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 There was one plant which she admired very much.— p. 53 
 
WINTER EVENING AND SUMMER DAY 
 L IB K A E Y: 
 
 BLANCHE AND HER FRIENDS, 
 
 BT 
 
 HETTY HOXYOKE. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 1866. 
 
EDUC- 
 
 . PSYCH. 
 ilBRARY 
 
 GIFT 
 
4^ 
 
 CONTENTS. ffi.*fJ^. 
 
 OHAPTEB PA OB 
 
 I. — THE OAK TREE 6 
 
 n. — THE STRANGER 8 
 
 in. — 'LEEDY'S STORY 14 
 
 IV. — BLANCHE'S STORY 19 
 
 v. — 'LEEDY'S DREAM. 23 
 
 VL— THE FAIRIES 27 
 
 VII. — THE FAIRIES' RIDE .32 
 
 VIII. — WHAT THE FAIRIES BROUGHT HOME. . . 36 
 
 IX. — AUNT DORA .40 
 
 X. — BLANCHIE'S GARDEN .45 
 
 XL — BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE 62 
 
 XIL — OLD ELI 57 
 
 XIIL — BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN 62 
 
 XIV. — THE RAINY DAY 66 
 
 XV. —BLANCHE AT WORK 71 
 
 XVL — ELI'S PARTY 76 
 
 XVII. — THE OLD MAN'S STORY 83 
 
 XVIIL — THE GHOST THAT TURNEl? THE COFFEE 
 
 MILL 93 
 
 (3) 
 
 471 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 XIX. — THE SILK WORMS 102 
 
 XX. — THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS 110 
 
 XXI. — BLANCHIE'S ACCIDENT 117 
 
 XXII. — BLANCHE'S PRESENTS 124 
 
 XXIII.— WATCHING THE BIRDS 129 
 
 XXIV. — THE COCOONERY 135 
 
 XXV. — THE LAST VISIT TO ELI 144 
 
 XXVL— THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY 151 
 
 XXVII.— THE NEW MINISTER 163 
 
C|t Surprise 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE OAK TREE. 
 
 NE bright, still sum-' 
 mer day, a group of 
 children were playing 
 about the steps of a 
 village church. Per- 
 haps, children, it was 
 the very village where 
 you live ; but no mat- 
 ^ter about that: all 
 young people love to 
 play ; and these had spent the whole 
 afternoon together, flying from one 
 
 1# (5) 
 
6 THE OAK TREE. 
 
 game to another, and making all the 
 air musical with merry laughs. 
 
 The robins thought this laughter 
 was the children's song to them ; for 
 robins don't know but what children 
 were created on purpose to make the 
 world look lively for their little bird- 
 ships, as they sit dreaming in their 
 shady nests. 
 
 So the robins twittered back songs 
 as much like the children's as they 
 could make them ; and the tall pine 
 trees in the churchyard waved and 
 waved against the sky like paint 
 brushes, soaking up the sunshine; and 
 passing it down to the children, made 
 their faces glow again, and their hearts 
 leap delightedly. 
 
 Beside the church stood an oak tree 
 that spread her branches far and 
 
THE OAK TREE. 7 
 
 wide ; and such ancient, knotted, mos- 
 sy branches perhaps you never saw: 
 they had grown so brittle with age, 
 that the wind had broken them in 
 places; and the lightning had made 
 great scars along the trunk. 
 
 But the tree came out new every 
 spring, with a garment of beautiful, 
 fresh, green leaves, that covered up all 
 her losses, and made a shelter for 
 many little birds who built their nests, 
 hatched their young, dozed, sang, 
 made dainty meals from bugs and flies, 
 and altogether had splendid times, hid- 
 den away there in the shade. 
 
CHAPTER n. 
 
 THE STRANGER. 
 
 NDER this fine old 
 tree the children 
 seated themselves 
 I to rest a while, and 
 were beginning to 
 tell each other 
 stories, when they 
 espied a stranger 
 watching them from 
 the church steps. It was a young man 
 who seemed to be walking for pleas- 
 ure ; and who, when he found that the 
 children had observed his presence, 
 went towards them, and sat down in 
 the grass: in such an easy way, and 
 with such a pleasant, smiling face, the 
 
 (8) 
 
THE STRANGER. V 
 
 young folks did not feel afraid of him 
 in the. least. 
 
 He asked them to go on with their 
 stories, and not mind his presence ; but 
 though not exactly afraid, they were a 
 little shy at first, and only looked at 
 each other and at him, without speak- 
 ing a word. 
 
 " At least you'll tell me your name, 
 and what is in that basket on your 
 arm," he said to little Blanche Ellis, 
 who was looking up into his face. 
 
 " Blanchie," she answered. " and 
 that is Elise, my sister, and the rest 
 are Minnie, and Libby, and Alice." 
 
 " And what's in your basket ? " 
 
 " The rest have flowers ; but I 
 picked up these pretty acorns — look ! 
 how many ! " and she opened the 
 cover. 
 
10 THE STRAIN UEK. 
 
 " Why, that is just what I came in 
 search of," said the stranger. "I 
 thought it would be pleasant to have 
 such a noble tree as this, growing near 
 the house in which I live ; and these 
 acorns, you know, will change into 
 oaks if we wait long enough/' 
 
 "But won't you have to wait a 
 long, long while ] " asked Blanche. 
 '' When I was born, my father planted 
 an acorn, and it's a little bit of a slim 
 tree, not much taller than I am now." 
 
 " I must be patient, then, as my 
 father was, when he planted the seed 
 from which the very oak above us 
 grew: he went to heaven long ago, 
 and his body lies under that gray 
 stone, with the weeping willow over 
 it ; but his son and the children, 
 
THE STRANGER. 11 
 
 whom he used to love so well, enjoy' 
 and bless him for the tree." 
 
 Elise had run across to the willow 
 tree, and came back saying, " The 
 name on the stone is Harris : I could 
 hardly read, it was so filled up with 
 moss." 
 
 " Then we know your name ! " ex- 
 claimed Blanche ; " and I'm so glad 
 you want acorns, for you shall have 
 mine : see ! here are more ; " and she 
 began emptying her pocket into the 
 stranger's hand. 
 
 " Thank you, dear ; but I only want 
 one or two, and I shall christen my 
 tree ' Blanche ; ' and when I get to be 
 an old, white-haired grandfather, with 
 children playing about me, I shall 
 point to the monstrous knotted limbs, 
 and the great iron-strong trunk, and 
 
12 THE STRANGER. 
 
 the thousand«v of shining leaves, and 
 tell how they were all folded up with 
 a dozen more like them, in a little 
 girl's pocket, once. These acorns 
 grew last year ; but I think they will 
 take root." 
 
 " Won't that be a nice story 1 Do 
 you suppose they'll believe it 1 " asked 
 Blanche, clapping her hands with de- 
 light. '' There's my sister 'Leedy can 
 tell beautiful stories when we are 
 alone together;, but none so funny as 
 yours : she was right in the midst of 
 one when you came." 
 
 " Come, then, 'Leedy," said the 
 stranger, " will you not be generous 
 to me like Blanche ] Where did you 
 find those little flowers'? — what are 
 they 1 — so delicate and lovely ! " 
 
 " Anemones, the very last of the 
 
THE STRANGER. 
 
 13 
 
 spring," said Elise, unfastening from 
 
 her bosom and timidly handing them 
 
 to the new comer. 
 
 " 'Leedy always finds the prettiest 
 
 flowers," whispered Blanche, " and 
 
 tells the prettiest stories : don't you 
 
 like her 1 I do," she rattled on. 
 
 '' Come 'Leedy, finish about the oak 
 
 tree." 
 
 2 
 
CHAPTER in. 
 'leedy's story. 
 
 WAS only saying," 
 ^ began Elise, " that 
 those acorns were just 
 like the oak tree's 
 children, clinging on 
 every stem, like great 
 babies afraid to leave 
 their mother ; but 
 I suppose the tree 
 thinks they are the 
 most obedient children in the world, 
 and that our fathers and mothers are 
 very careless to let us run off here 
 alone." 
 
 " How would you like to have such 
 an anxious mother, Blanche ? " asked 
 
 (14) 
 
'leedy's story. 15 
 
 the stranger. " I dare say the old tree 
 thinks that, after all, it is not of so 
 much importance what becomes of 
 you ; for all mothers think their chil- 
 dren more wonderful than any others ; 
 and these acorns she scatters about 
 the churchyard might spring into 
 noble trees; and after the church here 
 has crumbled to dust, and her own 
 trunk fallen, she thinks how grandly 
 they will stand up in the daylight — 
 her glorious children ! " 
 
 " I mean to put back my acorns ! " 
 exclaimed Blanche. " I didn't know 
 it would disappoint any body if I dug 
 out their meat and made them into 
 cups and saucers for my doll." 
 
 " The poor tree is disappointed 
 every year," said the gentleman ; 
 "for eighty summers she has built 
 
16 'leedy's story. 
 
 up the self-same hopes, and eighty 
 autumns has planted her children all 
 about her; and, thinking them safe, 
 has prepared to take her winter nap ; 
 but a drove of pigs have come in and 
 eaten them, or some old starved 
 donkey has munched them with his 
 broken teeth, or else they have rotted 
 on the ground." 
 
 Just then, there came up a wind 
 which stirred the oak till she waved 
 all her boughs, and rattled her leaves 
 overhead ; and Blanche thought it 
 seemed as though she were begging 
 them to leave her children alone. 
 
 " I should not be surprised if that 
 were exactly what she is trying to 
 say," answered Henry, — for that was 
 the gentleman's name ; " but I shall 
 take a great deal better care of them 
 
'leedy's story. 17 
 
 than she knows how — plant, and 
 water, and fence the young trees 
 round*; so that, of all the children 
 she watched so tenderly, perhaps the 
 only ones that come to any good, will 
 be these I am taking from her. 
 
 " You must remember, Blanche, that 
 when your pleasures, and things you 
 value very much, are taken away, and 
 it seems hard to give them up, they 
 are only taken for a little while ; and 
 you may find them again, some day, 
 changed from poor little seeds into 
 great spreading trees, that will shelter 
 you from the sun." 
 
 " Is that the end of your story ] " 
 asked Blanche. " The last of it 
 sounded just like what the minister 
 says at church ; only I know what you 
 are talking about, and I never know 
 2* 
 
18 'leedy's story. 
 
 any thing except the words, when he 
 is preaching. But I have thought of 
 a beautiful story, if you want to hear 
 it, about burying ray bantam last 
 summer: don't you remember it, 
 'LeedyT' 
 
 "Yes indeed! but Henry does not 
 want to hear about such things : he 
 would only laugh at us, as brother 
 Frank did." 
 
 "I know that Henry will not laugh 
 at us," said the little girl. " Would 
 you, after 'Leedy gave you all her 
 flowers, and I gave those acorns that 
 will make such great trees \ " 
 
 *' Not for the world ; and I long to 
 knew about your pet." 
 
CHAPTER. IV. 
 
 BLANCHES STORY. 
 
 ' ELL, the bantam 
 died; and she was 
 a real beauty — white 
 as snow ; and she 
 \ had the queerest long, 
 1 white pantalets, all 
 ^ made of feathers ; 
 and was so tame that 
 'Leedy and I could 
 catch her any time. 
 And she would eat corn or crumbs out 
 of our hand: sometimes she picked 
 too hard ; I suppose she didn't mean 
 to, but it hurt me so that I would 
 drop all the corn and run away. 
 
 "There was a rooster, too, and he 
 
 (19) 
 
20 BLANCHE*S STORY. 
 
 was just like her, only taller, and not 
 quite so cunning ; he has a comb on 
 his head and all round his neck, red 
 as my coral beads ; he is alive now, 
 and struts about the yard, but I think 
 he misses Banty, she was such a dear 
 little thing. 
 
 " One morning I went out to the 
 door with some crumbs for her. I 
 called and called, but she didn't come : 
 so I went into the hen house, and 
 there she was, dead as she could 
 be, with her head all on one side ! 
 Wasn't it too bad ? 
 
 " We felt so sorry, that our man, 
 John, said he would bury her and put 
 a stone over the grave. So we made 
 ready for the funeral. 
 
 " We went to school in the morning, 
 and told Minnie, and Libby, and Alice 
 
Blanche's story. 21 
 
 about it ; they knew Banty — so they 
 wanted to come ; and that afternoon 
 we were so busy dressing up our dolls 
 in mourning ! for we thought some- 
 body ought to wear black. 
 
 " Then we formed a procession : 
 first, John went with his spade, and 
 Banty under his arm ; then Elise 
 carried the rooster, with a black veil 
 over his face ; Minnie held our Maltese 
 kitten, with a long, black scarf 
 around her neck ; and then Alice 
 came with Spy — that's the puppy ; and 
 I held a dove and a rabbit ; every one 
 with something black over it ; but I'll 
 tell you the best of all : our great 
 Newfoundland dog, that's black all 
 over, followed on of his own accord; 
 and it seemed just as if he was in 
 mourning naturally. 
 
22 BLANCHES STORY. 
 
 " Then John dug the grave, and 
 Alice tolled the great dinner bell ; 
 and when I lifted the rooster's veil, 
 so that he could look at poor Banty 
 once more, don't you think he crowed, 
 standing in 'Leedy's hand ! " 
 
 " Now, 'Leedy," said Alice, when 
 Blanche had finished her story, " you 
 must tell us that dream you had about 
 fairies the other day ; " and Henry said, 
 " If it is half as interesting as what 
 Blanche has told, I should like to 
 hear it." So Elise began. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 'leedy's dream. 
 
 LANCHIE and I 
 
 were walking in the 
 wood back of aunt 
 Dora's house. It's a 
 beautiful place, full 
 of great trees, and 
 queer berries, and all 
 kinds of bushes and 
 leaves; there are places 
 where the moss is so 
 soft, and green, and thick, it is just 
 like a bed ; and others where the 
 grass grows long and pale, because it 
 is always in the shade, and the blades 
 are very slender and delicate. 
 
