiling; 
 for Lily was constantly asking for 
 new rules concerning things which 
 did not suit her. She had begun with 
 this more than a year ago when she 
 was only a visitor at the school; and 
 she was even now not a regular schol- 
 ar, but only coming for a few weeks. 
 For her papa and mamma had gone 
 on a journey, and Lily, being lonely 
 at home when Ella and the boys were 
 at school, it had been arranged that 
 she was to go with Ella in the morn- 
 ing. So she was rather a privileged
 
 ioo Daisy's Work. 
 
 person, and spoke her mind freely 
 concerning that which did not please 
 her, which the other children thought 
 rather a joke, and were generally 
 ready enough to fall in with Lily's 
 rules. So now they all listened. 
 
 w Please to make a rule that nobody 
 must stare, ma'am," said Lily : w it 
 makes people feel so to be stared at," 
 and Lily put up both hands to her 
 cheeks, " specially if they are new." 
 
 "Very true," answered Miss Col- 
 lins: "let us all try to remember the 
 Golden Rule, and then we shall 
 neither stare nor do any thing else 
 to hurt another's feelings." 
 
 Then she struck the little bell which 
 stood upon her table, and all knew 
 that.school had begun, and they must 
 be quiet.
 
 Daisy's Sister Flowerets. 101 
 
 Next calling Bessie Norton to her, 
 Miss Collins gave her a number of 
 Bibles, and the little girl handed one 
 to each of her classmates. Then 
 Miss Collins read a verse aloud, and 
 the children followed, each in her 
 turn. 
 
 " Minnie Grey may take the Bibles," 
 said Miss Collins when this was done. 
 
 Minnie rose, and went from one 
 to another collecting the Bibles. But 
 instead of taking as many as she 
 could conveniently carry at one time, 
 giving them to Miss Collins, and com- 
 ing back for the rest, she went on 
 piling one on top of another, till one 
 arm was quite full, when she came to 
 Daisy and held out her other hand for 
 her book. As she did so, the top one 

 
 102 Daisy's Work. 
 
 of the pile fell to the floor. Minnie 
 stooped for it, and down went two or 
 three more. 
 
 "Oh! bother the old things," said 
 Minnie, in a low voice, but very impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 Daisy had stooped to help her pick 
 up the Bibles, but the glow her cheeks 
 wore when she raised her head again 
 was not all owing to that. 
 
 Bother the old things ! What old 
 things ? Why, the Bibles, God's own 
 Holy Word. 
 
 Daisy was very much shocked, and 
 she looked up at Miss Collins, expect- 
 ing to hear her reprove such wicked 
 words, she thought them. 
 
 But Miss Collins had not heard 
 Minnie's exclamation, though the
 
 Daisy's Sister Flowerets. 103 
 
 noise of the falling books had called 
 her attention that way, and she said, 
 
 "Minnie, my dear, you are care- 
 less with those Bibles: do you forget 
 whose books they are ? " 
 
 " I don't care," muttered Minnie, 
 but not so that the lady could hear. 
 Daisy heard again; and the thought 
 passed through her mind, " What a 
 wicked little girl Minnie must be!" 
 
 And yet Daisy was mistaken. If 
 she had asked Minnie's parents, 
 teacher, or playmates, they would all 
 have told her that Minnie was an un- 
 commonly good and pleasant little 
 girl; truthful, obedient, industrious, 
 and generous and obliging towards 
 others. She had no thought now that 
 she was breaking one of God's com-
 
 104 
 
 Daisy's Work. 
 
 mandments ; and she would have been 
 both offended and grieved, if she had 
 known what was in Daisy's mind, 
 believing herself, as she did, to be in- 
 nocent of any wrong.
 
 DAISY AT STUDY.
 
 V. 
 
 DAISY AT STUDY. 
 
 1P\AISY was soon at home with her 
 schoolmates, and a great favorite 
 among them. 
 
 It was not strange that they liked 
 and were interested in her. She was 
 such a gentle, modest, amiable little 
 girl; watching and joining in the 
 games and lessons of the others with 
 a kind of innocent wonder which 
 amused and touched them all. For 
 Daisy was not at all accustomed to be 
 with children of her own age, and 
 their ways were all new to her.
 
 io8 Daisy s Work. 
 
 And of course she was behind all 
 the rest in her studies. She could 
 not even read as well as Lily Ward ; 
 and had to begin with the simplest 
 lessons, such as Lily and two or three 
 of the very youngest children learned. 
 At first this troubled her, and she 
 feared the rest of the class would 
 laugh at her. 
 
 But she soon found she need not 
 have been afraid of that, for the rule 
 of Miss Collins' infant class was the 
 law of kindness; and any one of the 
 little girls would have thought it 
 almost a crime to laugh or mock at 
 Daisy, for that which was her mis- 
 fortune and not her fault. 
 
 They might now and then fall out 
 a little among themselves, for they
 
 Daisy at Study. 109 
 
 were by no means perfect children ; 
 sometimes there would be some self- 
 ishness shown, or even a few angry 
 words pass from one to another; but, 
 on the whole, they agreed about as 
 well as any twenty little girls could 
 be expected to do ; and not one 
 among them would have had the 
 heart purposely to do an unkind thing 
 to another. Least of all to Daisy 
 Forster, whom they all looked upon 
 with a kind of tender pity and inter- 
 est, because of her sad and romantic 
 history; and who was at once taken 
 up by both teacher and scholars as 
 a sort of twin pet with Lily, for 
 whom allowances were to be made, 
 and who was to be encouraged and 
 aided as much as possible. 
 
 10
 
 no Daisy's Work. 
 
 So Daisy found plenty of helpers, 
 who, so far from laughing at her mis- 
 takes and backwardness, were rather 
 inclined to think her quick and indus- 
 trious, as indeed she was, trying hard 
 to make up for lost time, and " catch 
 up " with those of her own age. 
 
 She was almost too eager about 
 this, and had to be checked now and 
 then, for since the long illness which 
 had followed the shipwreck, Daisy 
 had never been strong; and too much 
 fatigue or study, or even too much 
 play, would make her nervous and 
 sick, and her little head would be- 
 come confused and ache. So now 
 and then Mrs. Forster would have 
 to take the books from her, and for- 
 bid more study, sending her out to
 
 Daisy at Study. 1 1 1 
 
 play, or to work in the plot of ground 
 which had been given her for a gar- 
 den of her own. 
 
 She was not always pleased at this, 
 and sometimes would be rather fret- 
 ful and impatient. But Mrs. Forster 
 soon found a way to put a stop to 
 this. 
 
 One afternoon she found the little 
 girl bending over her slate with 
 flushed and heated cheeks, anxious 
 eyes, and trembling hands. 
 
 "Daisy," she said, quietly, "what 
 are you doing? Miss Collins has 
 not given you lessons out of school, 
 has she ? " 
 
 "No, ma'am," said Daisy; "but 
 I asked Ella Ward to set me a whole 
 lot of sums so that I could do them
 
 H2 Daisy's Work. 
 
 at home, and I can't make this one 
 come right. I know it is not right, 
 'cause Ella put the answers on the 
 other side of the slate, and mine 
 won't come the same, all I can do." 
 
 Mrs. Forster took the slate from 
 her hand. 
 
 "This sum is too hard for you, 
 Daisy," she said : " you do not know 
 enough arithmetic for this." 
 
 " It is not any harder than the sums 
 Lola and Violet and the other girls 
 as large as I am do," answered Daisy, 
 looking ready to burst out crying; 
 "and I have to do arithmetic with 
 the very little ones, like Lily, and it 
 makes me ashamed ; so I want to go 
 on all I can. Please give me the 
 slate again, Aunt Gertrude," she add-
 
 Daisy at Study. 113 
 
 ed, as Mrs. Forster laid it beyond her 
 reach. 
 
 " No, dear. I do not wish you to 
 study out of school. I am glad you 
 want to improve, but you have as 
 much to do there as is good for you ; 
 and at home I want you to have rest 
 and play. You are improving quite 
 as fast as could be expected, and for 
 a time you must be content to go on 
 with those who are younger than 
 yourself." 
 
 "But it makes me ashamed," plead- 
 ed Daisy, again. 
 
 " There is no reason for that," said 
 Mrs. Forster, patting the hot cheek 
 she raised towards her. "The other 
 children do not laugh at you and 
 make you uncomfortable, do they ? " 
 
 10*
 
 H4 Daisy's Work. 
 
 " Oh, no, ma'am," said Daisy; "they 
 are all so good to me, and when they 
 can't help seeing what a dunce I am " 
 (here Daisy's tears overflowed), "they 
 always say kind things about how I 
 never went to school before, and how 
 my own dear mamma was drowned, 
 and there was nobody to teach me 
 till I came to you." 
 
 t? You are not a dunce, dear," said 
 the lady. " A child who idles away 
 her time when she should be study- 
 ing, and does not care whether or no 
 she learns as much as is fit for her, 
 is a dunce: not a little girl who really 
 wishes to be industrious, but does not 
 know quite as much as others of her 
 own age only because God has not 
 given her the same advantages in
 
 Daisy at Study. 115 
 
 time past. No one will think my 
 Daisy a dunce. Now, we must have 
 no more studying at home, no more 
 lessons than those Miss Collins sets 
 you." 
 
 Daisy did not look satisfied: on 
 the contrary, she even pouted a little. 
 
 " Daisy," said Mrs. Forster, " sup- 
 pose Uncle Frank were to give you 
 some beautiful and costly thing 
 which would be of great use to you 
 in time to come if you took good care 
 of it, say a watch: what would you 
 do with it?" 
 