 " We came to one of these grassy 
 
 (23) 
 
24 'leedy's dream. 
 
 spots, that had large pine trees stand- 
 ing close around it, and only an open- 
 ing like a window at the top, to let the 
 blue sky look in. The fresh grass ancj 
 the pines, that kept stirring all the 
 time, had such a pleasant smell, and 
 made a sound like singing — only the 
 little birds in the boughs sang louder 
 and more clearly; you should have 
 heard them tweet, and twitter, and 
 trill: sometimes Blanchie can sing 
 ever so much like them. 
 
 " We had been picking partridge ber- 
 ries, — you know they are bright red, 
 like coral beads, — and I strung them 
 into a necklace and bracelets for 
 Blanche, and made her a wreath out 
 of wild honeysuckle flowers ; and she 
 made me the prettiest one out of 
 
'leedy's dream. 25 
 
 nothing but grass. Aunt Dora said 
 it was a beauty. 
 
 " But Blanchie was tired ; and while 
 I was fastening on her wreath, she fell 
 asleep by my side. I laid her softly 
 on the grass ; and it seemed as if the 
 sky, away up there abo^e the tall 
 pines, was watching over her ; and as 
 if the pines were fanning her warm 
 face, and singing songs to her so sweet 
 and low, that only she could hear 
 them in her dreams. 
 
 "A little brown sparrow hopped 
 down out of her nest and looked at 
 us ; first with one eye, and then the 
 other : such little, round, bright eyes ! 
 and then she snapped at a fly, and 
 flew away with it in her mouth. 
 
 " I suppose I fell asleep ; for I leaned 
 back in the grass to see if I could find 
 3 
 
26 
 
 LEEDYS DREAM. 
 
 the sparrow again, up in the pine 
 boughs. The grass felt so cool to my 
 hot cheeks, that I laid them close to 
 it; and the first thing I knew, it 
 seemed as if there were fairies all 
 around me. 
 
CHAPTER VT. 
 
 THE FAIRIES. 
 
 HEY crept up out 
 of the grass; they 
 hopped from the pine 
 
 i trees, just as the spar- 
 row had done; they 
 came sliding down on 
 the sunbeams, some- 
 times whirling over 
 and over as they fell, 
 but always alighting 
 safely. Often they would rest on the 
 tip of a grass blade, and hang there 
 lightly as snow flakes, and swing. 
 
 The little creatures were all dressed 
 up in flowers ; not made into wreaths, 
 
 (27) 
 
28 THE FAIRIES. 
 
 as we wear them, but sewed into real 
 gowns and aprons. 
 
 " The tallest fairy looked like a little 
 queen ; her skirt was made of a bright 
 blue gentian, the long fringe trailing 
 on the ground ; and her waist was of 
 buttercup petals, smooth as satin ; 
 her collar was part of a white jasmine 
 blossom ; and her handkerchief was 
 a rose leaf. 
 
 " Around the queen were six soldiers 
 dressed in cardinal flowers, with great 
 helmets of monkshood, and quivers 
 full of pine leaves for arrows, and 
 hatchets made of beetles' legs, all 
 sharpened like a saw. 
 
 " Some of the other fairies wore lily 
 leaves for skirts, and mantles of 
 violet ; some had tippets made from 
 the yellow fur of a bee ; one had a 
 
THE FAIRIES. 29 
 
 robe of pink rose leaves quilted to- 
 gether, and bordered with delicate 
 green moss. 
 
 " One wore leaves of a japonica, 
 that stood out like brocade, and were 
 spangled all over with gold and pur- 
 ple from a butterfly's wing ; and she 
 wore a jaunty cap of Chinese prim- 
 rose, and little heath bells in her ears. 
 
 " The gentlemen fairies wore darker 
 flowers ; all except a few, who were 
 real dandies, and had cloaks of magno- 
 lia or tulip leaves, and vests of blue for- 
 get-me-not, or of nasturtion or poppy. 
 
 " The soberer ones wore dark-red 
 piony leaves, or white and lead-colored 
 hollyhocks ; their swords were made 
 of grass blades, so heavy and stiff* they 
 almost weighed the little things down. 
 
 " You would not wonder that there 
 3* 
 
30 THE FAIRIES. 
 
 are so many spider webs on a summer 
 morning, if you could see how many 
 the fairies need ; how useful they are 
 — I mean they seemed to be in my 
 dream. 
 
 " They used them, in different sizes, 
 for skip ropes, and swings, and to 
 fasten their tents, and harness their 
 horses, and sew their delicate flower- 
 dresses together. 
 
 " I could not imagine what they were 
 about, when they all began treading 
 the grass down in a little circle, and 
 only left standing one tall, stout straw ; 
 but soon tney unrolled a beautiful 
 great spider web, and taking it by the 
 edges, flew up into the air to shake it 
 smooth ; then stretched it over the 
 straw into a tent, which they tied 
 tight on every side to grass roots. 
 
THE FAIRIES. 31 
 
 " They sprinkled the floor with moss, 
 and made beds of velvet rose leaves, 
 and tied together violets for pillows, 
 and hung up some lily-of-the-valley 
 bells for the little women to ring if 
 they wanted help ; then the gentlemen 
 fairies rode away and left them to 
 their nap ; only one or two servants 
 staid at the door, with great fans 
 made of butterfly wings, to drive off 
 bugs and flies." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FAIRIES RIDK 
 
 UCH horses as the 
 fairy men had ! some 
 were flies, and some 
 were beetles ; one 
 hopped off on a tiny- 
 toad, and one scram- 
 bled up on the back 
 of a bird, and clung 
 to her neck while 
 she flew out of sight, 
 far up above the pines. Some of them 
 had chosen grasshoppers ; but they 
 jolted their riders well with their long, 
 stiff legs and funny hops. One went 
 gliding off on the back of a little 
 striped snake ; and one or two sat on 
 
 (32) 
 
Such horses as the fairy men had.— p. 32 
 
THE fairies' ride. 33 
 
 a broad, green lily leaf, and floated in 
 the brook. 
 
 " A few sleepy ones lagged behind ; 
 some of these rolled themselves in 
 cool plantain leaves, and soon began 
 to snore ; some climbed into empty 
 birds' nests, and lay there rocking in 
 the breeze, the leaves all fluttering 
 round them, and the mosquitos blow- 
 ing their trumpets, but not biting, for 
 I suppose they dont like the taste of 
 fairy flesh; and some, dancing about 
 till they were wide awake, perched 
 themselves on the rail fence that 
 runs through the wood, and began to 
 fasten buttons on their curious little 
 vests, and darn up rents in their velvet 
 cloaks. 
 
 " Pretty soon I heard a great tram- 
 pling over the grass, and back the riders 
 
34 THE fairies' ride. '; 
 
 came, in the greatest glee, singing and 
 laughing, and their cheeks as red as 
 cherries in the sun. 
 
 " They all had wreaths of grass on 
 their heads, such as Blanchie had made 
 for me, only their heads were so small 
 that the wreaths looked like parasols, 
 and made the prettiest little shadows 
 dance round them on the grass." 
 
 "But how can you remember all 
 these little things, Elise '? " interrupted 
 Henry ; " and how came you to notice 
 sunbeams and shadows, and to think 
 that the sky was looking down to see 
 Blanche r' 
 
 " O, aunt Dora walks with us very 
 often, and she points out ever so many 
 things I never noticed before, and tells 
 us we must always be looking to find 
 what is beautiful and curious. No 
 
THE fairies' ride. 35 
 
 matter how many questions we ask, 
 she is never tired of answering them ; 
 but my story is almost finished ; may 
 I go on r' 
 
 " O, yes ; I am delighted with it," 
 said Henry ; " and we needn't ask 
 Blanche, for here she sits, with her 
 eyes wide open, waiting to hear about 
 the fairy people." 
 
 Blanche did not answer a word, but 
 kept her eyes fixed on Elise, who 
 proceeded. 
 
 
 ^^M 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WHAT THE FAIRIES BROUGHT HOME. 
 
 EHIND every one 
 of the fairy riders 
 was a saddle bag 
 [made of stout leaves, 
 I and filled with what- 
 ever he had discovered 
 in the wood. 
 
 " One had his bag 
 crowded with mosqui- 
 tos; he had stunned 
 them with a blow of his beetle hatch- 
 et, and crumpled them, legs, and wings, 
 and all together. As he pulled them 
 out, the fairy ladies exclaimed how fat 
 they were, and told how they would 
 boil them into a delicious soup. 
 
WHAT THEY BROUGHT HOME. 37 
 
 " One had, he said, some beautiful 
 emeralds, which he had shaken oiF 
 from a rose leaf; but when he came to 
 pour them out upon a mushroom that 
 stood before the tent, the silly fellow 
 found they w^ere only drops of dew, 
 which had looked green because they 
 rested on the leaf. The fairies had a 
 good laugh over his mistake. 
 
 " One had brought some butterfly 
 down, crimson, purple, bright brown, 
 and silver and gold. This, he said, he 
 would weave into a furry cape for the 
 fairy he loved best. One had nipped 
 off the honeyed ends of some flower 
 tubes ; one had brought drops of fra- 
 grant pitch from the pines ; one had 
 gathered the pollen out of roses and 
 lilies, for spice ; one had brought some 
 wintergreen berries; and the queer 
 4 
 
38 WHAT THEY BROUGHT HOME. 
 
 little fellow who rode on a toad, had 
 sawed off the stem of a pitcher-plant 
 that was full of dew, and tried to 
 bring it home ; but the toad, in scram- 
 bling through the grass, had spilled al- 
 most every drop; and besides, had 
 bruised the fairy's mantle, scratched 
 his face, and almost shaken him off. 
 
 "While they were talking, and show- 
 ing their treasures, one of the fairy 
 girls — a lovely creature in a violet- 
 colored robe — had picked a buttercup, 
 stitched the leaves nicely together, and 
 torn out the stamens ; so it looked like 
 a beautiful golden bowl. 
 
 " She filled this with dew almost to 
 the brim, cooled it with some flakes 
 of snow that one of the fairies had 
 found in a cave, and sweetened it with 
 honey ; for one of them had brought 
 
WHAT THEY BROUGHT HOME. 39 
 
 home the bag of a bee ; then she 
 sprinkled in a little rose dust to flavor 
 it, and stirred it with the spicy, hon- 
 eyed pistil of an orange blosom. 
 
 " The bowl was passed around, and 
 all the fairies drank. Just as one of 
 the little men was bringing it to me, I 
 awoke and found myself lying all 
 alone with Blanchie in the wood ; her 
 honeysuckle wreath had not faded, 
 only on one side the flowers were 
 crushed, where she had slept on them ; 
 we picked up our berries and flowers, 
 and I hurried home to tell aunt Dora 
 my dream." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AUNT DORA. 
 
 UT who is tlds aunt 
 Dora you talk so much 
 about ] " asked Henry. 
 "O, I can tell," 
 exclaimed Blanch ; 
 "she is mother's sis- 
 ter ; she is real kind, 
 and beautiful, too, and 
 she tells the nicest 
 stories, funny as they 
 can be; sometimes they make you 
 laugh, and sometimes cry." 
 
 " Yes, we think every thing of aunt 
 Dora," said Elise ; " and I knew one 
 thing, I am sorry enough that she is 
 going to be married this summer." 
 
 (40) 
 
AUNT DORA. 
 
 41 
 
 " Why, don't you like the gentleman 
 she has chosen ] " asked Henry, sud- 
 denly. 
 
 " I don't know him ; and he will not 
 care for us, nothing but little girls ; 
 for he is a minister, the new minister 
 who is going to preach in this very 
 church. I know that when aunt Dora 
 is with him, we shall feel afraid, and 
 perhaps he will send us away." 
 
 " But some ministers are very fond 
 of children, and are always glad to 
 have them near," said Henry. " I 
 would not feel troubled until I had 
 seen this new uncle, if I were you. 
 And now, Blanchie, you must give me 
 a kiss, for I am going home." 
 
 " O, I'll give you twenty," said 
 Blanche ; " but see, I have made you 
 a wreath of grass, just like the one 
 4* 
 
42 AUNT DORA. 
 
 'Leedy wore in the wood ; let me put 
 it on your head, and perhaps it'll make 
 you have fairy dreams." 
 
 "• Why, how funny a man would 
 look in a wreath ! " laughed Elise ; 
 but Henry stooped while the little girl 
 fastened her wreath about his brown, 
 curly hair, and whispered to him, " I 
 love you better than any one else in 
 the world, except aunt Dora, and 
 mother, and father, and 'Leedy." 
 
 Henry picked up his straw hat, but 
 did not put it on until he was out of 
 sight ; he kept looking back and bow- 
 ing to Blanchie, and the last she saw 
 of him, the wind was blowing his hair 
 away from the high, white forehead, 
 and tangling it in among the grass, as 
 he disappeared. 
 
 Elise and Blanche went home, talk- 
 
AUNT DORA. 43 
 
 iiig all the way about their new ac- 
 quaintance, and w^ondering if he had 
 come to live in the village, and if 
 they should ever meet him when they 
 went to walk. 
 
 Blanche said she should look into 
 the churchyard the very next morn- 
 ing, on her way to school ; but Elise 
 told her that they must take care and 
 not be troublesome, as he might not 
 always feel like talking with them. 
 
 But Blanchie seemed to think that 
 the churchyard was the stranger's 
 home, and to feel as sure of finding 
 him there, as of finding the buttercups 
 and dandelions, and the old oak tree. 
 
 All that afternoon she watched the 
 sky, and wondered if the next day 
 would be pleasant. Then she would 
 run to the garden, and look over and 
 
44 AUNT DORA. 
 
 over again at her flowers, to see if the 
 buds would be open by another day ; 
 for she meant to gather a beautiful 
 bunch, and give them — to whom do 
 you suppose '? 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 BLANCHIE S GARDEN. 
 