 :? Why ! I would take great care, 
 oh ! such care of it," said Daisy, open- 
 ing her eyes in some surprise at the 
 question. She did not see what that 
 could have to do with her studies.
 
 n6 Daisy's Work. 
 
 w I'd wind it up every night, and 
 try to keep it right and safe every 
 way I could. But I don't know if I 
 am quite large enough to have a 
 watch of my own, or take care of it ; 
 maybe the best way would be to ask 
 you or Uncle Frank to keep it for 
 me till I was older." 
 
 w And suppose for a while he gave 
 you no key to this watch, but let it 
 run down and be quiet ? " 
 
 " I'd just put it away till he gave 
 me a key, and be patient about it," 
 said Daisy, wondering more and 
 more. 
 
 w And if, by and by, when he gave 
 you this key, you should go on wind- 
 ing and winding the watch farther and 
 faster than it was right for it to go,
 
 Daisy at Study. 117 
 
 till the wheels and springs were all 
 spoiled and out of order, would Uncle 
 Frank think you cared much for his 
 gift?" 
 
 " Why, no, Aunt Gertrude ; and he 
 wouldn't think I cared much for him, 
 either, to use his pretty present so." 
 
 "You are right, dear. And now 
 I want my own little Daisy to see 
 how it is with herself. God has 
 given to you a young mind, bright 
 and quick enough; but, for a while, 
 He did not choose that it should do 
 much work. But now He has given 
 you the key by which you may wind 
 it and set it to work ; and if you use 
 it without proper care, and so as to 
 hurt and wear out this precious gift, 
 would it not seem as if you cared
 
 u8 Daisys Work. 
 
 very little about it, and did not re- 
 spect and honor the Giver?" 
 
 "Yes'm," answered Daisy, begin- 
 ning to see what Mrs. Forster meant ; 
 " but I never thought about that." 
 
 " I believe I never thought about 
 it before, dear," said Mrs. Forster, 
 smiling. " I am not afraid to praise 
 you, Daisy; and I may safely say that 
 I have never seen any little child who 
 showed such true honor and rever- 
 ence for her Maker, and all which be- 
 longs to Him. You must have been 
 well taught, my child ; and to know 
 and remember such lessons is worth 
 all the book learning in the world." 
 
 Daisy was pleased, as she always 
 was when any one spoke to her of 
 her long-lost home, or praised the
 
 Daisy at Study. 119 
 
 teaching she had received from those 
 who had loved and cared for her 
 there. And from this time there was 
 no further trouble about the lessons; 
 for it was enough for Daisy to know 
 that she was misusing any one of 
 God's good gifts, to make her change 
 her ways. Many a lesson might 
 have been learned, and, indeed, had 
 been learned, by those older and wiser 
 than herself, from the loving care and 
 respect paid by this little one to her 
 Creator's name, and to all the works 
 of His hand. 
 
 And it was a great trouble to her to 
 hear the careless way in which many 
 of her schoolmates used sacred names 
 and things. They did not mean any 
 harm; they did not think it any sin;
 
 I2O Daisy's Work. 
 
 but every day Daisy was shocked 
 and distressed by hearing such words 
 as " mercy," " gracious," " goodness," 
 and "good heavens," and the like, 
 from the lips of the other children, as 
 they were about their play and study. 
 It had become a habit with nearly all in 
 the school ; one caught it from another 
 almost without knowing it; even 
 Lily Ward, who once thought the 
 clergyman "preached a sermon at 
 her " because she said " hush up," 
 now and then followed the example 
 of the others when any thing vexed 
 or surprised her. A few weeks at 
 school had accustomed Lily to the 
 constant use of expressions which a 
 year ago she would have considered 
 " real naughty words."
 
 Daisy at Study. 121 
 
 The older girls in Miss Sarah Col- 
 lins' room had fallen into this bad 
 habit as much, if not more, than the 
 little ones of the infant class. 
 
 And it was not only this careless- 
 ness of speech in which they were all, 
 large and small, to blame; but it 
 seemed to Daisy so strange that they 
 could handle and treat the Bible, 
 God's holy Word, with so little rever- 
 ence and respect, knocking it about 
 among their other books as if it were 
 no better than these last, even using 
 it, sometimes, for purposes to which 
 no book, even the most common one, 
 should be put. 
 
 Daisy wondered that Miss Collins 
 did not teach them better ; but either 
 
 she did not notice all this, or she did not 
 ii
 
 122 Daisy's Work. 
 
 think it of much consequence; cer- 
 tain it is that she did not check them, 
 and the evil seemed to Daisy to grow 
 worse from day to day. 
 
 At first she did not like to speak 
 herself. You may wonder that this 
 was so, since she had not feared to 
 speak so plainly to General Forster, 
 who was a grown gentleman, so much 
 older than herself; but she had done 
 that almost without knowing what she 
 was saying, for, as you know, his pro- 
 fane words had startled her so that he 
 was surprised, and he had almost 
 forced her to tell him what had dis- 
 turbed her. 
 
 And here she was with every thing 
 strange around her, school, school- 
 mates, and teacher all new to her; so
 
 Daisy at Study. 123 
 
 it is not astonishing that she was 
 rather shy and felt afraid to interfere 
 with the others, or to tell them that 
 she thought they were doing wrong. 
 
 But by and by there came a day 
 when she could no longer hold her 
 peace.
 
 DAISY A TEACHER.
 
 VI. 
 
 DAISY A TEACHER. 
 
 morning just after school 
 commenced, a heavy shower 
 came up; and when it was time for 
 the recess, which was always given to 
 the infant class at eleven o'clock, the 
 ground was still so wet that the little 
 ones were forced to find amusement 
 within doors or upon the piazza. 
 
 " What shall we play ? " asked 
 Rosie Pierson. 
 
 " Lady Queen Fair," said Bessie 
 Norton: "we'll go out on the piazza 
 and play it."
 
 128 Daisy's Work. 
 
 "Yes," said Violet; w and Lily 
 shall be Lady Queen Fair, and we'll 
 dress her up a little. Miss Emily," 
 as a third Miss Collins, who gave 
 music lessons to the girls, passed by, 
 " may we have a rose to put in Lily's 
 hair for Lady Fair ? " 
 
 The young lady smiled, stopped 
 and pulled a couple of roses from the 
 vine which wound itself around one 
 of the pillars of the piazza, and gave 
 them to Violet, then passed on. 
 
 Time had been when Violet would 
 have hoped, perhaps would have asked 
 to be Lady Fair herself, and been 
 sulky and displeased if the other 
 children had not agreed; but now she 
 was very different, and more apt to 
 prefer another before herself.
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 129 
 
 The roses were soon arranged, the 
 one in the hair, the other in the bosom 
 of the little Lady Queen, who took 
 her dignities in the calmest manner. 
 Meanwhile some of the other children 
 were drawing forward one of the rus- 
 tic chairs with which the piazza was 
 furnished, to serve as a throne. 
 
 But the little queen, like many 
 another royal lady before her, found 
 her throne by no means an easy 
 one. 
 
 "Ow!" she said, rubbing her little 
 round white shoulders where she had 
 scratched them against the rough bark 
 of the twisted boughs which made the 
 back of the chair, "ow! this is not 
 nice at all, or comfortal. My feet 
 don't come to the floor, and if I lean
 
 130 Daisy's Work. 
 
 back I'm all scratched. I'd rather be 
 a queen without a throne." 
 
 " Oh, no ! You must have a throne," 
 said Susy Edwards. " Queens have 
 to." 
 
 " I don't see why," said Lily, rather 
 pettishly; for she did not feel very 
 well that morning, and that and the 
 close heat of the day made her more 
 fretful than usual. "I should think 
 queens could do just as they have a 
 mind to and make their subjiks do it 
 too; and I don't see what they have 
 to have their skin all scraped up for 
 if they dont want to;" and Lily 
 twisted her head to give an aggrieved 
 look at the little fat shoulder with that 
 red mark upon it. 
 
 I'll fix you," said Lola. I'll put
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 131 
 
 Miss Collins' footstool under your 
 feet and you shall have the big cush- 
 ion behind you. Some one bring the 
 cushion while I carry the stool." 
 
 The footstool was brought in a 
 moment; but the cushion was not to 
 be found. 
 
 :? The big girls had it yesterday," 
 said Fanny Satterlee. " I saw them 
 with it in their recess when I was 
 going home. There comes Cora 
 Prime now ; let's ask her. Cora, 
 what did the big girls do with that 
 cushion yesterday when they had done 
 with it?" 
 
 "The Lord knows; I don't," said 
 Cora, playfully tapping Fanny on the 
 head with the roll of music in her 
 hand.
 
 132 Daisy's Work. 
 
 w Oh ! " exclaimed Lily. 
 
 Daisy did not speak; but as Cora's 
 eye happened to fall upon her, her 
 face said as much as Lily's " Oh ! " 
 
 " What's the matter with you two ? " 
 asked Cora, looking from one to the 
 other of the little girls, but still good- 
 natured. 
 
 "You oughtn't to say that," said 
 Lily. 
 
 " Ought not to say what ? " 
 
 w The Lord knows," answered Lily. 
 
 "Well, don't He know?" asked 
 Cora. 
 
 w No," said Lily, doubtfully, "I guess 
 not. I don't believe He'd bother 
 Himself with knowing about a worn- 
 out old cushion what has a hole in 
 the cover, and such things."
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 133 
 
 "Yes, He does, too," said Cora, 
 laughing; "are not the very hairs of 
 our head numbered ? " 
 
 "Now, I know you ought to be 
 'shamed," said Lily. :r You're talk- 
 ing Bible ; and that is not right, is it, 
 Daisy?" 
 
 " No," said Daisy, as boldly as Lily 
 herself could have done, for quoting 
 Scripture in a careless manner was 
 also a habit of many in the school. 
 
 "You two saucy monkeys ! correct- 
 ing your elders," said Cora, much 
 amused. " I heard you both talking 
 Bible to Miss Collins this morning 
 with all the rest of your class." 
 
 "We were only saying what we 
 learned in Sunday school yesterday," 
 said Lily. "That's not the same 
 
 12
 
 134 Daisys Work. 
 
 thing. I know it's not right to talk 
 Bible that kind of a way. Papa says 
 so, and he tells us not to do it." 
 
 "Your papa's saying so does not 
 make a thing right or wrong/' said 
 Cora. 
 
 :? Yes, it does, too ! " said Lily. 
 " My papa knows a whole lot, and he 
 wouldn't tell a story for any thing. 
 Cora, you'd better go to your music 
 lesson : I 'speck Miss Emily wants 
 you." 
 
 w Oh, you are very considerate for 
 Miss Emily, all at once," said Cora, 
 more amused than ever; "but you 
 haven't told me why I shouldn't say, 
 The Lord knows, when He does 
 know." 
 
 Lily looked at Daisy, who stood
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 135 
 
 by the arm of her chair, for help. 
 The little one felt that Cora was 
 wrong, but she did not exactly know 
 how to answer, and she had noticed 
 how careful Daisy was to honor the 
 name of God. 
 
 " Is it not taking the name of God 
 in vain?" said Daisy. 
 
 :? Upon my word ! " said Cora. 
 "Do you mean to call that swear- 
 
 ing?" 
 
 "Well, yes," said Lily, taking up 
 the word, " a kind of baby swearing, 
 I s'pose ; but you know it's not very 
 good of you, Cora." 
 
 "Everybody says such things: they 
 don't mean any thing," said Cora. 
 
 "Not everybody? answered Lily. 
 " Daisy don't."
 
 136 Daisy's Work. 
 
 w Then Daisy's uncommonly good," 
 said Cora. 
 
 :? Yes, she is," replied Lily ; K and 
 I s'pose everybody ought to be uncom- 
 monly good and never say them." 
 
 Cora laughed again. 
 
 w Everybody must mind their p's 
 and q's before you : mustn't they, 
 Lily?" and away she ran to her music 
 lesson. 
 
 " Here's the cushion," said Rosie 
 Pierson, running out from the school- 
 room. w I found it in the closet under 
 the shelf where those careless big girls 
 left it, I s'pose." 
 
 The cushion was put behind Lily's 
 shoulders, but still the little queen 
 fidgeted on her throne and declared 
 she was not yet " comfortal."
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 137 
 
 * 'Cause if I lean back against the 
 cushion my feet won't touch the stool," 
 she said. 
 
 :? We'll put something else on the 
 stool to make it higher," said Nettie 
 Prime, who was trying to arrange 
 Lily satisfactorily: "what shall we 
 take ? Oh, I know. Daisy, run 
 and bring the big Bible off Miss 
 Collins' table for Lily to put her feet 
 on." 
 
 Daisy, who made a motion to start 
 forward as Nettie began to speak, 
 stood still when she heard what she 
 called for. 
 
 "Make haste," said the latter, im- 
 patiently : " we won't have a bit of 
 time to play." 
 
 Daisy did not move, but stood with 
 
 12*
 
 138 Daisy's Work. 
 
 rising color, trying to make up her 
 mind to speak. 
 
 " Oh! you disobliging thing! " said 
 Violet, and she ran for the book. 
 
 " Oh ! don't," said Daisy, as Violet 
 came back and stooped to put the 
 Bible on the footstool; " I didn't mean 
 to be disobliging, but we ought not to 
 use the Bible to play with." 
 
 "Pooh!" said Violet: "Lily's little 
 feet won't hurt it. It's all worn out, 
 any way. The cover is real shab- 
 by." 
 
 "I didn't mean that," answered 
 Daisy; "I meant because it is God's 
 book, and we ought to treat it very 
 carefully." 
 
 " Oh, fiddle ! How awfully particu- 
 lar.you are, Daisy!" said Minnie Grey.
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 139 
 
 rr Why, girls, do you know, the other 
 day, when I was playing paper-dolls 
 with her and I turned up a Bible to 
 make the side of a house, she took it 
 away, and when I put it back again 
 'cause it stood up better than the other 
 books, she said she wouldn't play if I 
 did so with the Bible." 
 
 " I s'pose Daisy would call that 
 ' taking God's name in vain,' ' : said 
 another, half reproachfully; " wouldn't 
 you, Daisy? " 
 
 " I think it is something the same," 
 answered Daisy, feeling as if all the 
 others were finding fault with her and 
 thinking her "awfully particular," a 
 crime which no little girl likes to have 
 laid to her charge. 
 
 " I don't see how," said Lola. " I
 
 140 Daisys Work. 
 
 know we ought not to play with the 
 Bible; but I don't see how it is taking 
 God's name in vain." 
 
 " But the Bible is God's book, and 
 He told it to the men who wrote it, and 
 His name is in it a great many times," 
 said Daisy, " and I think it seems like 
 taking it in vain to play with it or to 
 put things upon it, or to knock it about 
 like our other school-books. And it is 
 not right to say r the Lord knows,' and 
 f mercy,' and ? gracious,' and such 
 words, when we are just playing, or 
 when we are provoked." 
 
 :? What is the harm? " asked Rosie. 
 " Mercy and gracious are not God's 
 name." 
 
 t? Well, no," said Daisy, slowly, not 
 exactly knowing how to explain her-
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 141 
 
 self. " And maybe I make a mistake; 
 but it does seem to me as if it was a 
 kind of of " 
 
 " Of little swearing, as Lily says," 
 said Lola. 
 
 * Yes," said Daisy. " Rosie thinks 
 it is no harm; but even if it is not 
 much harm, I don't see what is the 
 good of it. We can talk just as well 
 without saying such words." 
 
 " I guess they are pretty wicked," 
 said Lily. ;? The day mamma went 
 away, I said 'good heavens,' and she 
 said 'Lily! Lily!' very quick, like 
 she does when I do something very 
 naughty, and she asked me where I 
 learned that; and I told her Elly said 
 it. I didn't mean to tell a tale about 
 Elly; but mamma looked sorry, and
 
 142 Daisy's Work. 
 
 she told me never to say it again. I 
 guess ? mercy ' is 'most the same, and 
 I guess I won't say it any more; and, 
 Daisy, if I hear the other girls say 
 those words, I'll help you correct 
 'em." 
 
 Lily promised this with an air of 
 such grave importance that the other 
 children laughed. Not in the least 
 abashed, Lily went on, 
 
 " Papa's coming home day after to- 
 morrow, and I'll ask him to tell me a 
 whole lot about God's name, and why 
 it is wrong to say those things ; and 
 then I'll tell all you girls. But I'm 
 not coming to school any more w r hen 
 mamma comes home ; so you'll have 
 to come to my house, and I'll have a 
 swearing class, and teach you all about 
 it."
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 143 
 
 Lily's words might have been taken 
 with a different meaning from that 
 which she intended to give them; but 
 the other children understood her, and 
 that was enough. 
 
 " But, Daisy," said Lola, " how do 
 you know so much about these things 
 when you don't know a great deal 
 about every-day lessons, and have 
 had no one to teach you for so 
 long?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Daisy. "I 
 think my own mamma who was 
 drowned used to teach me in the 
 home I used to have; " and the dreamy 
 look came into her eyes which they 
 always wore when she spoke of her 
 far-away home and those she had 
 loved there. w I think I've forgotten
 
 144 Daisy's Work. 
 
 a good many things," she added ; 
 "but you know I couldn't forget what 
 mamma taught me about Jesus and 
 what He wanted us to do if we loved 
 Him. And I think if we do love 
 Him we won't say words about His 
 name, His heaven, or any thing that is 
 His, that are not very good and gentle, 
 and that we are very sure He would 
 like us to say." 
 
 "But you are so very particular, 
 Daisy," said Minnie; K I think you 
 are most too particular." 
 
 " I didn't think we could be too 
 particular about doing what Jesus 
 likes," said Daisy. 
 
 The other children had all gath- 
 ered about Daisy, and were listening 
 with interest to what she said. Per-
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 145 
 
 haps they heard her with more pa- 
 tience than they would have given to 
 any one else ; for Daisy was a kind of 
 mystery to them, and they looked 
 upon her as a sort of fairy or princess 
 in disguise, and would not have been 
 at all surprised to hear the most ex- 
 travagant stories about her, for she 
 was "just like a story-book child." 
 Lily had said so one day when she 
 was speaking of her at home. 
 
 "No," said Lola, thoughtfully; "but 
 it does not seem as if such little things 
 could be wrong. I know it can't be 
 right to play with the Bible or say its 
 words just when we are joking or for 
 our own common talk; but I don't see 
 the harm of saying 'goodness/ or 
 ' mercy/ or * heavens,' or those words 
 13
 
 146 Daisy's Work. 
 
 which you never will say, Daisy; they 
 are not God's name, and I don't see 
 how it is taking it in vain to say 
 them." 
 
 Daisy looked thoughtful. She felt 
 she was right, and wanted to explain 
 herself; but she was rather shy and 
 could not find words to do so. 
 
 But Lily, whom shyness never 
 troubled, came to her aid. 
 