 HE last visit aunt 
 Dora made, she had 
 persuaded Mrs. Ellis 
 to give her c-hildren 
 a piece of ground in 
 her garden, and seeds 
 and plants, and to let 
 % them take care of 
 ^ it themselves, and 
 gather flowers when- 
 ever they chose. 
 In the spring the gardener would dig 
 and rake it for them, and he taught 
 them how to plant seeds ; and how to 
 tell which were weeds and which 
 flowers, after they came up. Elise 
 
 (45) 
 
46 blanchie's garden. 
 
 learned very fast, but Blanche was apt 
 to pull up her asters and balsams, and 
 leave nice little patches of sorrel, purs- 
 lain, and pigweed. 
 
 All around this garden they had a 
 border of box, like a little hedge ; and 
 it ran across the middle, so as to divide 
 Blanchie's from 'Leedy's part. Some- 
 times the gardener would give them 
 a gillyflower, or a rose in full bloom, 
 from the greenhouse ; then they 
 would dig a place with their trowels^ 
 and sink the pot in the earth, till it 
 looked as if it had grown there all 
 summer long. 
 
 'Leedy's garden looked very much 
 like her mother's ; the plants grew in 
 pretty bunches, and some of them 
 were fastened up with neat little 
 frames or sticks. She had one tall 
 
blanchie's garden. 47 
 
 carnation, with bright red spicy- 
 flowers ; from this she picked as many 
 as twenty blossoms during the sum- 
 mer; and they looked beautifully in 
 vases, or in the bouquets she gave 
 away. 
 
 Then Elise had some delicate little 
 German forget-me-nots, with flowers 
 not more than large enough to make 
 a wreath for a doll ; and she had even- 
 ing primroses, that do not blossom 
 until almost dark ; and then the buds 
 burst all at once, and they look like 
 beautiful great white butterflies scat- 
 tered over the garden. 
 
 But Blanche's garden was a funny 
 place; she wanted to have so many 
 difierent things in it, and she changed 
 her mind so many times in the day. 
 
 There was a bunch of millet for her 
 
48 blajnchie's garden. 
 
 canary bird, and a patch of chick- 
 weed ; and there were tall blades of 
 corn, which Blanchie was fond of 
 parching in winter time ; and a great 
 staring sunflower, for Banty and the 
 other hens. They love to tear out the 
 fat ripe seeds, and nothing pleased 
 Blanche so much as to scatter these 
 handfuls, and watch the chickens 
 scampering here and there, and tread- 
 ing on each other's toes, to pick 
 them up. 
 
 In one corner she had a hill of po- 
 tatoes for a poor old man who used to 
 work in her father s garden ; he had 
 grown too old and sick to do it any 
 more, and he lived all alone by him- 
 self, in a black old tumble-down 
 house ; his name was Eli, and he 
 loved Blanche dearly. 
 
blanchie's garden. 49 
 
 She had plenty of caraways, be- 
 cause she liked them in seed-cakes, 
 and thought they would taste better 
 coming out of her own garden. There 
 was a melon vine, too, which came up 
 of itself ; and Blanche was on the point 
 of throwing it away for a weed, when 
 the gardener told her to wait a little 
 while. 
 
 It kept running and running along 
 the ground, and had beautiful striped 
 leaves ; one morning she found a bud, 
 and this opened into a handsome flower, 
 yellow as gold. 
 
 Very soon the flower wilted, and 
 Blanche was so disappointed that she 
 wanted again to pull up the whole 
 vine ; but the gardener kept saying, 
 " Only wait, and you'll have a nice 
 melon yet." 
 5 
 
50 blanchie's garden. 
 
 Surely enougli, there came one, at 
 first as large as a nut ; but it grew 
 every day ; so fast, that Blanche used 
 often to measure it with her apron, and 
 make a deep crease where the measure 
 ended, so as to find the next day how 
 much larger her melon had become ; 
 but somehow, when the next day 
 came, the crease was always gone. 
 
 She tried to have one border of 
 flowers ; and in a corner of her gar- 
 den John had planted some candy- 
 tuft, in a great D, because that stands 
 for Dora ; but she had not many be- 
 sides her rosebush and gillyflower. 
 
 Sometimes, when Blanche was walk- 
 ing home from school, she would pick 
 all the gay flowers she could find, hur- 
 ry down to her garden and set their 
 stems into the ground, as if they were 
 
blanchie's garden. 51 
 
 growing ; but of course these quickly 
 wilted in the sun, as they had not 
 any roots ; and then such dismal look- 
 ing things you never saw, with the 
 brown, faded leaves and buds. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 
 
 LANCHE was very 
 fond of flowers. It 
 ^g-.,^,.„Ta^# delighted her to stay 
 ^^^^B^^S^ i^ the greenhouse, 
 ^wandering about 
 
 wherever the gardener 
 ' went, watching him 
 ^work, and asking all 
 kinds of questions 
 : about all kinds of 
 things. 
 There were vines trained all over 
 the glass, and hanging from these, 
 great bunches of white and purple 
 grapes, as sweet and juicy as they 
 could be, Blanche knew, for she had 
 
 (52) 
 
BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 53 
 
 often eaten them ; and tlTere were light 
 passion-flower vines, covered with ten- 
 drils and rich purple flo'wers ; and ole- 
 anders, looking like bunches of bright 
 pink roses ; and orange trees, full of 
 fragrant blossoms, and ripe yellow 
 fruit. 
 
 There was one plant which she ad- 
 mired very much, it was so curious ; if 
 her dress brushed it as she ran past, 
 drops of honey would shake out from 
 every flower; then she would stand 
 and watch till another drop would 
 come creeping into each nectary, as 
 bright and clear as dew; this had a 
 long name, that Blanche could never 
 remember ; so I don't think there i& 
 any use in telling it to you ; it is, I 
 believe, one kind of honeysuckle. 
 
 Another strange thing was a sensi 
 5* 
 
54 BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 
 
 tive plant, with wide branches full of 
 delicate little leaves, which spread out 
 on every side, as if they enjoyed the sun- 
 shine ; but whenever any one touched 
 the branches, these leaves would close 
 so fast together you could hardly pick 
 them apart again with a pin. 
 
 The gardener was growing old, and 
 had the rheumatism so much that his 
 back had become stiff, and it was 
 hard for him to stoop very often ; so 
 Blanche would stand beside him, and 
 pick up, one by one, the tiny flower 
 pots, when he was transplanting seeds 
 or cuttings. 
 
 This was a little thing for her to do, 
 but a great help to him ; and Blanche 
 was such a loving little soul, that it 
 was pleasure enough for her to make 
 any one happy ; she did not ask any 
 other reward. 
 
BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 55 
 
 But often the gardener would think 
 how kind she was to leave her play 
 for the sake of pleasing him ; so he 
 would pick her whatever she wanted 
 most among his flowers. 
 
 One day he gave her the largest, 
 sweetest bunch of grapes ; he made 
 her pick off* one or two to see how nice 
 they were, so ripe you could see every 
 seed through the clear skin ; then he 
 picked some beautiful tea-roses, and 
 some cunning little pink monthly 
 roses, and heliotropes, and pinks. 
 
 Blanche thought she had never seen 
 a prettier, brighter bouquet, and was 
 going home to ask her mother if she 
 might not invite Libby and Alice to 
 come and share it with her. 
 
 She thought, as she hurried along 
 the garden walk, that if her mother 
 
56 BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 
 
 said "yes," they could bring their 
 dolls, have a kind of a doll party, and 
 spread out her little China tea set ; and 
 what do you suppose she meant to 
 have for supper ? Grapes and caraway 
 seeds ! 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OLD ELI. 
 
 ER mother stood in 
 the doorway, dressed 
 for a walk: Blanche 
 showed her flowers, 
 and asked eagerly if 
 she might do as she 
 wished. 
 
 Mrs. Ellis thought 
 a moment, and then 
 said, " Perhaps so. I 
 
 cannot tell yet. Put your flowers in 
 
 water, and we will take a little walk ; 
 
 by the time we come home I shall have 
 
 made up my mind." 
 
 telanche was always delighted to go 
 
 with her mother, and flew away to do 
 
 (57) 
 
58 OLD ELI. 
 
 as she was bid ; she danced down the 
 avenue, opened the gate, and waited 
 till her mother came ; then off again, 
 as if the wind were blowing her. She 
 ran back at last, with her hands full 
 of ripe blackberries and buttercups; 
 but Mrs. Ellis said, — 
 
 "We are going to see a poor old 
 sick man ; don't you want to carry them 
 to him ] " 
 
 Blanche was delighted, and could 
 hardly wait until they reached Eli's 
 door. When they went in, she waited 
 until her mother had spoken, then 
 went to the bed side with her flowers, 
 and poured the berries out of her little 
 hand, all stained with their juice, into 
 the hand of the sick man which was 
 pale and wrinkled, and almost as cold 
 as if he were dead. 
 
OLD ELI. 59 
 
 He thanked her, and told how much 
 he loved flowers, and how often he had 
 seen her digging in her little garden ; 
 then he put the berries, one by one, 
 into his mouth, and smacked his lips, 
 told how sweet they were, and how he 
 could almost taste the sunshine that 
 had ripened them. 
 
 Blanche watched him, her eyes 
 sparkling with joy ; then she whispered 
 to her mother a moment, the door 
 opened, and away she ran towards 
 home. , 
 
 Mrs. Ellis and Eli were talking to- 
 gether so busily about his sickness, 
 and some clothes she was having made 
 for him, that they hardly missed 
 Blanche ; until the latch rattled, kept 
 rattling, — for she was not tall enough 
 to open it, — and her mother arose to 
 let her in. 
 
60 OLD ELI. 
 
 She was out of breath, she had run 
 so fast ; her cheeks were red as roses ; 
 and her curly hair was flying all about 
 the brim of her straw hat ; she had, 
 folded up in the very leaves the gar- 
 dener cut for her to take them home 
 in, her bunch of grapes; and she 
 had brought besides all her flowers. 
 
 You never saw any one as pleased 
 as old Eli when she gave them to him ; 
 he looked at each of the flowers sep- 
 arately, and held up both, of his hands, 
 and even the tears rolled down his old, 
 withered cheeks. 
 
 Blanche asked her mother what he 
 could be crying about, and couldn't 
 very well understand why a person 
 should cry because he was happy. 
 
 But old Eli had not many friends, 
 and was so poor that he lived on the 
 
OLD ELI. 61 
 
 simplest food. There was nt thing in 
 his house except what he really need- 
 ed ; crockery cups and saucers, and 
 chairs he had made himself; so you 
 may judge how glad he was of ^^the 
 flowers, which were beautiful enough 
 to ornament a palace, and the deli- 
 cious, juicy grapes. 
 6 
 
/ 
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN. 
 
 FTER this visit, 
 Blanche went to see 
 > Eli almost every day ; 
 and he grew so fond 
 of her that he would 
 listen for hours, ex- 
 Ipecting her, and, 
 when he heard those 
 little quick footsteps 
 approachin g, would 
 hobble over to open the door, and look 
 so pleased, and listen so eagerly to all 
 the little girl could tell him. 
 
 Eli had made a nice little cricket 
 on purpose for Blanche; had stuffed 
 and covered it with a piece of bright, 
 
 (62) 
 
 \-^$t^ 
 
 ^^^^^ 
 
\ 
 
 BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN. 63 
 
 blue leather, which some one had 
 given him. 
 
 So, after she had shown him the 
 things her mother had sent, and the 
 flowers she had picked up on the way, 
 she would sit down at the old man's 
 feet, and tell him about her pets and 
 her garden, and all about things in 
 the greenhouse, and her studies at 
 school. 
 
 If Blanche had not behaved well, 
 and had been punished at home, she 
 always told Eli ; because he was sure 
 to be sorry for her, and tell her not to 
 be discouraged, but try again, and see 
 if she could not do better. 
 
 When she had a present of a new 
 book, or received a little note from 
 aunt Dora, she would take them to 
 him, though he could not read a word. 
 
64 BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN. 
 
 Elise would read the note to her until 
 she knew it by heart, so she could tell 
 every thing it said; and there was 
 often a message for him ; when there 
 was, he felt so pleased that he made 
 Blanche say it over two or three 
 times. 
 
 He often told her how glad she 
 ought to be that she could go to 
 school, and learn to read and write, 
 and to do many other things. 
 
 So that when she grew old, if she 
 should be poor, and obliged to live all 
 by herself, she need not be lonely, but 
 could read and think. 
 
 Sometimes Blanche and EHse would 
 go together to the old man's house; 
 and while she was playing with her 
 doll, her older sister would read aloud, 
 out of the Bible, or one of their own 
 story books. 
 
BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN. 65 
 
 Eli liked the Bible best; but he 
 knew that the stories were more inter- 
 esting to them. For this reason he 
 would often ask for one, when all the 
 while he was longing to hear the good 
 book, which told about the beautiful 
 heaven that would very soon be his 
 home. 
 
 You see by this, that no one is so 
 weak and poor but he can give up 
 something, and do something to make 
 others happy. I have known people 
 who were strong and rich, and said 
 they would like to make every one as 
 comfortable as themselves, only they 
 didn't know how. 
 
 The trouble was, they were not 
 
 willing, like Eli, to give up their own 
 
 wishes for the sake of others. 
 6# 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE RAINY DAY. 
 
 ' OW we will go back 
 to the day when 
 Blanche and Elise 
 were resting under 
 the oak in the church- 
 yard ; and the strange 
 gentleman they liked 
 so much, sat down on 
 the grass to talk with 
 them. 
 