 " Never mind," she said : " I'll ask 
 papa just as soon as he comes home, 
 and he'll tell us all about it; and if 
 he says it is naughty, why, it is, and 
 we won't do it; and if he says it's 
 good enough, why, we will. That's 
 the way to fix it." 
 
 Here the bell rang. 
 
 w There, now," said Susy Edwards,
 
 Daisy a Teacher. 147 
 
 "we have to go in, and we've wasted all 
 our time talking, and never had a bit 
 of good of our recess." 
 
 But I think Susy was mistaken, 
 and that they had one and all gained 
 more good from their talk than they 
 could have done from any amount of 
 play; for it had set more than one 
 young mind thinking; and from this 
 day, even the most careless among 
 them would check herself when she 
 found she was on the point of using 
 these words which had grown so com- 
 mon among them, more from want of 
 thought than from any wish or tempta- 
 tion to do wrong.
 
 THE SWEARING CLASS.
 
 VII. 
 
 THE SWEARING CLASS. 
 
 Lily's papa and mamma 
 came home, she was so glad to 
 see them, and there was so much to 
 hear and to talk about, that she quite 
 forgot her purpose of asking her father 
 to teach her about the third command- 
 ment. Besides, she no longer went 
 to school now that her mother was at 
 home, but had her lesson each day 
 with her as she had done before Mrs. 
 Ward went on her journey; and so she 
 was not as apt to hear or to say those
 
 152 Daisy's Work. 
 
 t 
 careless words which Daisy Forster 
 
 had said it was not right to use. 
 
 But it was at last brought to her 
 mind one evening as the family all sat 
 at the tea-table. 
 
 " Mamma," said Ella, " will you let 
 Lily and me have a tea-party to-mor- 
 row? I want to ask half a dozen of 
 our girls, and I suppose Lily would 
 like to have a few of the little ones at 
 the same time." 
 
 :? Yes," answered Mrs. Ward, " you 
 may each ask six of your most intimate 
 friends." 
 
 " Can Walter and I ask some of the 
 fellows ? " said Ned. 
 
 "Oh, mercy! no," said Ella: "we 
 don't want any boys. It is not to be a 
 regular party, Ned. I just want the
 
 The Swearing Class. 153 
 
 girls to spend the afternoon and drink 
 tea; and it makes more fuss to have 
 boys too." 
 
 "Goodness me! You needn't get 
 into such a way about it," said Ned. 
 
 w Children," said Lily, her brother's 
 and sister's words bringing back to 
 her what Daisy had said, " children, 
 you needn't either of you swear about 
 it." 
 
 Lily's efforts to keep the family 
 straight were generally considered as 
 a good joke, and her reproofs and 
 advice received with a laugh; but 
 this plain speaking was rather too 
 much for either Ella or Ned, and the 
 former exclaimed, 
 
 :? Well, who is swearing, I'd like to 
 know ? "
 
 154 Daisy's Work. 
 
 " And who gave you leave to cor- 
 rect your elders ? " said Ned. 
 
 " Nobody: I just took it," said una- 
 bashed Lily; and then, turning to her 
 father, she exclaimed, " Papa, I b'lieve 
 the girls in our school are pretty hea- 
 then, and don't know enough about 
 the comman'ments. So I told them 
 we'd have a swearing class, and I'd ask 
 you to teach it, 'cause I s'pose you 
 know a good deal about swearing; 
 and this will be a good chance when 
 they come to-morrow." 
 
 This speech turned the vexation of 
 Ella and Ned into amusement, and 
 they laughed with the others. 
 
 w I don't think your playmates will 
 thank you for asking them here to take 
 tea and then bringing them up for a
 
 The Swearing Class. 155 
 
 lecture from me, my pet," said Mr. 
 Ward. 
 
 " Yes : they will, papa. They want 
 to know about it, and I think we'd 
 better make a swearing party of this. 
 I b'lieve it would do those big girls 
 good too. They swear, oh, dreadfully ! 
 and they don't seem to think they do, 
 least Cora don't. Mamma, let's make 
 a rule we won't have any swearing in 
 this house: won't you?" 
 
 " Certainly," said mamma, smiling; 
 " and I think we must find out what 
 swearingis, and be.careful notto break 
 the rule." 
 
 w If one is going to call ' goodness ' 
 and ? mercy,' and such things, swear- 
 ing, one might as well give up talking 
 altogether," said Ella'.
 
 156 Daisy's Work. 
 
 "Perhaps not exactly swearing," 
 said her father; "but the use of them 
 is a bad habit, and one that I have 
 noticed is quite too frequent among 
 all the young people of this place. 
 It is growing stronger too, as all 
 such habits do, and going from bad 
 to worse. But I must go out now, 
 and have not time to talk to you about 
 it. If Lily can persuade her little 
 friends to take the f swearing class,' 
 as part of their afternoon's entertain- 
 ment to-morrow, well and good; if 
 not, we will have a. little private talk 
 among ourselves some other time." 
 
 Ella was not at all pleased by Lily's 
 proposal; and hoping that it would 
 pass from the child's mind before the 
 afternoon, she was careful not to make
 
 The Swearing Class. 1 5 7 
 
 her remember it by the use of any 
 such words as had called forth Lily's 
 reproof. 
 
 This had very nearly proved suc- 
 cessful; and in the excitement of ar- 
 ranging her baby-house, setting out 
 the new tea-set mamma had brought 
 her, and dressing the doll which had 
 been papa's present, Lily had almost 
 forgotten her plan for mingling whole- 
 some instruction with the amusement 
 provided for her young friends. 
 
 There were Lola and Violet Swan, 
 Daisy Forster, Rosie Pierson, Minnie 
 Grey, and Bessie Norton ; and they 
 were all having a real good time sit- 
 ting around a small table and playing 
 tea out of the new china set, when 
 Minnie said, 
 
 14
 
 158 Daisy's Work. 
 
 " I have a secret to tell all of you, 
 if you'll promise never to tell." 
 
 " I won't," said Violet. 
 
 " On your sacred word and honor?" 
 said Minnie. 
 
 " On my sacred word and honor," 
 repeated Violet. 
 
 "And you, Rosie?" asked Minnie. 
 
 " On my word and honor," said 
 Rosie. 
 
 " Sacred ? " said Minnie. 
 
 " Sacred. Sacred word and hon- 
 or," was Rosie's answer. 
 
 Lily repeated the words as desired, 
 and next came Daisy's turn. 
 
 "I won't tell," she said, when Min- 
 nie looked at her. 
 
 "On your sacred word and honor? " 
 asked Minnie.
 
 The Swearing Class. 159 
 
 "I promise I won't tell, Minnie." 
 
 " But you must say on your word 
 and honor." 
 
 " I can't," said Daisy. 
 
 " Then I shan't tell you; and you're 
 real mean, Daisy Forster," said Min- 
 nie. "Why won't you say so?" 
 
 "I don't see why I need, and I 
 don't know if it is quite right," an- 
 swered Daisy, coloring. 
 
 " Oh, Daisy Forster, what a girl 
 you are ! " said Rosie. 
 
 "Well," said Lily, "there's noth- 
 ing left, f cept these two caramels. 
 Daisy, you eat up this; and, Bessie, 
 you eat up the other. Now the tea- 
 party is all done, and we'll go and 
 ask papa about that comman'ment. 
 He's been playing croquet with the
 
 160 Daisy's Work. 
 
 big girls, but they seem to be resting 
 now." 
 
 Lily was right. Mr. Ward had 
 been persuaded to make the eighth 
 in a game of croquet, for he was a 
 great favorite with all the young 
 people in Glenwood, and his presence 
 never put any check upon their games 
 or pleasure parties. 
 
 But the afternoon proved rather 
 warm for exercise, even the gentle 
 one of bewitching croquet; and, after 
 a long game was finished, the whole 
 party were ready to agree to Ella's 
 proposal that they should take a rest, 
 and send to the house for some cool- 
 ing drink. 
 
 So Mr. Ward was at liberty to at- 
 tend to Lily, when she came rushing
 
 The Swearing Class. 161 
 
 up to him, followed, rather more 
 slowly, by the rest of the children. 
 
 " Papa," she said, throwing herself 
 across his knee, as he sat upon the 
 green mound which was raised about 
 the foot of one of the fine elm-trees 
 which shaded the croquet-ground, 
 " papa, Daisy says we oughtn't to say 
 upon our words and honors ! Ought- 
 n't we ? And will you teach us about 
 taking God's name in vain now? It's 
 the singalest circumstance, but I went 
 and forgot all about the swearing 
 class, till Daisy said that." 
 
 "A very singular circumstance, 
 certainly;" said Mr. Ward, lifting 
 Lily to a seat upon his knee, and 
 smiling, while the other girls laughed 
 at her speech. ?t I am quite willing 
 
 14*
 
 1 62 Daisy's Work. 
 
 to have a little talk with you all on 
 this subject; but tell me first what 
 you want to know." 
 
 " Daisy is so awfully particular, 
 Mr. Ward," said Minnie, in an ag- 
 grieved tone. " She won't let us say 
 any thing ; at least, she says every 
 thing is f wrong.' ' : 
 
 "Every thing?" said Mr. Ward: 
 w that is bad. Does Daisy want you 
 all to keep silence? That must spoil 
 your play." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Minnie, w not that ; 
 but she says such lots of things are 
 wrong to say. Why, sir, she won't 
 say ? upon her word and honor,' 'cause 
 she don't think it is right." 
 
 :? Why do you want her to say it?" 
 asked Mr. Ward.
 
 The Swearing Class. 163 
 
 w I was just going to tell them all 
 a great secret, and I wanted her to 
 promise, on her sacred word and 
 honor, she would never tell; and she 
 wouldn't do it." 
 
 " So Daisy is apt to break her prom- 
 ises, is she ? " said the gentleman, 
 with a smile at Daisy, which told very 
 plainly that he was only joking. 
 
 " Oh, no, sir ! " said Minnie. w In- 
 deed she is not. Daisy always tells 
 the truth, and never does what she 
 says she won't; at least, we never 
 knew her to do it: did we, girls? " 
 
 A chorus of young voices was 
 raised in Daisy's favor. 
 
 " And yet you cannot trust her un- 
 less she swears to what she promises," 
 said Mr. Ward.
 
 164 Daisy's Work. 
 
 " Swears, sir !" said Minnie. f? Fm 
 sure I don't want her to swear! 
 'Word and honor' are not bad words, 
 are they ? " 
 
 w Not in themselves, certainly ; " 
 answered Mr. Ward. w Many a thing 
 which is good in itself when properly 
 used, becomes bad and hurtful if put 
 to a wrong purpose. Now to swear 
 is to say, by some word or person 
 which you consider holy and sacred, 
 that you will or will not do, that you 
 have or have not done, a certain thing. 
 Suppose some man were accused of 
 a crime, and that the judge were 
 about to try him, and punish him if 
 he were guilty, and it was thought 
 that I knew whether or no the man 
 had done that of which he was ac-
 
 The Swearing Class. 165 
 
 cused. So I am called to the court, 
 and there made to promise that I will 
 tell the truth, and nothing but the 
 truth; and to make sure of this I am 
 made to lay my hand on the Bible, 
 God's holy word, and call upon 
 Him, to hear me tell what I know. 
 And this is considered a very solemn 
 thing, even by many who have little 
 care or respect for God in other ways ; 
 and it is called swearing, or taking 
 the oath." 
 
 "They ought to be 'shamed of their- 
 selves," said Lily, indignantly ; " they 
 ought to know you would never tell a 
 story, papa. And to go and make you 
 swear too ! I wouldn't do it if I was 
 you ; but I'd tell 'em the third com- 
 man'ment, and run away fast from 
 them."
 
 1 66 Daisys Work. 
 
 " But if this is done in the fear of 
 God, and as a sort of prayer that He 
 will hear and help us to tell that 
 which is true, it is not taking His 
 name in vain, Lily," said Mr. Ward ; 
 "and to do it falsely is considered even 
 by men to be a great crime. This is 
 called perjury; and if any one is found 
 guilty of it, he is severely punished by 
 the law. Now it may be wise, and 
 even necessary, for a man to take an 
 oath at such a time as this, when the 
 very life of another may depend on 
 whether he tells the truth or no; but 
 it can hardly be necessary for one 
 little girl at play with another to 
 make her promise sure by swearing 
 to it. For to say ? by your sacred 
 word and honor ' is neither more nor
 
 The Swearing Class. 167 
 
 less than a sort of swearing or taking 
 an oath that what you say is true." 
 
 "Then we'll make a rule not to 
 say it any more," said Lily. "We 
 didn't know it was naughty before, 
 papa. But please tell us now about 
 other words. Daisy says we mustn't 
 say ? mercy,' and ? gracious,' and 
 ? heavens/ and maybe we mustn't ; 
 but why is that swearing? Swearing 
 is taking God's name in vain, and 
 how do such words take His name 
 in vain if we don't speak it? And she 
 thinks playing with the Bible, or say- 
 ing its words when we are playing 
 or just talking common talk, is taking 
 God's name in vain, too. Is it?" 
 
 I will tell you," said Mr. Ward. 
 w Suppose, Lily, that some great king
 
 1 68 Daisy's Work. 
 
 or queen, or the president of our own 
 country, were to come here ; would 
 you not wish to be particularly polite 
 and respectful to them, both in your 
 manner and way of speaking ? " 
 
 :? Um-m-m, I don't know," an- 
 swered Lily, doubtfully; "notpartic'- 
 lar. I guess I'd just as lieve be saucy 
 to them as to any one else." 
 
 Mr. Ward saw this would not do, 
 at least, not for Lily: he must go 
 higher than earthly rulers. 
 
 " Suppose, then," he said, " that 
 Jesus should come down here among 
 us, so that we could see Him with 
 our eyes, walking and talking with 
 us, what would you all do ? " 
 
 " I'd fall down and worship Him," 
 said Minnie.
 
 The Swearing Class. 169 
 
 " I'd listen to every word He said, 
 and never speak one myself for fear 
 I should miss one," said Daisy; "and 
 then I'd remember them all the days 
 of my life." 
 
 "Dear child!" said Mr. Ward, 
 laying his hand fondly on hers : " I 
 believe you do treasure your Lord's 
 words and try to live according to 
 them." 
 
 " I'd ask Him to put His hand on 
 my head and bless me just as He did 
 those other little children when He 
 was on earth before," said Lola, softly. 
 
 "So would I. And I'd be glad 
 there were no disciples to forbid us 
 to come to Him," said Lily. "I 
 s'pose they thought Jesus wouldn't 
 care about children ; but He did, 
 15
 
 170 Daisy's Work. 
 
 didn't He? And you wouldn't think 
 so, papa, would you ? " and the little 
 child laid her hand lovingly against 
 her father's cheek. " I'd keep very 
 close to Him all the time He was here, 
 and take fast hold of His hand, only 
 I wouldn't be troublesome, but just 
 keep as still as a mouse; and I'd give 
 Him every thing of mine that He 
 wanted." 
 
 " So you would all show your love 
 and reverence for Him by every 
 means in your power," said Mr. 
 Ward, " trying not to grieve or offend 
 Him by treating His name or His 
 presence with the least carelessness 
 or disrespect, but letting Him see 
 that you honored the one and were 
 blessed by the other: is it not so?"
 
 The Swearing Class. 171 
 
 * Yes, sir," came from the older as 
 well as the younger children. 
 
 "And if, after He had gone away, 
 He should send you each a letter, 
 telling you what He wanted you to 
 do, how you were to love and serve 
 Him, and in which you would find 
 all the advice, help, and comfort you 
 might need at any time, how would 
 you treat that letter?" 
 
 " I'd keep it all my life, and take 
 such good care of it," said Rosie. 
 
 " I'd read it, and read it, and read 
 it; and kiss it, and kiss it, and kiss it," 
 said Lily, " and then I'd put it in my 
 bosom, and keep it, oh! so carefully." 
 
 "And so would I, and I, and I," 
 said the rest, satisfied to have Lily 
 for spokeswoman.
 
 172 Daisy's Work. 
 
 w And if you saw any one misusing 
 that letter, how would you feel ? " 
 asked Mr. Ward. 
 
 "I'd be very provoked with them," 
 answered Lily, " and I think I would- 
 n't love them any more, 'cept it was 
 you, papa, or mamma, or Elly, or any 
 one of my own that I have to love ; 
 and then I'd cry, and ask you not to 
 serve my Jesus' letter so." 
 
 :? You mean the Bible is Jesus' letter 
 to us : don't you, sir ? " asked Daisy. 
 
 "Yes; and, dear children, our 
 Lord's presence is here among us 
 as much as if He were in man's 
 form which He once wore on earth. 
 His ear is as quick to hear our words 
 of love and praise, or those of careless- 
 ness and disrespect, as it was then;
 
 The Swearing Class. 173 
 
 His eye as ready to see the use we 
 make of the precious Word He has 
 given us. But we forget this when 
 we use His book more carelessly 
 than we would any gift from an 
 earthly friend, or when we take His 
 name lightly or without thought upon 
 our lips. To do this is to take it in 
 vain, and it displeases Him." 
 
 "But, Mr. Ward," said Minnie, "it 
 is not cursing and swearing to say 
 ' mercy,' and ? gracious,' and ' good 
 Lord,' and such things, is it?" 
 
 " Not cursing, certainly : that is to 
 use God's name profanely, or to call 
 on Him to destroy us or other people ; 
 and this is a most terrible sin. But, 
 Minnie, the use of such words in 
 play or thoughtlessness is a bad habit, 
 is*
 
 174 Daisy's Work. 
 
 and leads to worse. Suppose a man 
 breaks open a bank here, and takes 
 all the money from it : that is steal- 
 ing, is it not? " 
 
 " Why, yes, sir," answered Minnie. 
 
 " And suppose you take a sugar- 
 plum belonging to your sister : it is 
 a very small thing compared to the 
 money taken from the bank, but is 
 it not stealing, all the same ? " 
 
 r? Yes, sir; and if I was to be so 
 bad as to take Julia's sugar-plums, 
 I'm afraid I'd maybe steal something 
 worse some time." 
 
 "Just so," said the gentleman; "and 
 now you see why it is 'not wise or 
 right to make use of such expressions. 
 It is, as Lily says, a kind of little 
 swearing, and may lead to worse.
 
 The Swearing Class. 175 
 
 Besides, it is very useless. You can 
 surely believe one another, unless, 
 indeed, it is some false and deceitful 
 child, without saying ? upon your 
 sacred word and honor,' 'as sure as 
 you live,' r Heaven knows,' and so 
 forth. And there is so little tempta- 
 tion to fall into this sin that it seems 
 strange it should be so common. 
 There is nothing to be gained by it, 
 even of this world's good, no pleas- 
 ure, no profit. It is only an idle, use- 
 less habit, most displeasing and vexing 
 to the holy ear of Him whose com- 
 mandment we break without thought 
 or care. Goodness and mercy and 
 graciousness belong to the Almighty; 
 and so, too, we must take heed that 
 we do not speak of what belongs to
 
 176 Daisy's Work. 
 
 Him in an irreverent, careless way. 
 And now I think we have had 
 enough talk on this subject for this 
 afternoon. You did not ask your 
 friends here that I might lecture 
 them." 
 