 Blanche, as I told you, wandered 
 about the house all the rest of that 
 afternoon; wondering if it would be 
 fair to-morrow, and laying plans in 
 case she should see Henry again : you 
 may judge of her disappointment when 
 
 (66) 
 
THE RAINY DAY. 67 
 
 she awoke the next morning, and found 
 that it rained fast. 
 
 Her mother seemed pleased ; for she 
 said it was pleasant to have a quiet, 
 rainy day now and then : one could 
 read and sew, without any danger 
 of interruption. She was cutting out 
 some work, and Elise was seated at 
 her desk, to write a long letter to 
 aunt Dora; but poor Blanche did not 
 feel like reading, and even grew tired 
 of her dolls. 
 
 She went from window to window, 
 and could only see heavy, lead-colored 
 clouds in the sky, and her bantam 
 paddling about in the rain ; his 
 smooth, white feathers all rough and 
 muddy. She thought of the gardener 
 working among his beautiful flowers, 
 and wished she had wings like a bird, 
 
68 THE RAINY DAY. 
 
 that she might fly to the greenhouse, 
 and make him a call. 
 
 Then she thought of old Eli, how 
 he would sit alone all day, with his 
 hands folded ; no pleasant sunshine to 
 brighten up his little room, no Elise to 
 read to him, no Blanche to tell him 
 stories. She felt glad that 'Leedy had 
 stopped on her way home, the day be- 
 fore, to leave him some of the flowers 
 they gathered in the wood: he could 
 look at their delicate leaves, and think 
 of the good God who is willing to 
 take so much pains with those tiny 
 things ; and yet who loves each of his 
 children better than a great many 
 flowers. 
 
 Then Blanche went to the table 
 where her mother was sitting, and 
 watched her measure, and pin the pat- 
 
THE RAINY DAY. €9 
 
 terns down, and cut out the cloth for 
 her father's shirts; and then baste 
 them nicely together, and make each 
 into a little roll, ready for the seam- 
 stress. 
 
 On the table lay a piece of cloth 
 that was like cotton on one side, but 
 on the other soft and warm as wool. 
 This was cotton-flannel, Mrs. Ellis 
 said, and made very comfortable 
 clothes. 
 
 " How I do wish Eli could have a 
 shirt from it ! Why won't you make 
 him one, mother 1 " asked Blanche. 
 
 " I cannot, because I have so much 
 work to do," answered her mother; 
 "what a pity it is that the old man 
 has not some friend who has plenty 
 of time, and is willing to work for 
 him!" 
 
70 THE RAINY DAY. 
 
 " O, I have time, and no one else 
 can be more willing," said Blanche. 
 " Pray let me try, mother — you shall 
 see how nicely I'll sew ! " 
 
 " But if you begin it, my dear, you 
 must finish all the plain sewing ; and 
 there are a great many seams : you 
 must promise not to leave one of 
 them." 
 
 " Not a single one ; only let me 
 begin." 
 
CHAPTIE XV. 
 
 BLANCHE AT WORK. 
 
 L A N C H E sewed 
 away bravely for half 
 an hour, hardly speak- 
 ing a word ; then she 
 began to look over her 
 work, and count the 
 seams, and wonder 
 how many more she 
 must do; at last she 
 laid it down, and went 
 to look out of the window. 
 
 So she idled away a whole hour ; but 
 her mother said nothing ; for she knew 
 that little girls, who are not accustomed 
 to work, are easily tired when they at- 
 
 (71) 
 
72 BLANCHE AT WORK. 
 
 tempt it ; and she was willing to have 
 Blanche rest a while. 
 
 But when she came back to stand by 
 the table again, and sigh, and wish it 
 wouldn't rain, and that she had some- 
 thing to amuse her, Mrs. Ellis asked 
 if she had finished the shirt. 
 
 " Why, no, indeed, mother ; and I'm . 
 so sick of the old thing, I do wish you 
 had never cut it out. My thread 
 tangled and kept breaking, and my 
 hands grew so warm, that the needles 
 bent ; and see this spot where I pricked 
 my finger, and it bled ; and see these 
 great gobbly places. O, dear ! " and 
 she threw it down again impatiently. 
 '' It is worse even than my dolls. 
 I thought they were troublesome 
 enough." 
 
BLANCHE AT WORK. 73 
 
 " But, Blanchie, your dolls do not 
 need to be dressed : they are just as 
 well without it; for they are only 
 made of cloth and sawdust ; they do 
 not have cold hands and feet, and poor 
 old aching bones, like Eli." 
 
 " No, mother ; and after I have 
 worked for them, they cannot look 
 pleased about it, and be so happy that 
 it makes me happy too, as poor old Eli 
 does." 
 
 Just then Elise came into the room; 
 and when Blanche told her what she was 
 doing, said she would help a little while. 
 So the sisters sat near together, and 
 the way their needles flew ! They 
 took stints ; and though 'Leedy always 
 finished first, Blanche did not care ; 
 for she said it was only because she 
 was younger than Elise. 
 7 
 
74 BLANCHE AT WORK. 
 
 Now and then she pricked her fin- 
 ger, or looked up with a sorrowful 
 face, because a knot had come in her 
 thread ; but Elise would untangle it, 
 and before very long they came to the 
 end of the last seam. 
 
 Blanchie's little hands were never 
 so cramped before — the fingers fairly 
 ached ; and she wondered if Eli's felt 
 any worse when he had the rheuma- 
 tism. 
 
 Mrs. Ellis was so pleased with her 
 children's industry, that she left her 
 own work, in order to finish off the 
 shirt; so that Blanche could carry it 
 to Eli the very next day. 
 
 She told them that, if the old man 
 was willing, they might have a little 
 party at his house ; might take their 
 supper in a basket, and invite Minnie 
 
BLANCHE AT WORK. 
 
 75 
 
 and Libby to go with. them. They 
 felt sure Eli would be as delighted as 
 they were themselves with the plan, 
 and went to bed thinking that, after 
 all, it is not so bad to have, now and 
 then, a rainy day. 
 
 'g^r^ 
 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 ELI'S PARTY. 
 
 j HE next morning, 
 I bright and early, 
 : Blanche was at the 
 window, looking up 
 at the sky ; which was 
 clear and blue as 
 though there had 
 never been such a 
 [ thing as a cloud. 
 The trees all shone 
 in the sun, their leaves were washed 
 so clean from dust ; aftd the grass hung 
 heavy with glittering rain drops. 
 
 The bantam came in sight, as clean 
 as though he had just been washed; 
 he clapped his wings and crowed, at 
 
 (76; 
 
ELI'S PARTY. 77 
 
 the sight of Blanche. Then a thrush, 
 fluttered out from a bush, and flew far, 
 far up mto the sky ; singing so charm- 
 ingly, singing the same notes over and 
 over again, as if he were saying, " O, I 
 am glad, glad, glad! and I mean to tell 
 it till the air is full of my joy, and every 
 one who hears it will be glad as I ! " 
 
 Blanche wished that she could fill 
 the whole world with music and glad- 
 ness, once, like the thrush ; she 
 thought, " At least, we can sing to old 
 Eli this afternoon, fill his little room 
 with music, and make him feel as glad 
 as we." 
 
 It was Wednesday, and school would 
 only keep half a day ; so they had 
 plenty of time. Elise washed the 
 breakfast cups, so that Biddy could 
 make them some cake; and Blanche 
 7* 
 
78 ELl's PARTY. 
 
 ran down to her friend the gardener, 
 and told him her mother wished for a 
 handsome bouquet, to stand in the cen- 
 tre of the table. 
 
 While he was arranging the flowers, 
 she went to Eli's house, tapped on the 
 window, and laughed at his surprise 
 because she came so early. He w^as 
 very much pleased at the thought of 
 their visit, and that was all Blanche 
 could wait to hear ; but the old man 
 called her back to ask if he could in- 
 vite one friend of his own. 
 
 She thought it would be very funny 
 if he could not ask whom he chose to 
 his own house. 
 
 Mrs. Ellis told Blanche that if she 
 did not learn her lesson well that 
 morning, she would be obliged to keep 
 her at home in the afternoon; and 
 
ELI'S PARTY. 79 
 
 Blanche studied hard, as you may sup- 
 pose ; but never a lesson was so diffi- 
 cult, she thought; the letters seemed 
 to change into cups and saucers, and 
 flowers, and dolls' faces, but she said 
 every word correctly at last. 
 
 I cannot tell you half they enjoyed 
 in their party. Mrs. Ellis was not 
 afraid to trust her children with Eli, 
 she knew him to be such a good old 
 man ; and she wanted them, besides, 
 to learn that the best and easiest way 
 of being happy ourselves, is to make 
 others happy. 
 
 They played games — Puss in the 
 Corner, Hunt the Slipper, and ever so 
 many more which Eli had never seen, 
 and which amused him greatly. He 
 was too lame to run about with them ; 
 but sat in his great chair, and watched 
 
80 ELI'S PARTY. 
 
 their play as eagerly as though he were 
 a child himself. 
 
 He asked Elise to stand up on a 
 stool, and take down a long, black 
 box, which lay on the closet shelf. It 
 was covered with dust ; for Eli said 
 it had not been opened for ten years ; 
 but he took out of it a violin, and 
 after a little tuning and scraping, 
 began to play all kinds of merry 
 tunes. 
 
 Blanche was delighted: she thought 
 this music better than the thrush's 
 song, and asked him why he had never 
 played to her before. 
 
 " O," said Eli, " I had forgotten all 
 about my violin, and was too sick and 
 low-spirited to play if I had remembered 
 it ; but this afternoon I feel like a 
 young man again, and now I must see 
 
Old Eli began to play all kinds of merry tunes.— p. 80. 
 
ELI'S PARTY. 81 
 
 you dauce. Come! here's a beauti- 
 fuljig." 
 
 But the children told him that they 
 never saw a jig : they could waltz and 
 dance quadrilles, which were as new to 
 him as- the jig to them. So he played 
 " The Campbells are coming," and 
 other old tunes, till he thought they 
 must be tired. 
 
 Then they began to ask him about 
 the jig, and he said he could show 
 them better how it went, if he stood 
 up on the floor: taking his cane, — for 
 he couldn't stand without it, — Eli 
 hopped and hobbled about so droUy, 
 that his company laughed outright; 
 and the more they laughed the faster 
 the old man danced, till they were 
 afraid that so much exercise would 
 make him sick. 
 
82 ELI'S PARTY. 
 
 He asked them to sing, and they 
 gathered close about him, and began. 
 You would have thought the room 
 was full of thrushes, their voices were 
 so fresh, and clear, and joyous. They 
 sang a great many little songs, and Eli 
 listened with tears rolling down his 
 cheeks ; for he said it made him think 
 of the bright heaven which is full of 
 music; and where he would grow young 
 again, and as happy as they. 
 
 Blanche never could bear to see any 
 one shed tears, even if they cried for 
 joy ; so she begged the others not to 
 sing any more, and asked Eli to tell 
 them one of his nice stories. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE OLD MAN S STORY. 
 
 ID I ever tell you 
 about the black mon- 
 key Jocko '? " 
 
 " O, no," said 
 Blanche, " and we'll 
 have it now; for I 
 know it's a good story 
 by the name. Mon- 
 keys do^ such funny 
 things ! " 
 " Well, then, when I was a boy, I 
 
 lived with your grandfather in Boston ; 
 
 he had a house upon Fort Hill, and 
 
 kept a great many servants. 
 
 " A brother of mine, who was a 
 
 sailor, brought home this monkey for 
 
 (83) 
 
84 THE. OLD man's STORY. 
 
 a present to me ; I thought it would 
 please the children, and asked your 
 grandfather if I might take it to the 
 house. Jock was a beautiful fellow, 
 black as ink, and glossy, and looked 
 so clean and so intelligent, that he was 
 quite pleased with the thought. 
 
 " So we had a carpenter come and 
 build a little house in the yard; and 
 many an apple and piece of cake 
 your grandfather brought home to 
 him. 
 
 " He wore^a bright brass chain ; for 
 we had to keep him tied, he was so 
 mischievous ; and even then he was 
 always at his pranks. , The sailors had 
 taught him to fire at a mark; so he 
 would pick up chips and bones in the* 
 yard, throw them upon the shed, and 
 then, with his long chain, go up him- 
 
THE OLD man's STORY. 85 
 
 self, and sit there, throwing these 
 things at the neighbors' cats and hens. 
 He was pretty sure to hit them; and 
 then he would chuckle, and grin, and 
 show his white teeth. 
 
 " Boston was not as thickly settled 
 then as now ; and almost every one in 
 our neighborhood, had a yard and gar- 
 den ; so, many kept hens, which used 
 to travel over our shed, clucking and 
 crowing, and to scratch in the garden 
 until they had burrowed up all our 
 seeds, and trampled over the linen that 
 the girls spread out to bleach. 
 
 " But we did not have much trouble 
 after Jocko came ; they would cluck 
 and run the moment they caught sight 
 of him. The neighbors were not very 
 fond of him, though they could not 
 help laughing when they watched his 
 
86 THE OLD man's STORY. 
 
 comical ways. He would wink and 
 beckon, and make up a mouth as if 
 he wanted to kiss them; then if they 
 came near, would show all his glisten- 
 ing white teeth, and scowl as if he 
 meant to eat them up. 
 
 " A lady who lived next door had a 
 beautiful little Maltese cat, which was 
 so very tame and gentle that she loved 
 it almost like a child. One day we 
 heard a mewing out in the yard ; and 
 then Jocko, chuckling and chattering ; 
 so I peeped out between the blinds, 
 and found he had caught the poor 
 pussy, and dressed her up in his own 
 jacket and hat, fastened her feet to- 
 gether, and tied her upon the top of 
 one of the tall clothes poles. She was 
 struggling and crying, but could not 
 escape; and there sat Jock grinning 
 
THE OLD man's STORY. 87 
 
 and making bows to her ! I took her 
 down quickly, you may be sure, and 
 shut Jock up a whole week for a 
 punishment ; but what do you think 
 he did, the first time w^e let him out 
 again] We heard a great clucking, 
 and crowing, and flapping of wings, 
 and heard Jock whine and scold as he 
 never did except when in great trouble, 
 so that I feared some one was killing 
 him. 
 
 " I ran quickly, and found your un- 
 cle, who was a little boy then, watch- 
 ing and laughing, though he was 
 frightened himself. 
 
 " He said that Jocko had caught a 
 white bantam, like the one you lost, 
 Blanchie ; had run upon the shed with 
 it, and sat there, holding her up with 
 both hands; looking into her face, pull- 
 
88 THE OLD man's STORY. 
 
 ing out a feather now and then with 
 his teeth, and mimicking her when the 
 poor frightened thing screamed. 
 
 "• But her mate, the little rooster, 
 heard the noise ; and when he found 
 what Jocko was about, flew upon his 
 head, and picked the monkey until he 
 let the bantam go. 
 
 " Poor Jock was frightened, and in 
 such pain that he rolled over and over 
 to shake the rooster off; but he would 
 not go until he had given such a claw- 
 ing and picking as Jocko never forgot ; 
 then he flew over the fence, and stood 
 crowing on the other side, while the 
 monkey sat in a corner, making faces 
 and shaking his fist. 
 
 " After that, we shortened Jocko's 
 chain ; but he never saw a hen with- 
 out putting one hand to his head — as 
 
THE OLD man's STORY. 89 
 
 if he remembered the rooster — and 
 making up a face. 
 
 " The drollest part of the story is 
 about the ghost in the cellar, and 
 how Jock frightened us all." 
 
 " But," said Blanchie, " mother says 
 we must never listen to ghost stories, 
 because they are not true, and they 
 only make us afraid of the dark; 
 while there are really no such things 
 as ghosts. 
 
 " And it's just what I'm telling you 
 this for — to show how foolish it is to 
 be afraid ; though I think you must 
 be tired now." 
 
 " Suppose we have the rest of the 
 story after tea," said Elise ; " and I 
 will set the table directly." 
 
 The children all ran for their bas- 
 kets, and Eli watched them with his 
 8* 
 
90 THE OLD man's STORY. 
 
 face all over smiles ; for I don't suppose 
 there had been as many good things 
 in the house, since his wife died, ten 
 long years before. 
 
 There were pears, and peaches, and 
 grapes ; and there were cookies in 
 plenty, and new milk, sponge cake and 
 gingerbread, nice little cups of custard, 
 and fresh bread and butter. 
 
 Blanchie had forgotten all about 
 her flannel shirt ; and when she drew 
 it from the basket, and Elise told him 
 he was to have two more like it, and 
 Minnie gave him a great paper of 
 sugar and tea which her mother had 
 sent, and Alice half a dozen glass 
 tumblers ; the old man could hardly 
 believe his eyes. He was especially 
 pleased with the tumblers, because he 
 had been thinking that they would all 
 
THE OLD man's STORY. 91 
 
 have to drink their milk from one 
 bowl ; and he said, too, that every 
 thing he drank would taste better, after 
 the rim of his glass had once been 
 sweetened by their young lips. 
 
 So the tumblers were set on the 
 table; the gardener's bouquet was in 
 one of them, and that left just one 
 apiece. 
 
 Eli did not wish to sit at the table 
 wdth his guests, but Elise told him 
 that it would not be polite to refuse ; 
 so they rolled his chair along, and ar- 
 ranged themselves on each side; they 
 relished their supper, but he was so 
 happy that he could not eat ; and con- 
 tented himself with looking at the 
 good things, and at the children. 
 
 After they had finished eating, Elise 
 set all the things away in the closet; 
 
92 THE OLD man's STORY. 
 
 and there were enough left to last Eli 
 for a week. Then Blanche reminded 
 him about the ghost story, and he 
 began. 
 
CHAPTER XYIIL 
 
 THE GHOST THAT TURNED TI^E COFFEE 
 MILL. 
 
 /^^^^OUR grandfather had 
 V'// gone to pass a week 
 in New York ; and 
 one of the evenings 
 Penny, the cook, 
 rushed into the par- 
 lor, almost frightened 
 out of her senses ; 
 -for she said there was 
 a ghost in the cellar 
 — the ghost of a man named Mur- 
 phy. 
 
 " Your grandmother asked her what 
 had put such a foolish thought in her 
 head. ' O,' said Penny, ' I was down 
 
 (93) 
 
94 THE GHOST OF THE COFFEE MILL. 
 
 at old Mrs. Murphy's last night, and 
 her son, a miserable fellow, lay there at 
 the very point of death ; he was afraid 
 to die, as he well might be, after so 
 many sins ; and begged me to forgive 
 him for telling wrong stories about me 
 once, so that I lost my place, and came 
 near being sent to jail. 
 
 " ' I knew the stories had been told, 
 but never knew that Murphy was the 
 man who told them ; and I was so 
 angry that I couldn't say I would for- 
 give him : he need not have been so 
 wicked. 
 
 " ' Then he beganto threaten, and said 
 if I did not promise, he would haunt 
 me all the rest of my life ; but that 
 only made me more angry ; and I told 
 him he might and welcome ; that I 
 didn't believe in ghosts ; and ' O, 
 
THE GHOST OF THE COFFEE MILL. 95 
 
 dear,' screamed Penny, ' there he is 
 again. Don't you hear him, ma'am 1 ' 
 
 " There was a strange grating, growl- 
 ing sound in the cellar ; at first your 
 grandmother thought it might be the 
 wind, which was blowing hard that 
 night ; so she took up a candle and told 
 Penny to follow her, saying they would 
 go down, and find where the trouble 
 lay. 
 
 " But Pen began to cry, and cling 
 to your grandmother, and say that she 
 should die if she saw him ; and she 
 felt sure it was Murphy's ghost. 
 
 " ' Why,' said Mrs. Ellis, ' if Mur- 
 phy has gone among the wicked, at 
 you think, he could not come back 
 again if he tried ever so hard ; they live 
 so far below this world ; and then they 
 would not allow him to escape ; and 
 
96 THE GHOST OF THE COFFEE MILL. 
 
 if he is forgiven, and has gone to live 
 among the angels, they are so good and 
 holy, and heaven is so beautiful a 
 place, that he would not leave it for 
 the sake of groping about in our 
 damp, dark cellar.' 
 
 " With that your grandmother opened 
 the cellar door, but I begged her to let 
 me go first ; as I was frightened myself, 
 and if harm must come to any one, I 
 would rather it should come to me 
 than to her ; especially as I had been 
 left in charge of the house, while the 
 other servants went away. 
 
 " We did not say a word ; but O, how 
 we trembled ! at least I did, and Penny, 
 who went too, because she was afraid 
 to stay alone up stairs. 
 
 " The wind blew up as damp as if it 
 was coming out of a tomb ; and just 
 
THE GHOST OF THE COFFEE MILL. 97 
 
 as we were half way across the cellar, 
 something was thrown at the candle, 
 and blew it out. Penny said that 
 while we were groping back, she heard 
 old Murphy laugh, just as he had done 
 the night before, when he threatened to 
 haunt her. 
 
 " We were no sooner up stairs, than 
 the noise began again ; and we both 
 begged your grandmother to go and 
 stay with one of the neighbors, while 
 we called men to search the house ; but 
 she only laughed, and told us to light 
 the tin lantern, and if we were so 
 much frightened, she would go alone. 
 
 " She suspected that it was one of the 
 other servants, or some mischievous boy 
 hidden there, trying to frighten us ; 
 and was resolved to detect and have 
 him punished if possible. 
 9 
 
9b THE GHOST OF THE COFFEE MILL. 
 
 " Still the naise kept grating, growl- 
 ing down there in the dark ; and now 
 we heard another noise, as if the ghost 
 were running away and clanking a 
 chain after him. We looked in every 
 corner, and there was nothing visible ; 
 but just as we were leaving the cellar, 
 your grandmother turned once more, 
 and actually saw the ghost ! 
 
 " He had a chain, truly enough, that 
 clanked and clattered after him ; and 
 he had glistening white teeth, went on 
 four legs, and had a long, black tail. 
 I never beheld a ghost before ; but 
 we all saw this in the end. 
 
 " Quick as lightning, when our backs 
 were turned, he leaped from his hiding- 
 place, a high beam ; flew across the cel- 
 lar, gave a turn to the handle of the 
 coffee mill, and was hurrying back 
 
THE GHOST OF THE COFFEE MILL. 99 
 
 again, when he caught your grand- 
 mother's eye. 
 
 " Then he stopped and began to 
 whine ; for once found out, he knew 
 very well that he would be punished. 
 You must have guessed, by this time, 
 that the name of the ghost was not 
 Murphy." 
 
 " O, no ; it was Jocko, I am sure ! " 
 exclaimed Elise. 
 
 '' Now, Eli, that isn't fair ! " said 
 Blanche. " I thought it was a real 
 live ghost you were telling us about." 
 
 "Why, dear child, has not your 
 mother said that there are no such 
 things as ghosts to be seen '? If spirits 
 come back to this world, your grand- 
 mother told us, they come only like 
 thoughts ; and perhaps while we, all 
 trembling, are looking about for their 
 
100 THE GHOST OF THE COFFEE MILL. 
 
 bodies, they themselves stand quietly 
 inside of our own minds." 
 
 "What became of Penny T' asked 
 Alice. 
 
 " She lived with Mrs. Ellis until 
 she became an old woman ; and many 
 a laugh we had about the black 
 ghost that haunted her. She felt that 
 it was a punishment she deserved, for 
 not being willing to forgive the poor 
 dying sinner. 
 
 " After that time she never laid up 
 anger against any one ; and you may 
 be sure she never believed in ghosts." 
 
 The old man's face lighted up as he 
 spoke, and he half rose from his chair. 
 The door opened, and a gentleman 
 walked in. 
 
 He was surprised to see Blanche, 
 with a cry of joy, spring towards the 
 
THE GHOST OF THE COFFEE MILL. 101 
 
 stranger, — it was no other than our 
 old friend Henry, who had been out 
 of town, and only received Eli's invita- 
 tion at that late hour. He had come 
 directly, wishing at least to tell the 
 children how sorry he felt at having 
 lost so much pleasure, and invite them 
 to take a walk with him on the next 
 Wednesday afternoon. 
 
 Just then John, the man, came to 
 announce that it was time they were 
 at home ; and all bade Eli good by, 
 saying they never passed such a short 
 and pleasant afternoon before, in their 
 
 lives. 
 
 9* 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE SILK WORMS. 
 
 ^^^)7\ It one end of Mr. 
 
 i Ellis's garden, was a 
 long building, used 
 for the raising of silk; 
 and Blanche spent a 
 great deal of time in 
 wandering about the 
 large rooms, watching 
 the men and women 
 at work, and the 
 worms and millers. 
 
 You must have heard that all the 
 fine silk, satin, and velvet, which we 
 see, is spun at first by little worms ; is 
 made out of the blanket in which they 
 
 (102) 
 
THE SILK WORMS. 
 
 103 
 
 fold themselves, when they leave off 
 eating and seem to die. 
 
 But I thmk you cannot know as 
 much about the makmg of silk as 
 Blanche did ; because not many chil- 
 dren can watch the process with their 
 own eyes. I will tell you something 
 about it; see if you think it strange 
 that she was interested. 
 
 In the summer, soon as mulberry 
 trees, upon which the worms feed, are 
 in leaf; the eggs, which are not larger, 
 each one, than the head of a small 
 pin, are brought from the ice house or 
 cellar, and spread upon frames in a 
 warm room. 
 
 These eggs are glued nicely over 
 sheets of paper, by the millers which 
 lay them; and they are light brown 
 or lead colored at first. 
 
104 THE SILK WORMS. 
 
 But when they begin to hatch, you 
 will notice them turning darker and 
 darker; until at last a hole is eaten 
 in one side, and a little shiny black 
 head peeps out ; and then the worm 
 itself, — very small, as you may know 
 from its living in so small a place. It 
 leaves the egg fastened to the paper 
 still, but white and transparent. 
 
 In a few days the papers are cov- 
 ered with these tiny creatures ; if you 
 should break the finest needle into 
 five or six pieces, each piece would 
 be about as large as a young silk 
 worm. 
 
 The youngest and tenderest leaves 
 of the mulberry are now gathered, 
 strown over the frames, and are soon 
 covered with worms, that eat off the 
 delicate green skin, and leave the 
 
THE SILK WORMS. 105 
 
 fibres, — which are tough, I suppose, 
 to their small mouths. 
 
 These creatures spend their whole 
 lives, from morning till night, in eat-' 
 ing ; of course they grow large and 
 fat; so that soon, instead of giving 
 them a few small twigs of mul- 
 berry, it requires several men to go 
 out twice a day with shears and great 
 baskets, to gather branches of leaves. 
 
 After a rain or heavy dew, each of 
 the leaves must be dried with a towel ; 
 as the worms are not fond of water, 
 and it makes them sick ; this is very 
 tedious work. 
 
 Have you ever seen a mulberry 
 tree ] It is quite handsome ; the 
 leaves are of a glossy, dark-green, and 
 it grows very luxuriantly. I have, 
 se^n single leaves large enough to 
 
106 THE SILK WORMS. 
 
 cover the seat of a chair ; and it has, 
 besides, juicy berries, which look like 
 raspberries, and are either maroon col- 
 ored or white. Some persons eat the 
 mulberry, but it is very sweet and in- 
 sipid, so that one soon growls tired of 
 it. But silk worms never grow tired 
 of eating the leaves ; they creep over 
 them, chewing and chewing; so that 
 when you enter a room full of frames, 
 covered with these worms, you would 
 think, from the rustling sound, that it 
 was raining hard. 
 