 "Oh, yes! I did, papa," said Lily ; 
 " for we all deserved it very much, 
 'specially the big girls. But, papa, 
 do you believe the Lord troubles 
 Himself to know where the girls put 
 an old, worn-out cushion, and such 
 things ; and if He does, ought we to 
 say He does ? " 
 
 " God knows every thing, Lily ; 
 even the smallest trifle is seen by 
 Him ; but it is very wrong to say, in 
 a heedless way, 'the Lord knows,' 
 for I suppose that is what you mean.
 
 The Swearing Class. 177 
 
 And this very thought, that His eye 
 and His ear are always with us, no- 
 ticing every word and look, knowing 
 the very feelings of our hearts, should 
 make us all the more careful how we 
 use His holy name. I am glad this 
 question has come up among you ; 
 for heedlessness in using God's name, 
 and other sacred words, in quoting 
 Scripture, talking Bible, my Lily 
 calls it, and other such habits, were 
 becoming too common, I fear, among 
 all the young people in Glenwood ; 
 and we older ones too, I believe, fall 
 too often into the custom. We have, 
 too many of us, constant need of the 
 prayer, r Set a watch, O Lord, upon 
 my mouth; keep the door of my 
 lips.'"
 
 178 Daisys Work. 
 
 " It is Daisy's doing, sir, that we 
 have come to think of this," said hon- 
 est Cora. " I, for one, have been 
 very thoughtless about offending God 
 in this way, and have set a bad ex- 
 ample to the rest. I believe the little 
 ones have caught it from us larger 
 girls, and we have to thank Daisy 
 that she has taught us a better les-
 
 DAISY'S NAME.
 
 VIII. 
 
 DAISY'S NAME. 
 
 'TNDADE, now, and hasn't me 
 words come true, sir? For 
 wasn't I afther tellin' ye she was as 
 nate a little lady as iver stepped in 
 two shoes ? " said Betty Macarthy, as 
 she stood with her arms akimbo, her 
 head on one side, and her honest face 
 one broad glow of delight and satis- 
 faction, gazing at the dainty-looking 
 little creature who stood before her, 
 her young face bright with as much 
 pleasure as Betty's own. 
 
 16
 
 1 82 Daisy's Work. 
 
 For Daisy's old friend had come 
 to live at Mrs. Forster's ; and this 
 was the way it had been brought 
 about. 
 
 The lady had wanted a laundress; 
 and, thinking that Betty, who had 
 once held that post in her father's 
 family, might know of one, had begged 
 the General to ask her. 
 
 No sooner had he put the question 
 than Betty eagerly answered she 
 should be only too glad of the place 
 herself; for she was tired of her 
 present position, and a countrywo- 
 man of her own was ready to take it 
 off her hands, stock, fixtures, good- 
 will, and all. "For her heart was 
 sore for the child," Betty said, and to 
 be where she could see her every
 
 Daisys Name. 183 
 
 day, and to live once more with w Miss 
 Gertrude," would be almost as much 
 happiness as she could wish for; and 
 then she would try to put Jack out 
 with some gardener to learn his trade, 
 for which he had always had a turn. 
 
 So the General, having talked the 
 matter over with his wife, and mind- 
 ful of the generous care and kindness 
 shown to their Daisy by these poor 
 people, not only told Betty she should 
 come to live with them, but also put 
 Jack under his own gardener, though 
 there was really no need of any more 
 hands about the place. 
 
 Thus did the "bread cast upon 
 the waters " by this kind-hearted 
 Irishwoman, come back to her, blessed 
 sevenfold.
 
 184 Daisys Work. 
 
 Nothing was told to Daisy of this 
 arrangement till one afternoon, when 
 the General had returned from the 
 city, Mrs. Forster said to her, " I am 
 going to speak to the new laundress 
 and gardener's boy. Come with me, 
 Daisy ; " and half wondering, the lit- 
 tle girl obeyed. 
 
 But her surprise soon changed into 
 delight and gratitude when she saw 
 who the new domestics were ; for, 
 in spite of all the pleasure she felt in 
 her new way of life, Daisy's loving 
 little heart often longed for the old 
 friends who had been so good to her 
 in her time of need, and she wanted 
 not only to see them, but to share 
 some of her many comforts with 
 them.
 
 Daisy's Name. 185 
 
 So you may know how glad she 
 was when her eye fell upon the two 
 figures standing by the back door, 
 and she knew that they had been 
 brought to live in the same place with 
 her. 
 
 With an excitement very unusual 
 in her, she flew at Betty, and, throw- 
 ing both arms about her neck, cov- 
 ered her broad, smiling face with 
 warm kisses. Betty returned them 
 with a will, holding her fast in both 
 arms ; and then, putting her from her 
 and looking at her from head to foot, 
 put on an air of strong approval, and 
 spoke to the General in the words 
 you have read at the beginning of 
 this chapter. 
 
 w An' isn't it fit for a princess, she 
 16*
 
 1 86 Daisy's Work. 
 
 is ? " she continued, quite unable to 
 keep back her admiration and pleas- 
 ure at the child's improved appear- 
 ance. " Isn't it fit for a princess she 
 is; and Saacyfuts or no Saacyfuts, 
 isn't it a right her own folks would 
 have to the name if they found her 
 now? Sure I'd be saacy meself to 
 have the ownin' of a child like that. 
 An' her not a bit spoiled, but just as 
 lovin' and free-like as when she had 
 none but me an' Jack." 
 
 Then Daisy was told she might 
 take Betty and Jack away and show 
 them the neat little wash-house, shad- 
 ed by a fine clump of trees, with its 
 nice bleaching and drying ground 
 beyond, its laundry on the first floor, 
 and two small bedrooms above, where
 
 Daisy s Name. 187 
 
 they were to sleep. Betty was en- 
 chanted, and expressed over and over 
 again her satisfaction at the change 
 in her life. It was far better, she 
 thought, to stand at the wash-tub 
 or ironing-table, breathing the sweet 
 country air, with all its pleasant sights 
 and sounds about her, than to do the 
 same at her stall in the hot, dusty, 
 crowded city. 
 
 As for Jack, when he saw the 
 splendid garden, when Daisy had led 
 them there, and knew it was to be 
 his* privilege to work among those 
 lovely flowers, he could not contain 
 himself, but shouted and shouted, 
 turned somersault after somersault, 
 till recalled to himself by Betty's re- 
 minder that he must " remember that
 
 1 88 Daisy's Work. 
 
 Margaret she begged her pardon, 
 Miss Daisy was a little lady now, 
 and he must mind his manners before 
 her." 
 
 But Daisy was so like her old self, 
 so free from any pride or haughtiness 
 in her new position, that Jack found 
 it hard to remember she was any 
 other than the little waif whom he 
 had pitied and petted for so long ; 
 and his " manners " were brought to 
 his mind with much more force by 
 the sight of the gray-haired old Scotch 
 gardener under whom he was to 
 work, and before whom his gambols 
 ceased at once. 
 
 Meanwhile General and Mrs. Fors- 
 ter were talking on a very interesting 
 subject, for Betty's words about
 
 Daisy's Name. 189 
 
 Daisy's lost friends had given the lady 
 a new idea. 
 
 " Frank," she said to her husband, 
 "did you notice what Betty said about 
 Daisy's friends ? " 
 
 :? Yes," he answered. w I hope she 
 won't turn Daisy's head and make 
 her vain with her praise and flat- 
 tery." 
 
 " I'm not afraid," said his wife. 
 " Daisy has a right to her name, the 
 modest, unaffected little girl; and she 
 has too much sense to be spoiled by 
 what she looks upon only as the over- 
 flowing of Betty's affection. But 
 don't you know that the Irish pften 
 say saacy when they mean proud ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. I have often noticed it 
 in people of Betty's class," answered
 
 190 Daisy's Work. 
 
 the General ; " but what has that to 
 do with Daisy's friends ? " 
 
 " Is it not possible that their name 
 is Proudfoot or Proudfit, and that 
 'Saacyfut' is Betty's way of calling 
 it?" 
 
 The General laughed heartily. 
 
 "Hardly, I think," he said; "and 
 yet I do not know. It may be. 
 But it never struck me. It took a 
 woman's wit to think of that." 
 
 "We will ask Daisy when she 
 comes," said Mrs. Forster. " If 
 Proudfoot was their name, she must 
 remember it when she hears it spoken, 
 I think. She can hardly have forgot- 
 ten it so entirely that she would not 
 recognize it. And then, if it should 
 be so, it will be a help to find her
 
 Daisy's Name. 191 
 
 friends." Mrs. Forster spoke the last 
 words more slowly. 
 
 :? Yes," said her husband, giving 
 words to the thought which had made 
 her half unwilling to utter them ; 
 " and if found, we must give up our 
 Daisy." 
 
 " But we must not seek them the 
 less for that," she said, "or I shall 
 feel as if we had found some lovely 
 jewel that we were striving to hide 
 from the rightful owner. I know 
 what terrible longings must fill her 
 mother's heart ; " and a tear dropped 
 from Mrs. Forster's eye on her baby's 
 face, as she clasped it more tenderly 
 than ever in her arms. 
 
 "Daisy," said the General that 
 evening, as the little girl stood by his
 
 192 Daisy's Work. 
 
 knee, " did you ever hear the name 
 of Proudfoot?" 
 