 How would you like to lead such 
 a life? You must remember that, 
 greedy as they seem, the worms do not 
 eat for themselves, as I shall show you 
 presently ; they give back more than 
 they receive. 
 
 I know a great many people who 
 
THE SILK WORMS. 107 
 
 only eat, and sleep, and amuse them- 
 selves, and do not even as much for 
 others, as the poor worms which they 
 despise. 
 
 Perhaps you would be a little afraid 
 to walk through the long rooms, as 
 Blanche used to; with three tiers of 
 frames on each side, and each frame 
 full of large, white worms, larger than 
 the caterpillars you see in the garden, 
 and without fur such as they have. 
 
 Blanche was too much accustomed 
 to them, to feel afraid ; she seldom went 
 without finding, before she left the 
 room, three or four worms upon her 
 dress, crawling over her neck, or on 
 her arm ; but she would only laugh, 
 stroke their soft backs, and lay them 
 gently upon the frames again. 
 
108 THE SILK WORMS. 
 
 She loved to break off large, fresh 
 leaves, and lay them over a frame ; in 
 two minutes, the worms would have 
 crawled upon them, eating ravenously; 
 she thought the leaves must taste as 
 good to them, as candy and cake 
 tasted to her. 
 
 About once in ten days the worms 
 moult; that is, their skin has grown 
 too small, and therefore they creep out 
 of it, with the new one which has 
 formed underneath. 
 
 While shedding this skin they feel 
 sick, I suppose ; for they do not move 
 about much, nor eat; but fix them- 
 selves upon some stem, and stand with 
 their heads in the air, in the drollest 
 way, looking like so many preachers ; 
 the dead skin wrinkles about their head 
 
THE SILK WORMS. 
 
 109 
 
 and makes them appear very old and 
 withered ; but when it is once cast off, 
 they come out looking fresh and hand- 
 some, and eating enough to make up 
 for lost time. 
 10 
 
 2?^£S 
 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS. 
 
 ^HEN they are fully 
 grown, the worms 
 turn away from food, 
 and creep into some 
 dark corner ; creep 
 under the leaves, or 
 behind some beam, or 
 under the table, to 
 spin their cocoons. 
 Usually, frames cov- 
 ered with a network of twine are 
 placed near, and into these they 
 crowd; each worm, winding himself 
 about with threads like a spider-web, 
 crossing from one side of the frame, 
 which is double, shutting like a back- 
 
 (110) 
 
THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS. Ill 
 
 gammon board, to the other ; and when 
 he has them strong enough, yon will 
 see that in the centre, instead of car- 
 rying his threads in every direction, he 
 begins to wind them in a circle about 
 himself. 
 
 At first, this circle is thin and al- 
 most transparent ; so that you can 
 watch his head turning from side to 
 side, across and across, working as 
 busily as he used to eat. At length 
 he is wholly out of sight ; but still 
 you can hear him moving inside, 
 where he works on until he has spun 
 out all his silk, and used up all his 
 strength. 
 
 If you should cut open a worm just 
 before he was ready to make his co- 
 coon, you would find only a clear, yel- 
 low liquid or gum; and this is the 
 
112 THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS. 
 
 beginning of our elegant velvets and 
 silks. 
 
 The worm has feelers, with which 
 he draws out several threads of this 
 gum, which hardens the instant it 
 meets the air, and becomes silk. 
 These threads he twists together with 
 his feelers, making them into one ; 
 which even then, is finer than a hair ; 
 and by twining them into a ball, he 
 produces the thing we call a cocoon, 
 — which is nothing more than his 
 coffin. 
 
 A cocoon is about as large as a wal- 
 nut; is light-yellow or white; and 
 looks like a little cotton bag, only it 
 has no opening. 
 
 If you should cut open a cocoon, 
 directly after it is finished, you would 
 find the worm all shrivelled up, little 
 
THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS. 113 
 
 more than a wrinkled skin, and appar- 
 ently dead. 
 
 By watching this from day to day, 
 you woujd find it grow drier, harder, 
 and darker, until it was like a shell 
 of brown — dark, and almost as hard as 
 a chestnut shell. 
 
 But touch it with your finger, and 
 you will find it moves a little — quiv- 
 ers as though it were hurt. It has no 
 eyes, no mouth or feet, is only a roll 
 with s.trange-looking marks about the 
 head, like ears : these marks, in time, 
 will change to wings. 
 
 To go back to the cocoons : when 
 silk is to be made from them, they are 
 taken from the frames, the loose silk 
 torn off, and then gathered into bas^ 
 kets. At Mr. Ellis's cocoonery the 
 10* 
 
114 THE LITTLE COFFIN MAKERS. 
 
 worms often made heaps of these 
 balls, higher than Blanche's head. 
 
 They are then baked in an oven. 
 This destroys the chrysalis inside, which- 
 is the brown thing I have described to 
 you, — all that is left of the worm ; — 
 then they are thrown into hot water, 
 reeled, and woven into silk fit for 
 dresses after it has been dyed ; or else 
 for sewing silk. 
 
 But if the cocoons are not baked, 
 and a few are usually kept for eggs, 
 you will find that, before long, one end 
 begins to grow wet and look dark ; and 
 then you will see two little feather-like 
 feelers come out; and at last what 
 went in a great worm, will creep forth 
 a pure white miller ! 
 
 These millers do not eat any thing ; 
 they are picked off from the cocoons, 
 
THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS. 115 
 
 and placed upon sheets of clean paper, 
 which tJiey cover all over with the tiny 
 eggs I told you about at first ; then 
 they fold their beautiful white wings 
 and die. 
 
 Blanche lives in America, you know, 
 and this is the way silk worms are 
 raised by Americans ; but in China 
 and other warm countries, they are not 
 all kept in houses : they live in the 
 open air, upon trees, like our cater- 
 pillars, and spin their cocoons among 
 the boughs ; though the finest kinds of 
 silk are always raised under shelter. 
 
 When you look at your own silk 
 gown or gay bonnet ribbon, you must 
 think of the poor little worms which 
 worked so hard, and even died, in order 
 that you might be finely dressed. 
 
 And you must think whether you 
 
116 THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS. 
 
 ever did half as much as this for the 
 comfort and happiness of others : you 
 would not want, I am sure, to be out- 
 done by a mere worm ! 
 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 blanchie's accident. 
 
 HE rooms in the co- 
 coonery were made 
 with trap doors in the 
 [floor; and Mrs. Ellis 
 [ had told Blanche that 
 I when one of these 
 I had been left open, 
 
 I she must e^o to an- 
 
 I 
 other room ; for in 
 
 playing near it, she 
 
 might easily fall and injure herself. 
 
 But Blanche had never seen the 
 
 worms wind their cocoons ; and 
 
 the only room in which they were 
 
 beginning, had three trap doors wide 
 
 open. She thought there could be no 
 
 (117) 
 
118 blanchie's accident. 
 
 harm for once ; she would be very care- 
 ful, and only remain a little while ; so 
 she walked on from frame to frame, 
 hardly seeing where she went, until 
 something upon her neck startled her. 
 
 She knew that silk worms never 
 bite, but this took hold closely, and 
 moved from side to side ; then she felt 
 threads go across, and all at once 
 thought it might be a spider. 
 
 It was a silk worm, which had 
 chosen Blanchie's white n€ck for a 
 frame, and was beginning to make his 
 cocoon. 
 
 The little girl put her hand 
 there, felt his cold back, started, and 
 fell. 
 
 She did not know any more until 
 she awoke in the cellar of the cocoon- 
 ery ; where it was damp and cold, and 
 
blanchie's accident. 119 
 
 filled with a disagreeable odor, from 
 the withered mulberry leaves and dead 
 worms. 
 
 Only a little light came in through 
 the trap door above ; she tried to call, 
 but was so frightened and so faint that 
 she could not speak a word. She 
 heard John saying that Mrs. Ellis had 
 sent him for Blanche ; it was long past 
 her school hour; but she could not 
 answer. 
 
 Then a man came with a great bas- 
 ket of dead leaves, which he began to 
 throw through the trap door. Blanche 
 thought that she would be buried, and 
 never see her mother and Elise again. 
 She thought how poor old Eli would 
 miss her ; and about the visit to Henry ; 
 and dear aunt Dora, who loved her so 
 well. 
 
120 blanchie's accident. 
 
 The man had stopped for some pur- 
 pose ; he came again with the leaves ; 
 one or two fell upon Blanchie's face. 
 She thought how horrible it would be 
 to have the door shut, and be left there 
 alive, with all those dead worms, and 
 rats, perhaps, running over her. 
 
 She heard John say, "It's a great 
 load : let me help you lift it." 
 
 " Yes," said the man ; " but it's a 
 deep cellar ; 'twould take many a load 
 like this to fill it up : only look 
 down." 
 
 John looked ; saw Blanche's pale 
 face away down there in the dark; 
 and in another second had jumped 
 through the doorway, and stood be- 
 side her. 
 
 She was very cold, and her eyes 
 were shut, for she had fainted again. 
 
blanchie's accident. 121 
 
 John thought her dead, and called for 
 the man to open the outer door and let 
 him bring her above. 
 
 A pitiful sight she was, when he 
 took her into the sunshine again ; her 
 muslin dress was torn and soiled ; her 
 hair was wet with blood ; and her face 
 as white as marble. 
 
 In this state she was carried home ; 
 and such a stir and fright as there was 
 in the house in consequence ! 
 
 Blanche, though, like other children, 
 she was sometimes disobedient, was yet 
 a very gentle and loving child, and had 
 many friends ; all of whom were sur- 
 prised and shocked when they heard 
 the news. She felt her mother's tears 
 falling upon her face, as she bent over 
 her ; and she heard John telling Biddy 
 how he found her in the cellar ; then 
 11 
 
122 blanchie's accident. 
 
 the gardener came running in to ^ee if 
 there was any hope, for he thought the 
 world of Blanche ; and as for poor old 
 Eli, they dared not tell him : his heart 
 would have broken at the thought of 
 losing his pet. 
 
 When, at last, Blanche could speak, 
 she tried to ask her mother to forgive 
 her disobedience; but Mrs. Ellis told 
 her not to think of that, she had suf- 
 fered more than enough for punish- 
 ment ; and the good mother kissed 
 her, and told her to try and sleep. 
 
 But just then the physician came. 
 He bandaged Blanchie's head, and said 
 that the wound was not very deep; 
 but one of her legs had been broken 
 by the fall, and it would be a great 
 while before she could run about 
 again. 
 
blanchie's accident. 123 
 
 The little girl suffered dreadfully 
 while the limb was dressed ; but she 
 did not complain, for though no one 
 had told her so, she knew that it was 
 all her own fault; and it made her feel 
 even worse, to see all about her so 
 gentle and kind. 
 
 Her mother staid with her that 
 night ; and though she still suffered, 
 it was beautiful to feel those tender 
 arms about her, and know that she 
 was yet to live on earth with her dear 
 friends. Before morning Blanche feU 
 into a quiet sleep. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Blanche's presents. 
 
 T was very hard, in 
 the long summer days, 
 to be shut up in one 
 ?room; and not even 
 able to walk across 
 that. Blanche had 
 i never kept quiet so 
 long before since she 
 first learned to walk. 
 Som^timts the tears 
 would come into her eyes, when Elise 
 bid her good by before going to 
 school ; and afterwards, when she 
 watched her sister skipping along 
 through thes unshine, stopping now 
 
 (124) 
 
Blanche's fresents. 125 
 
 and then, to pick a berry or flower, or 
 to kiss her hand to Blanche. 
 
 But Blanchie had a great deal to 
 amuse her ; every one seemed kind 
 and thoughtful, never tired of doing 
 for the invalid. The truth is, that 
 when she was well, Blanche had been 
 kind and thoughtful, never tired of 
 doing for others ; and now she was in 
 trouble, they remembered it. 
 
 You must not forget this, your own 
 turn may come to need friends; and 
 if you have none, think whether it is 
 not your own fault. 
 
 'Leedy seldom came from school 
 without something for Blanche ; the 
 boys wrote her little pieces of poetry, 
 or at least rhymes, and sent apples 
 and sugar-plums ; and the girls sent 
 notes, and pretty or droll pictures 
 11* 
 
126 Blanche's presents. 
 
 which they had drawn upon paper ; 
 even the teacher wrote her a note, and 
 sent a bunch of flowers. 
 
 Then the gardener came every morn- 
 ing to see Blanche, and to bring her 
 some beautiful flower, or a rich ripe 
 peach or pear, that had been picked off 
 from the sunny side of the tree, and 
 was all yellow and rosy without, and 
 honey-sweet Avithin. 
 
 And John, the man, would knock 
 at her door to say that old Eli had 
 sent his love, and hoped Miss Blanche 
 was better to-day, and asked her to 
 accept a little present he had made. 
 
 So John would take from his pocket 
 a set of garden tools, carved from 
 wood; or a queer little man or dog> 
 which Eli had cut with his penknife ; 
 and Blanche, who even while she was 
 
Blanche's presents. 127 
 
 sick and suiFering, remembered that 
 others too had pains and wants, would 
 divide her fruits and flowers with the 
 poor old man. 
 
 When John went to carry them, she 
 would watch from the window until 
 he was out of sight; and think how 
 pleased Eli would be, and fancy she 
 could see him holding up his hands 
 and exclaiming over them ; and her 
 own share would taste better, because 
 she had been generous; for every 
 mouthful she ate, Blanche could think 
 Eli's pear or peach must have tasted 
 just so juicy and sweet. 
 
 Aunt Dora sent a beautiful great 
 doll, with two or three sets of clothes, 
 that fastened with hooks and buttons, 
 like a grown-up person's ; and could be 
 as easily changed. It even had a 
 
128 Blanche's presents. 
 
 night gown and night cap ; and it had 
 a hood and cloak for every day, and a 
 bonnet and mantilla for great occa- 
 sions. 
 
 Aunt Dora wrote too, almost every 
 day, and told how much she would 
 like to be with her little niece; and 
 she told little stories about the farm, 
 and woods, and garden, the squirrels 
 and birds ; and about the chickens 
 that Blanche had seen when they were 
 tiny things just hatched from the egg, 
 and now had grown to great hens with 
 chickens of their own. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 WATCHING THE BIRDS. 
 
 LANCHE'S greatest 
 amusement, during 
 her lameness, was in 
 sitting by the window, 
 and watching the 
 thousand little things 
 that happen out of 
 doors. 
 
 The window of her 
 mother's room looked 
 into the garden ; and an elm tree grew 
 near the house, shading it from the 
 sun ; out from the window was a little 
 balcony ; and when the day was warm 
 and clear, Mr. Ellis would lift her 
 into this pleasant, shady place, where 
 
 (129) 
 
130 WATCHING THE BIRDS. 
 
 she could see every thing that went on 
 in the garden and avenue ; and could 
 look across through the boughs to 
 where the mountains rose against the 
 sky, and the beautiful river at their 
 foot lay shining in the sun. 
 
 She would watch the fat robins trot- 
 ting along the path; half a dozen 
 young ones, with speckled breasts, 
 trotting after them; eating whatever 
 they could find, and making clumsy 
 attempts to fly ; but so fat that they 
 very often fell fluttering back among 
 the bushes. 
 
 A honeysuckle had climbed from 
 the bank below, and twined itself all 
 about the balcony ; this was covered 
 with flowers ; and O, such beautiful 
 little humming-birds as came whirring 
 and buzzing about it, curling their feet 
 
WATCHING THE BIRDS. 131 
 
 up close under their breasts, and hold- 
 ing themselves upon the flower by 
 their long bills; their bright wings, 
 blue and rose color or green and gold, 
 all the while fluttering restlessly. 
 They would look at Blanche with 
 their little eyes, but did not seem 
 afraid of her. 
 
 On the farthest corner of the balco- 
 ny, stood a large cage, and within it a 
 beautiful bird, which Mr. Ellis had 
 brought from South America; its back 
 and wings were of a soft lead color, 
 its throat and breast pure white, and 
 its head and the ruffle of feathers 
 around the neck, the most brilliant 
 scarlet. 
 
 One day, as Blanche was watching 
 the mowers, how at every swing of 
 their bright scythes, the grass fell to 
 
132 WATCHING THE BIRDS.' 
 
 the ground, she heard a singular 
 noise ; and looking towards the bird 
 cage, saw what amused her greatly. 
 
 A squirrel upon the elm had caught 
 sight of the foreign bird ; and not rec- 
 ognizing him for a friend, had thought 
 r suppose, that he would have a quar- 
 rel. 
 
 So he stood there among the leaves, 
 chattering, and showing his teeth, his 
 brown eyes sparkling with anger. For 
 three or four minutes he kept on in 
 this way. 
 
 Then the bird began his answer; 
 making the strangest squeaking, croak- 
 ing sounds Blanche ever heard; the 
 squirrel interrupted her with another 
 piece of scolding, and then they both 
 scolded together ; the bird edging 
 along on the roost until he was very 
 
WATCHING THE BIRDS. 133 
 
 near the wires, and the squirrel darting 
 to the very end of the bough. 
 
 For several mornings afterwards the 
 squirrel came again, and they had just 
 such another talk; what it was all 
 about I do not know, but it was droll 
 enough to watch them. Blanche wrote 
 about this in her next note to- aunt 
 Dora, who said she never heard of 
 such a thing ; but the story is true. 
 
 When the grass was mown and had 
 lain in the sun drying all day, the men 
 raked it into heaps ; and Blanche re- 
 membered how, the summer before, she 
 and Elise, with their friends, Minnie 
 and Alice, had played among the hay ; 
 tumbling it about till they had scat- 
 tered the heaps in every direction, then 
 bringing it back in their arms, — for 
 they could not manage the long, heavy 
 12 
 
134 WATCHING THE BIRDS. 
 
 rakes, and making such ragged looking 
 haycocks that her father laughed and 
 said they would be famous farmers. 
 
 When the warm air came, scented 
 with that fresh sweet odor from the 
 grass, the poor child wished that she 
 had wings to fly ; or nimble feet like 
 the squirrel, to carry her there on the 
 ground ; but instead, she must sit 
 quietly with folded hands, while every 
 body and every thing around her 
 seemed to move about, and have such 
 a pleasant time. 
 
 But she tried to be patient ; remem- 
 bering that though the sickness was 
 troublesome to herself, it also gave a 
 great deal of trouble to others ; and 
 that the accident need not have hap- 
 pened, but for her own disobedience. 
 
CHAPTER XXiy. 
 
 THE COCOONERY. 
 
 F Blanche looked 
 across, beyond the 
 elm tree and green- 
 house, down to the 
 lend of the garden; 
 3she could see the 
 |cocoonery winding 
 laround the . summit 
 -'of a steep hill. 
 
 This building was 
 so large, and so many people went and 
 came from it, that Mr. Ellis did not 
 wish to have it in his garden any 
 longer ; and hired some carpenters to 
 move it into the field below. 
 
 This could only be done by sliding 
 
 (135) 
 
136 THE COCOONERY. 
 
 it down the hill, which was so stee|) 
 that steps had been built in it ; and any 
 thing less accustomed to climbing than 
 a* woodchuck or squirrel, could hardly 
 have gone up or down without their 
 help. 
 
 The men sawed the cocoonery into 
 five equal parts ; and each of these 
 was as large perhaps, as the house in 
 which you live; so you will not be 
 surprised that Blanche was interested 
 in watching them, as they tried to 
 move it. 
 
 A part at a time, it was dragged to 
 the brow of the hill, and then let 
 down by ropes and chains. She ex- 
 pected every moment to see some part 
 of the fastenings break, and the house 
 go tumbling over and over ; breaking 
 
THE COCOONERY. 137 
 
 down trees, and killing every man who 
 stood in the w^ay. 
 
 But the first part reached the 
 ground safely, and was carried to its 
 place; and then another and another 
 part was added to it, until the whole 
 long building stood there in the field. 
 
 Yet you must not think the w^ork 
 was done as quickly as I have been 
 telling you. There were ten or twenty 
 men at work for weeks ; working hard 
 all day, and yet often at night you 
 could not see that the house had 
 moved an inch. 
 
 And Elise, who went down almost 
 every day, told Blanche that the 
 ground was broken up in every direc- 
 tion; great cart tracks went through 
 the garden; trees, bushes and vines 
 12* 
 
138 THE COCOONERY. 
 
 were uprooted, and the cellar stood 
 yawning like a great pit. 
 
 Blanche turned pale when the cellar 
 was spoken of: she thought that but 
 for a mere accident, she might be there 
 still, buried up under old dead leaves. 
 Then she looked about in the pleasant 
 balcony, and up at the beautiful sky ; 
 and thought that after all, she had a 
 great deal left to make her happy and 
 grateful. 
 
 One day there came up a thunder 
 shower, so suddenly that John, who was 
 at work in the garden, had only time 
 to run up and snatch Blanchie's chair 
 and the bird cage into the house ; when 
 it poured in torrents, beating the dusty 
 earth, and gathering in little rivers on 
 the gravel walk. 
 
 He placed Blanche by a side win- 
 
, THE COCOONERY. 139 
 
 dow, where she could no longer see the 
 garden, and for this she was sorry; 
 but he had run to close other windows, 
 GO she would not call him back ; but 
 thought she would find what could be 
 seen, from even that place. 
 
 No elm branches in the way, so as 
 she drew the curtain, there stood the 
 cocoonery in plain sight ; and she 
 knew the mountains were beyond it, 
 by a dark shade on the sky. Such 
 clouds were falling to meet the river, 
 they drowned the mountains entirely, 
 were like a heavy gray curtain drawn 
 before them. 
 
 Then there came heavy peals of 
 thunder ; and birds which had been 
 surprised away from their nests, flew 
 about in a frightened manner, as 
 though they were stunned by the 
 
140 THE COCOONERY. 
 
 noise, and by the sharp quick ffeshes 
 of lightning, which came before every 
 peal. 
 
 And the rain poured faster and 
 faster; the garden walks were rivers 
 now, the elm and willow branches 
 bent till they almost trailed on the 
 ground, with the heavy pelting of the 
 incessant drops. 
 
 Blanche loved to see it rain, it 
 poured so merrily down ; and washed 
 every little twig and leaf so clean, and 
 filled up the ponds to their brim, and 
 sent the brooks dancing so noisily 
 through the meadows. 
 
 And then the sky was always so 
 clear afterwards, and the whole earth 
 so quiet and fresh, and the grass and 
 leaves would glitter so with the linger- 
 ing drops ; and the little birds would 
 
THE COCOONERY. 141 
 
 sing as if they rejoiced together over 
 the pleasant change which had conie. 
 
 But not quite yet. Although the 
 rain was abating, it still thundered and 
 lightened fearfully ; so that the whole 
 house snook with the sound, and 
 Blanche was almost blinded with the 
 
 light. 
 
 She was thinking that so much 
 water flooding down the hill, might 
 wash away the cocoonery, heavy as it 
 was ; when she saw a flash dart from 
 the sky, run in a zigzag line along the 
 roof, and crush the whole building in 
 a minute ; as easily as you could over- 
 turn a house built of cards. As if 
 blown down by a breath, the heavy 
 beams and the strongly-nailed planks 
 fell level with the ground. 
 
 Mrs. Ellis had entered the room in 
 
142 THE COCOONERY. 
 
 just time enough to witness the fall ; 
 and she told Blanche that it must 
 teach her how much stronger the great 
 God is, than all the men on earth. 
 For weeks and weeks the carpenters 
 had been toiling to lift this house, 
 which He, by one little arrow of light, 
 had shattered in an instant. 
 
 The next day Elise went to look at 
 the ruins ; and she told Blanche that 
 such a heap of boards and shingles 
 and broken mortar, all crumbled up 
 together, she never had seen before. 
 
 Mr. Ellis said he should sell it now, 
 for fire wood; and promised Blanche 
 that old Eli might have one of the 
 largest loads. She heard from the old 
 man often, at first through her friend 
 Henry, who went to see her as soon as 
 he heard of her accident ; and who had 
 
THE COCOONERY. 143 
 
 given up the promised walk, when he 
 found that she could not make one of 
 the party. 
 
 But Henry was called away by some 
 business, and obliged to remain for sev- 
 eral weeks ; and the gardener had one 
 of his rheumatic attacks ; and John had 
 so much to do in the greenhouse, in 
 consequence, that he could not spare 
 time for visiting. Blanche longed to 
 go herself and find how her friend was 
 prospering. Every chance that she 
 had, she still sent him fruit ; and her 
 mantelpiece was covered with his pres- 
 ents, — the queer little wooden toys. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 
 
 FEW days after 
 the thunder storm, 
 Blanche heard to 
 her great joy, that 
 Henry had come 
 ohome ; Elise had 
 seen him in the 
 street ; he was driv- 
 ing, but stopped to 
 inquire after Blanche. 
 And that very afternoon came a 
 note, inviting both the sisters to liis 
 house ; asking them to bring their 
 friends, the other little girls he had 
 seen in the churchyard. 
 
 Mrs. Ellis said that Elise should go, 
 
 (144 
 
TUE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 145 
 
 because the gentleman had been so po- 
 lite ; but she felt it would be too much 
 trouble for him to have Blanche, who 
 was still very helpless ; and as she 
 could not play about with the other 
 children, might need too much atten- 
 tion. 
 
 Poor Blanchie ! If* there was a 
 place in the world where she would 
 have delighted to go, it was Henry's 
 house ; and she knew he would ar- 
 range so many things for their amuse- 
 ment, and enjoy their plays so much 
 himself, it was very hard to stay at 
 home. 
 
 She could not help shedding a few 
 
 tears while her sister was dressing for 
 
 the party ; though 'Leedy promised to 
 
 remember every thing that happened, 
 
 13 
 
146 THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 
 
 and tell her about it ; and to repeat 
 every story that was told. 
 
 This was not like seeing and hear- 
 ing for herself; and a fev^ months ear- 
 lier, I am afraid Blanche would have 
 been very impatient and unwilling to 
 obey her mother ; but now she had 
 been sick so long, that she had learned 
 to give up many pleasures. 
 
 She knew by her mother's constant 
 tender care, how much she loved her ; 
 and that when she refused any request 
 it was for the good of her little girl, 
 and not for her own pleasure. 
 
 Blanche tried to play with her doll, 
 but the tears would come into her eyes 
 and fall upon the dresses, as she put 
 them on ; so she took up some bright- 
 colored worsted, and began to knit a 
 pair of wristlets for Eli. 
 
THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 147 
 
 She was working away quite busily 
 upon these, when the door opened, and 
 who should come in but Henry ! 
 
 He had no thought, he said, of 
 leaving Blanche out of his party ; and 
 had come for her in his own chaise, 
 and would promise to take the best 
 care in the world that no accident 
 should happen, if Mrs. Ellis would 
 only allow her to go. 
 
 Blanche did not say a word, but 
 looked up in her mother's face so wist- 
 fully, and she had been so good and 
 patient about staying at home; and 
 Henry laughed so merrily at the 
 thought of her being troublesome, 
 that the mother gave her consent. 
 
 She was quickly dressed in a little 
 clean white wrapper, and a blue ribbon 
 round her waist; then Henry lifted 
 
148 THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 
 
 her in his own arms to the door, where 
 his chaise stood ready ; and went quite 
 slowly that she might not be tired 
 with the drive. 
 
 Before Blanche guessed what he was 
 doing, he had turned into the lane 
 which led to Eli's house, and stopped 
 before the door. 
 