 Daisy started, drew a quick, gasp- 
 ing breath, and suddenly threw her- 
 self into his arms. 
 
 "That is it! " she cried, in a rapid, 
 excited manner, "that is it! That is 
 my name, that is what they called 
 papa and mamma. I never heard it 
 since ; but I know it now. I am 
 Daisy Proudfoot, I am, I am!" 
 
 It was some time before the child's 
 excitement could be calmed ; but 
 there was no farther knowledge to be 
 gained from her. Proudfoot was her 
 name, of that she was quite sure ; 
 and the recollection of it at this late 
 hour seemed to fill her with a kind 
 of tremulous happiness ; but still
 
 Daisy's Name. 193 
 
 she could not tell where she be- 
 longed. 
 
 Betty too, when she was asked if 
 Proudfoot was the name of Daisy's 
 mother, answered, 
 
 " Sure, an' it was, ma'am. Didn't 
 I say so all along, only she was 
 always gainsayin' it ? " * 
 
 The matter was settled; and Gen- 
 eral Forster, loath as he was to part 
 with Daisy, feeling that he must 
 leave no stone unturned to trace her 
 friends, again put advertisements in 
 the papers, saying, that if any family 
 of the name of Proudfoot had had 
 a child supposed to be lost at sea, 
 
 * If this is considered far-fetched, the writer can 
 only say that Betty's rendering of the name of Proud- 
 foot was actually given by a domestic in her own 
 family, and occasioned considerable bewilderment, 
 till the quick wit of one of its members solved the 
 riddle.
 
 194 Daisy's Work. 
 
 they might hear of her at such and 
 such a place. 
 
 Daisy was not told of this ; she 
 was contented and happy in her new 
 home and among her new friends, 
 and it was not thought best to disturb 
 her mind with fresh hopes of finding 
 those who might never come to claim 
 her. 
 
 But although she was still called 
 Daisy Forster by all in Glenwood, it 
 was a satisfaction to herself and to 
 the kind friends who had taken her 
 up and cared for her, to know the 
 name which rightly belonged to her. 
 
 However, days and weeks and 
 months went by, and still no one 
 came to seek the Daisy blossom 
 which had been transplanted to such
 
 Daisy's Name. 195 
 
 pleasant soil. And there it grew and 
 flourished, and did its Master's work; 
 proving how much even such a simple 
 floweret can do by its own modest 
 example and teaching to win others 
 to honor Him. 
 
 It was surprising to see how much 
 her schoolmates thought of her opin- 
 ion ; how they profited by the simple 
 lesson she had taught them, and tried 
 to break themselves of the foolish and 
 sinful habit into which nearly all of 
 them had fallen, of using sacred 
 names and things in such a heedless, 
 unthinking manner. 
 
 It was not only the very little girls, 
 but the older ones also, and even 
 Miss Collins herself, who learned 
 from our Daisy to set a watch upon
 
 196 Daisys Work. 
 
 their lips, and to remember whose 
 ear was ever present, hearing each 
 thoughtless word which dishonored 
 Him or that which especially be- 
 longed to Him. 
 
 Perhaps they gave more heed to 
 Daisy's words than they would have 
 done to those of any other one of 
 their number. There was such a 
 half-mystery about her, and their 
 thoughts were so tender towards her, 
 that they checked their heedless 
 speech for her sake at first ; then, as 
 they learned to think more about it, 
 for a better and higher reason, till at 
 last the bad habit was broken up ; 
 and if, by chance, such a word as 
 " mercy," w heavens," " good Lord," 
 or the like, came from the lips of any
 
 Daisy's Name. 197 
 
 child, the surprised and reproving 
 looks of her companions told her of 
 her fault, and punished her suf- 
 ficiently. 
 
 And the good influence spread far 
 and wide. Since the little ones were 
 so careful, their parents and older 
 friends felt that they, too, must take 
 heed lest they offended in this way; 
 and so it came to pass that among 
 the families of Glenwood God's name 
 and word came to be held in such 
 true reverence and honor as had never 
 been before. 
 
 And so nearly a year passed by, 
 and brought the Daisy and her sister- 
 flowerets to another spring. 
 
 17*
 
 THE LOST FOUND.
 
 IX. 
 
 THE LOST FOUND. 
 
 "TS that you, Daisy?" 
 
 :<r Yes, sir. Is that you, Uncle 
 Frank?" answered Daisy, playfully. 
 
 w Well, I thought it was this morn- 
 ing when I went to town; but I am 
 doubtful of it now." 
 
 :? Why ? " asked Daisy, laughing, as 
 she reached up on tiptoe to offer the 
 kiss with which she always welcomed 
 her uncle on his return from the 
 city.
 
 2O2 Daisys Work. 
 
 "Baby Daisy is not doubtful, at 
 least," said Mrs. Forster, coming for- 
 ward, and putting her little daughter, 
 all crows and smiles, in her father's 
 arms. w Let her pull your, hair a 
 little to convince you of the fact." 
 
 w It will be difficult," said the Gen- 
 eral. " There was a man in the cars 
 so like me, face, height, and figure, 
 that some of my friends were taking 
 him for me; others accusing me of 
 having a brother whom I have never 
 owned. He sat two or three seats in 
 front of me, and I could not help 
 being amused. Ward came in, nod- 
 ded familiarly to my double, with, 
 " How are you, General ? " passed on 
 to me, stopped, and looked from one 
 to the other with a mixture of surprise
 
 The Lost Found. 203 
 
 and curiosity that was droll; then 
 asked for information which I could 
 not give him. It was the same with 
 many others. I hope the stranger 
 will keep himself out of mischief 
 while he is in Glenwood, or I may 
 be held responsible for his wrong do- 
 ings." 
 
 "Did he come to Glenwood?" 
 asked Daisy. 
 
 :? Yes: I left him standing on the 
 platform at the station, and I hardly 
 knew whether my own carriage be- 
 longed to him or to me. However, 
 he made no claim as I stepped into 
 it." 
 
 " Who was he? " asked Mrs. Fors- 
 ter. "Did not you find out? " 
 
 " No. No one could tell me, and
 
 204 Daisy's Work. 
 
 I could not go and ask the man who 
 h? was, merely for the reason that 
 he resembled me so much. There, 
 there, little woman," as the baby gave 
 a vigorous pull at his hair. " I've had 
 enough of mamma's proofs, and am 
 satisfied that no other man than Frank 
 Forster would submit to such usage 
 at these tiny hands. I rather imagine 
 this stranger came up to look at 
 Beechgrove, which is to let, as I heard 
 him asking the railway porter in which 
 direction it lay, and where the agent 
 was to be found." 
 
 A fortnight went by, and nothing 
 more was seen of the stranger who 
 looked so like General Forster; nor 
 after that evening did the General or 
 his wife think of him.
 
 The Lost Found. 205 
 
 Not so Daisy. She thought often 
 of him with a kind of half wish that 
 she might see him; why she scarcely 
 knew herself, but she never spoke of 
 it. She was rather a sby, quiet child, 
 keeping her ideas and wishes pretty 
 much to herself, unless they were 
 drawn out by some one whom she 
 loved or trusted; and neither the Gen- 
 eral nor Mrs. Forster suspected what 
 was working in her mind. 
 
 Her idea, too, that the General 
 looked so like her own papa, they 
 regarded only as a childish fancy, 
 ready to see a likeness between the 
 two she most admired and loved 
 in all the world. And they never 
 imagined how the child was dream- 
 ing and wondering over this unseen 
 18
 
 206 Daisy's Work. 
 
 stranger who had had such a passing 
 interest for them. 
 
 Meanwhile, it became certain that 
 Beechgrove, as the place was called, 
 was taken; for the placards adver- 
 tising it to rent were taken down, 
 and the house was going through 
 a thorough cleaning. 
 
 But the General* and his wife, being 
 people who never gossiped or con- 
 cerned themselves about their neigh- 
 bors' affairs, did not trouble themselves 
 in the matter. And those who were 
 curious and asked questions received 
 no satisfaction from old Dr. Harding, 
 who had charge of the property. 
 
 All Miss Collins' young scholars, 
 however, thought themselves very 
 much concerned in the letting of
 
 The Lost Found. 207 
 
 Beechgrove, and with good reason. 
 For a large aviary belonged to the 
 place, containing many rare and 
 beautiful birds, and the former owner, 
 who was fond of children, often 
 used to invite the young people of 
 Glenwood to see these birds, and 
 to amuse themselves in other ways 
 about his grounds. But since Dr. 
 Harding had had the care of the 
 place, not a child had been suffered 
 to come within sight or hearing of 
 the aviary, which had a new charm 
 for them since it was a forbidden 
 pleasure. 
 
 So the new occupants of Beech- 
 grove, and the question as to whether 
 they were likely to recover their old 
 privileges there or no, had been a
 
 208 Daisy's Work. 
 
 subject of great interest to our young 
 friends, and they were very anxious 
 for information on the matter. 
 
 One morning when Daisy came to 
 school, she found the rest of the 
 class grouped about Mattie Prime 
 and Rosie Pierson, who lived beyond 
 Beechgrove, and had to pass it on 
 their way to Miss Collins'. 
 
 " The new people have gone to 
 Beechgrove," said Violet Swan, when 
 Daisy asked what they were talking 
 about; "and Mattie and Rosie saw 
 a little girl there this morning. We 
 are glad there is a child there, be- 
 cause maybe having her will make 
 the papa good to other children, 
 and he will let us go in and see 
 the birds because of her."
 
 The Lost Found. 209 
 
 " She's a very little thing," said 
 Rosie. w She can't speak plain. Such 
 a crooked tongue." 
 
 "But she's very cunning," said 
 Mattie. :? We were going past the 
 gate and she called out to us, f ltty 
 dirls, itty dirls; ' and when we stopped 
 she put her face through the rails 
 to kiss us, and handed us some 
 flowers she had. She was real 
 sweet." 
 
 K What is her name ? " asked Daisy. 
 
 c? We asked her, but we could not 
 make out what she said. Mamy 
 Modwit it sounded like; but she 
 did speak so crooked," said Mattie. 
 
 " ? Do you know," said Rosie, w I 
 think she looked like Daisy. Don't 
 you, Mattie?" 
 
 18*
 
 2io Daisys Work. 
 
 " Why, so she does," said Mattie. 
 " Isn't that funny ? Only Daisy's eyes 
 always look sorry except when she 
 is laughing or speaking, and that 
 little girl's were so full of mischief 
 and laughing." 
 
 "How big was she?" asked Lola. 
 
 " Oh, about as large as your sister 
 Bertie. Not near old enough to 
 come to school." 
 
 "I s'pose there are no other chil- 
 dren but her," said Fanny Delisle. 
 "Willie saw the family come yes- 
 terday; and he said there were only 
 the lady and gentleman, and the 
 little girl and servants. If there 
 are no children as old as us, maybe 
 it won't come into their heads to 
 let us see the aviary again."
 
 The Lost Found. 211 
 
 This short conversation put an end 
 to the half hope, half wish, that had 
 been in Daisy's heart. Even sup- 
 posing the stranger who looked so 
 like General Forster were the gen- 
 tleman who had taken Beechgrove, 
 he could be nothing to her (not 
 until now had she said even to 
 herself that she had hoped it might 
 be so), for the family did not answer 
 to her own. She had papa and 
 mamma, little brother Theodore, and 
 a baby sister, a very little baby; 
 and only this child of three years 
 old or more seemed to belong to 
 the new-comers; and she had no 
 sister so old. 
 
 Daisy reasoned this all out for 
 herself with a sad, disappointed little
 
 212 Daisy's Work. 
 
 heart, forgetting that time had not 
 stood still with her own family any 
 more than it had with her, and that 
 changes might have come to them 
 as well as to herself. 
 
 This was on Friday, and nothing- 
 more was seen or heard of the 
 strangers by Daisy or her playmates, 
 till Sunday came. But then such 
 a strange and happy thing came to 
 pass, and in such a wonderful way. 
 "Just like a book thing," Lily Ward 
 afterwards said. 
 
 It was the loveliest of Sabbath days, 
 and every thing seemed to feel it. 
 
 "What day is it, Bertie?" asked 
 Mr. Swan, as his youngest daughter 
 stood on the piazza steps ready for 
 church.
 
 The Lost Found. 213 
 
 "Jesus' happy Sunday," answered 
 the little one ; w and, oh, didn't He 
 mate a nice one ! " 
 
 Other people than Bertie thought 
 so; a nice one indeed. 
 
 It was the softest, sweetest, warmest 
 of May Sundays. A busy little breeze, 
 carrying with it the perfume of the 
 apple-blossoms over which it had 
 passed, stole in at the open windows 
 of the church, and wandered around 
 among aisles, pillars, and pews, now 
 fluttering the leaves of a book, now 
 toying with a ribbon, now tossing a 
 curl upon some sunny head, now 
 fanning some cheek flushed with a 
 walk in the almost summer heat. 
 A robin, saucy birdie, swung him- 
 self lightly to and fro on the branch
 
 214 Daisy's Work. 
 
 of one of the fine old elms outside 
 the church-door, and poured forth 
 his hymn of praise; while from far 
 and near came the answering notes 
 of his mates; and mingling with 
 his song were heard the voices of 
 the children in the Sunday school 
 beyond, as they sang the closing 
 hymn. 
 
 Then they came trooping in gently, 
 and with soft footsteps, as became 
 the house of God (honoring His 
 name and His word had taught 
 them also to honor the place where 
 He was worshipped), and took their 
 places beside their parents and 
 friends. 
 
 Watching them from one of the 
 pews which ran by the side of the
 
 The Lost Found. 215 
 
 pulpit, were a pair of roguish, danc- 
 ing eyes, which Rosie Pierson and 
 Mattie Prime recognized at once. 
 They were those of the little girl who 
 had peeped at them through the rail- 
 ing of the Beechgrove grounds. Now 
 they were peeping over the top of the 
 pew-door as she stood at its foot, her 
 hands crossed upon it, her chin resting 
 upon them. What a bright, merry, 
 laughing face it was, and how like 
 Daisy's! General and Mrs. Forster 
 had noticed it from their seat, which 
 commanded a full view of that of the 
 strangers. 
 
 Beside the little girl sat a gentle- 
 man, half turned from the congrega- 
 tion, his face partly shaded by his 
 hand; but there could be no doubt
 
 216 Daisy's Work. 
 
 that he was the man who was so like 
 the General. Mrs. Forster saw the 
 likeness at once, even in the turn and 
 shape of his head. Beyond him was 
 a lady in deep mourning, closely 
 veiled. 
 
 "Frank must find out who they 
 are," said Mrs. Forster to herself. 
 " That child is so like Daisy. Can it 
 be oh, can it be ? " Then she tried 
 to collect her thoughts and bring them 
 back to the service of Him whom she 
 had come to worship. 
 
 Daisy came in a little behind the 
 rest of the infant class (she had lin- 
 gered for a word with her teacher), 
 and took her seat. Almost imme- 
 diately her eye fell on the new-comers 
 to Glenwood. Mrs. Forster saw her
 
 The Lost Found. 217 
 
 start, flush all over, neck and face, 
 and press her small hands tightly to- 
 gether, as if trying to keep back some 
 exclamation which rose to her lips. 
 
 With a beating heart the child 
 watched the strangers, striving in vain 
 to get a better view of the face of the 
 gentleman, gazing from him to the 
 veiled lady, and then at the little 
 girl. 
 
 The bell ceased tolling, the con- 
 gregation were gathered, the hour of 
 service had come, and the clergyman 
 rose in the pulpit. 
 
 But at that moment the lady drew 
 aside her veil ; and ere Dr. Parker 
 had opened his lips, a little voice rang 
 through the still church. 
 
 " Mamma! Oh, my own mamma! " 
 19
 
 218 Daisy's Work. 
 
 How much was in those few words! 
 "What a tale they told! What a world 
 of longing, of love, of joy, they held ! 
 
 The stranger lady ah! no stran- 
 ger was she to our Daisy started to 
 her feet, stretched out her hands, then 
 with a little cry sank fainting into 
 the arms of the gentleman who had 
 also suddenly arisen. 
 
 She was carried out; General and 
 Mrs. Forster following with the ex- 
 cited, trembling Daisy ; and so the 
 father and mother found the long-lost 
 child. 
 
 Who could describe it? Who 
 could find words for the joy, the 
 wonder, the gratitude of those con- 
 cerned; who tell the sympathy which 
 filled the hearts of all in that congre-
 
 The Lost Found. 219 
 
 gation, which dimmed their eyes with 
 tears, and filled their hearts with ado- 
 ration, as, before another word of the 
 morning service was begun, the be- 
 loved minister called on all to render 
 thanks for the great and signal mercy 
 just shown to those long-parted pa- 
 rents and their little one ! 
 
 And now there is little more to tell. 
 Only how Daisy's mamma, and the 
 little sister whom she remembered 
 only as a tiny baby, had been rescued 
 from the sinking ship with some of 
 the other passengers ; how, having 
 been unable to trace their lost treas- 
 ure, and believing that the boat, with 
 all whom it contained, had gone 
 down in the deep waters, the parents 
 had gone abroad, where they had re-
 
 22O Daisy's Work. 
 
 mained till a few months before this 
 time, and so had never seen the ad- 
 vertisements which might have told 
 them she was still living: all this 
 was soon explained. 
 
 And then Daisy must tell her story, 
 and Betty must come in to help her 
 out where memory failed and the 
 past was a blank, because of that long, 
 wasting illness. And how Betty 
 laughed and cried by turns, and would 
 hear of no praise or thanks for what 
 she had done, declaring that " Miss 
 Daisy had done her and Jack far 
 more good nor she resaved, tach- 
 ing them to mind their tongues afore 
 God Almighty." 
 
 And though General and Mrs. Fors- 
 ter must now give up, to her rightful
 
 The Lost Found. 221 
 
 owners, the darling of whom they had 
 grown so fond, yet they did not have 
 to part with her altogether; for she 
 was so near to them that they saw 
 her every day; indeed, the two fam- 
 ilies became almost as one, and Daisy 
 felt as if she had two homes. 
 
 The little brother, whom Daisy re- 
 membered so well, had gone to a 
 home beyond the sky, but a few 
 weeks before her father and mother 
 came to Glenwood. 
 
 And so the Daisy blossom, which 
 had been parted from its parent stem 
 and cast by the wayside, where 
 stranger hands had gathered and 
 lovingly tended it, was planted once 
 more in the soil where it belonged, 
 after it had done the Master's work,
 
 222 Daisy's Work. 
 
 and scattered the good seed which 
 budded for His glory ; proving well, 
 that those who "honor" the Lord 
 He will "delight to honor." 
 
 Cambridge : Press of John Wilson & Son
 
 This book is DUE on the last 
 date stamped below 
 
 lOm-ll, '50(2555)470 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 AA 000 481 439 
 
 PZ?