 The old man came limping out into 
 the sunshine, and they were overjoyed 
 to see each other ; he looked into 
 Blanche's pale, but happy face, and 
 great tears rolled over his own; for 
 you know Eli was very apt to cry 
 when he felt happy. 
 
 Henry lifted the seat of his chaise, 
 and drew forth a paper of cookies and 
 some mellow pears ; he laughed as he 
 said, "There, you see Blanche has 
 not come without bringing you some- 
 
THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 149 
 
 thing, Eli ! " but she leaned forward 
 to whisper, " He brought them him- 
 self." 
 
 As the chaise turned away, she 
 looked out to see the old man as he 
 stood there in the sunshine, with the 
 white hair blowing about his forehead 
 in the breeze ; with the peaceful smile 
 and the poor, tired hands folded 
 quietly. 
 
 She always remembered him with 
 that quiet, peaceful look upon his 
 face ; for she never saw Eli again. The 
 gardener went into his house the next 
 morning, and he lay there dead ; be- 
 side him the Bible, which he loved to 
 keep near, although he could not read 
 a word ; his knife, and an unfinished 
 plaything, which he had been making 
 for Blanche. 
 
 13* 
 
150 THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 
 
 Eli had often said that whenever 
 God was willing to take him out of 
 his poverty, and weakness, and igno- 
 rance ; out of the earth where he was 
 onlv a trouble to himself and to all 
 his friends, he should be grateful; and 
 so glad, that Blanche must not feel 
 sorry for his loss. She must think of 
 the beautiful heaven, where he had 
 gone, and think of him as young 
 again, active and happy; no longer 
 alone, but with his wife and children 
 about him. 
 
 She kept the unfinished plaything 
 and wristlet a great many years ; and 
 when she thought of Eli, it was always 
 pleasant to remember that she did all 
 she could, to make him comfortable 
 while he lived on earth. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 
 
 ITTLE thinking of 
 the great change 
 ! which would come to 
 their old friend so 
 soon, Henry drove 
 W; they soon came 
 within sight of a 
 pleasant brown house 
 among the trees, and 
 here he stopped. 
 Blanche had gone past the place 
 before, and hardly knew it now, it was 
 so much improved ; trees had been 
 planted, fences repaired, the house 
 newly painted, piazzas and summer 
 houses built. 
 
 (151) * 
 
152 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 
 
 Elise and the other children ran 
 out to meet them. The pleasant lady 
 who stood at the door, was, Henry- 
 said, his mother ; she seemed as glad 
 to see them, as himself; and while he 
 had driven after Blanche, had taken 
 them to the side of the house, where a 
 swing was fastened into the branches 
 of a great elm tree ; there they were 
 swinging when they heard the sound 
 of wheels, and went to see if Blanche 
 had arrived. 
 
 Henry told them to keep on their 
 sun bonnets, for he had no thought of 
 shutting them up in the house that 
 pleasant afternoon ; so they went out 
 into the grove, with which they were 
 delighted, because it was so much like 
 aunt Dora's woods. 
 
 At the edge of this grove was a 
 
THE FIRST YISIT TO HENRY. 153 
 
 shady place on the lawn, where they 
 could have all kinds of games; and 
 there was a white tent with something 
 inside, — they could not tell what, be- 
 cause the curtains were all down. 
 
 Between two pine trees a hammock 
 was swung. Perhaps you have never 
 seen one of these beds; instead of 
 standing upon legs, like those in our 
 chambers, they hang by ropes from 
 the wall, or from branches of the trees ; 
 and when they are out of doors they 
 swing with a pleasant motion, which 
 lulls any one to sleep. 
 
 Henry wanted Blanche to try and 
 see how she liked his hammock ; so 
 he lifted her into it, and said that now 
 she was like a little bird in her nest ; 
 and had better stay there and rest 
 a while, for she had taken a long ride, 
 
154 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 
 
 and was not strong enough yet to bear 
 much fatigue. 
 
 She was willing enough to stay, and 
 have the pine boughs rock and sing to 
 her with such a pleasant sound ; she 
 lay there watching the children play 
 below, and looking up to catch 
 glimpses of the sky, which now and 
 then was visible through the deep 
 green. 
 
 She saw too, flies floating about in 
 the air; and wondered why they 'kept 
 hovering in one place, and did not go 
 somewhere, as she would if she had 
 wings ; and the young birds in a nest 
 kept peeping out at her, and calling 
 to their mother, who came very soon, 
 with a good large berry in her mouth, 
 whf.ch she divided among her ravenous 
 
THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 155 
 
 children. In the midst of this watch- 
 ing, Blanche fell fast asleep. 
 
 While she slept, Henry took the 
 other girls to walk about his grounds. 
 It was too far for Blanche to go, and 
 he left his mother seated in a garden 
 chair with her work, to watch and be 
 ready to call them when she awoke. 
 
 They went to the barn, which was 
 built, if you ever heard of such a 
 thing, upon tin pans ; this is a fashion 
 which some country farmers have, of 
 keeping the rats from their grain ; 
 they build first piles of stone, four or 
 five on each side of the barn, turn a 
 pan upside down on the top of each 
 pile, and above all this raise the 
 building. 
 
 If the rats run up the stones, they 
 -cannot creep over the slippery sides of 
 
156 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 
 
 the tin ; and have to seek other quar- 
 ters. 
 
 They looked every where ; into the 
 grain chests, and harness room, and 
 hay loft ; and into the stalls where the 
 horse and cow stood, the latter with a 
 calf almost as large as herself. 
 
 In the pigeon house, they found 
 some of the prettiest white doves, so 
 tame that they would stand upon Hen- 
 ry's finger, and peck at the oats in his 
 hand ; some had fan tails and strutted 
 about like turkeys, but they seemed so 
 vain, that it spoiled all their beauty. 
 
 In the yard stood a pair of oxen, 
 beautiful great creatures, as sleek and 
 glossy as squirrels, and with large, soft 
 eyes. They were fastened into a cart, 
 and Henry told the girls to jump in, 
 he would give them a ride; so they 
 
THE FIRST yiSIT TO HENRY. 157 
 
 were drawn about under the trees 
 a while, anti then he said they should 
 see his ducks and geese. 
 
 So walking beside the oxen, "haw- 
 ing" and "geeing" like any farmer, 
 he drove on through a path where the 
 trees almost met overhead ; stopping 
 sometimes that they might pick the 
 ripe pears from the trees, for the cart 
 lifted them so high that they could do 
 it easily. 
 
 Then they beheld a pond, with 
 willows growing about it, and the 
 ducks and geese sailing in every direc- 
 tion. 
 
 " It almost makes me wish that I 
 was a goose," said Minnie, upon which 
 Henry went to a little house among 
 the willows, and drew forth a little 
 painted boat, saying, " If we are not 
 14 
 
158 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 
 
 geese, we can have a sail as well as 
 they." 
 
 So he rowed them to the other side, 
 and the sun was so hot that they did 
 not care to go farther ; then called for 
 his man to take the oxen back, and 
 they walked home through the gar- 
 den. 
 
 He told each to pick a bouquet to 
 carry home ; and went about with his 
 knife, cutting off tough and thorny 
 steins which they could not manage. 
 His dog had followed them up from 
 the boat; it was a large Newfoundland, 
 very handsome and knowing ; Henry . 
 put all their flowers into a basket, and 
 the dog walked quietly beside them, 
 with this in his mouth. 
 
 A gentleman, passing through the 
 garden, took a flower from the basket^ 
 
THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 159 
 
 to see what Prince would say; he 
 dropped the rest in an instant, seized 
 the gentleman's coat, and would not 
 let him go, until he had given up the 
 flower again. 
 
 When they reached the grove, there 
 lay Blanche still fast asleep ; but the 
 sound of their voices soon awoke her, 
 and she would not believe that her 
 eyes had closed, and she had not been 
 all the while watching the flies and 
 the waving boughs, until they told 
 her how far they had been. 
 
 There were seats made of moss, for 
 the other girls ; and there was a little 
 easy chair for Blanche. They were 
 hardly seated, when Henry opened the 
 curtains of the tent ; and there stood a 
 table set with berries and cream, ap- 
 ples, pears, nuts, cake, ice cream, and 
 
160 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 
 
 more good things than I can remember 
 now. 
 
 He said that Elise and he should 
 be waiters, and the rest company ; so 
 they passed the refreshments upon lit- 
 tle trays; and after they had eaten 
 enough, Henry's mother folded a paper 
 of cakes for each to carry home. 
 
 Then they sang a great many songs ; 
 and Blanche told about the afternoon 
 at Eli's, and how she wished he were 
 there now with his violin. Upon this, 
 Henry went to the house for his flute ; 
 and though he could not play for them 
 to dance, he could accompany their 
 songs ; his mother was delighted with 
 the music. 
 
 While singing, they arranged the 
 flowers, and made each other wreaths 
 of oak and maple leaves; they even 
 
THE* FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 161 
 
 dressed up the old lady's cap with 
 sprays of the tiny partridge vine, and 
 some starry little white flowers they 
 had found in the wood. 
 
 It was so long since Blanche had 
 gone from home, that every thing 
 looked new and doubly beautiful to 
 her ; the trees had a fresher green, the 
 sky a clearer blue, the flowers grew 
 nearer together, and had lovelier tints ; 
 and the birds sang louder and more 
 joyously. 
 
 She only wished that Eli could share 
 the pleasure with them ; and did not 
 know how soon the good old man was 
 going to a home where there are clear- 
 er skies and sweeter music. 
 
 But through the trees, they could 
 see the sun sinking lower and lower in 
 the west; and as they went towards 
 14* 
 
162 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 
 
 the house, they saw Mr. Ellis's car- 
 riage, which had been sent for Blanche, 
 standing at the door. 
 
 Henry told the rest to go home with 
 the man, instead; and said he would 
 take Blanche in his own chaise, which 
 was easiest. They were soon home, 
 and he was not satisfied until he had 
 placed Blanche safely in her chair, by 
 the window of her mother's room. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE NEW MINISTER. 
 
 LANCHE, after a 
 while, grew able to 
 walk about the house 
 A with a crutch; and 
 v\\Vyi then was well enough 
 to go sometimes to 
 O school and church. 
 The summer was 
 drawing to a close, 
 and she did not care 
 how soon it went; for she longed to 
 have another come, when she could 
 walk and run about as much as she 
 chose. 
 
 And best of all, in the autumn aunt 
 Dora was coming to make her mother 
 
 (163> 
 
164 THE NEW MINISTER. 
 
 a visit; and, \vhen she came, there 
 were always good times, if only she 
 wouldn't marry that dreadful minister ! 
 
 Blanche sat thinking about this 
 many a time. Her book or doll would 
 lie unnoticed, while she wondered if 
 something might not happen to the 
 minister; if the cars couldn't run oif 
 from the track and kill him ; or if he 
 could not die in his bed some day, like 
 Eli, and leave aunt Dora to marry 
 somebody else. 
 
 Cannot you think whom she would 
 have chosen ? 
 
 It was wrong in her to have such 
 thoughts about the poor minister 
 whom she had never seen ; but she 
 loved Henry so much, and thought 
 him the only person in the world half 
 good enough for her dear aunt Dora, 
 
THE NEW MINISTER. 165 
 
 And then it would be so pleasant to 
 spend her holiday afternoons with them 
 both ; to sail herself on the pond, and 
 play with the doves, and look at the 
 oxen Elise had told her so much about. 
 I am afraid Blanche was a little selfish 
 in her wish, this time. 
 
 Aunt Dora came, and was as good 
 and beautiful as ever ; and as ready to 
 give up her own wishes and plans for 
 the sake of others. Blanche talked a 
 great deal about Eli, and then about 
 Henry; and she couldn't help telling 
 aunt Dora how she did wish that he 
 could marry her, instead of the min- 
 ister. 
 
 Aunt Dora laughed and blushed, and 
 told her she didn't know what she was 
 talking about ; and that she felt very 
 sure the minister would love both Elise 
 
J66 THE NEW MINISTER. 
 
 and Blanche, because they were so dear 
 to her. 
 
 The next morning was Sunday ; and 
 Blanche wanted so much to go to 
 church with her aunt, that Mrs. Ellis 
 consented. They went early, because 
 they were obliged to walk slowly ; and 
 as the bell had not begun to ring when 
 they reached the church, they strolled 
 about in the churchyard; and seated 
 themselves to rest under the oak tree, 
 where Henry had made a settee of 
 branches and roots. 
 
 As Blanche was showing it to aunt 
 Dora, and talking about him, who 
 should come in sight but Henry 
 himself! 
 
 He shook hands with them cordial- 
 ly ; saying, " I do not need an introduc- 
 
THE NEW MINISTER. 167 
 
 tion to Blanchie's aunt, I have heard 
 of her so often." 
 
 Blanche looked up in aunt Dora'i? 
 face, and saw the cheeks grow very 
 red: she thought, perhaps, this was 
 because she remembered their conver- 
 sation in the morning ; and while they 
 talked together, she limped along to 
 church. 
 
 "Have you come to hear the new 
 minister, who will preach for the first 
 time 1 " Blanche asked, at which 
 Henry laughed, and aunt Dora's face 
 grew red again. 
 
 Blanche understood all when, as the 
 minister arose and began to read a 
 hymn, she looked up and beheld Henry 
 in the pulpit ! She looked at aunt 
 Dora, and at Elise, and her mother, 
 and longed for church to be over, that 
 
168 THE NEW MINISTER. 
 
 she might hear why they had kept the 
 secret so long. 
 
 Mrs. Ellis knev/, from the first, that 
 Henry and aunt Dora's minister were 
 the same ; but she wanted to teach 
 her children how foolish it is to dis- 
 like persons before one has ever seen 
 them. 
 
 That autumn they were married; 
 and a great many pleasant visits, a 
 great many sails and drives the chil- 
 dren had, with aunt Dora and uncle 
 Henry. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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