LIBRARY 
 
 iNtvt* rr o 
 
 c*yroMiA 
 
 SAN DIEGO 
 
 * 
 
 \ 

 
 
 
 1 i (. U
 
 RED-LETTER DAYS 
 
 IN APPLETHORPE. 
 
 GAIL HAMILTON. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS 
 1866.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS, 
 in the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 UNIVERSITY PRESS : WELCH, BIGELOW, & Co., 
 CAMBRIDGE.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 NEW-YEAR S DAY : THIRTY-THREE CENTS i 
 
 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY : TREASURE-TROVE . . n 
 
 FAST-DAY : MORAL COURAGE 26 
 
 MAY-DAY : BEING A BOY 43 
 
 BIRTHDAY : CATHAY S COSSET 58 
 
 SEVENTEENTH OF JUNE : THE GOLDEN FLEECE , 68 
 
 FOURTH OF JULY : MAX MARCH S WAY OF WEEPING 
 
 WITH THOSE WHO WEEP 77 
 
 THANKSGIVING-DAY : THE SPOILED DINNER . . 91 
 
 FOREFATHERS DAY : THE ARGUMENT .... 107 
 
 CHRISTMAS : THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION . 120
 
 NEW YEAR S DAY. 
 
 THIRTY-THREE CENTS. 
 
 ERNE was happy. She awoke in the morning 
 with a calm satisfaction in her heart, too 
 deep for words. She went to her little box to 
 survey her treasures, as soon as she was out of 
 bed, though the frost stood thick on the window- 
 panes. There they lay, safe and sound ; a bright 
 quarter of a dollar which her uncle Meadows had 
 given her, and eight new cents from her grand 
 mother. There had been ten, but Erne had run 
 up a bill for candy at aunt Rhoda s " Variety Store " 
 in the village, to the amount of two cents, which 
 bill, she, being an honest little girl, scrupulously 
 paid with the first money she obtained, even though 
 that was her holiday funds. Immediately after 
 breakfast, she and Margaret went to make pur 
 chases. Margaret, being four years younger than 
 Erne had only ten cents, which, with contentment, 
 is a great deal. It was some time before New Year, 
 but Erne could not think of waiting a single day 
 before spending a part, at least, of her thirty-three
 
 2 NEW-YEAR S DAY. 
 
 cents. " Besides, Maggy, dear," she argued in a 
 matronly way, " you know you are a little girl and 
 might lose your ten cents if you kept it, so you 
 had better spend it at once." Margaret did not 
 particularly like being called a little girl, but she 
 was used to it, and rather than delay the proposed 
 expedition, she remained silent under the cal 
 umny. 
 
 The difficulty of choosing presents ! If there 
 had been only one thing that could be bought, two 
 little brains would have been saved a great deal of 
 perplexity ; but, turned into a wilderness of toys, 
 they looked and admired and hesitated, and could 
 not decide upon anything. 
 
 " Meg ! " said Erne, at length, unconsciously 
 adopting a phrase that has become proverbial, 
 " This will never do. "We shall: never buy any 
 thing at this rate. Now I am going into the next 
 shop, and the first thing I set my eyes upon I shall 
 buy." 
 
 Into the next shop they went, and the first thing 
 she set her eyes upon was a wooden whistle, which 
 she accordingly bought for four cents and bestowed 
 in her pocket. 
 
 " This is for Agnes, Meg. I shall not buy any 
 thing for you, to-day, at any rate, because you 
 know I wish to surprise you, and you mustn t 
 suppose you are going to have anything, and so if
 
 THIRTY-THREE CENTS. 3 
 
 you get any thing you 11 be surprised you know, 
 and I will not suppose you are going to get any 
 thing for me ; but if you do get anything, you d 
 better buy it when I am not with you, and then 
 I shall be surprised too." 
 
 " Yeth," lisped Meg, who was Erne s slave, by 
 virtue of her four lacking years. 
 
 " And now I must buy something for mamma. 
 What would you get ? " 
 
 " A bittiful fur tippet," answered Meg promptly, 
 her eyes fastened upon a little girl who had just 
 tripped past them in such array. 
 
 " Why, Meg, child, a fur tippet would cost I 
 suppose ten dollars, and I have only let me 
 see twenty-nine cents. I will tell you what I 
 have been thinking. You know Miss Landor that 
 we saw at grandma s." 
 
 " The one with a thing on her head ? " asked 
 Meg, whose bump of language was not yet fully 
 developed. 
 
 " Yes, a beautiful net, and mamma liked it very 
 much, and I dare say she would like one herself, 
 and there are splendid ones at Farley s. I have 
 seen them through the windows, and I am going 
 to buy one of those. Don t you think it would be 
 lovely ? " 
 
 " Yeth, I do," said Meg emphatically. 
 
 " Don t you believe mamma would like it better 
 than anything else ? "
 
 4 NEW-YEAR S DAY. 
 
 " I know she would," said Meg, with increased 
 emphasis. 
 
 They went into the shop. The nets were there, 
 blue and crimson and black and gold, interwoven 
 with gold beads and silver beads and glass beads in 
 a blaze of beauty. They selected a blue one with 
 gold trappings. " Can you tell me how much 
 money this costs ? " inquired Erne. 
 
 " Four seventy-five," answered the clerk, much 
 louder than was necessary. 
 
 Erne dropped it as if it had stung her. Her 
 face fell such a distance, and with such suddenness, 
 that the clerk asked her kindly if she wished to 
 buy one. 
 
 " I wanted to buy one for mamma," said she 
 sadly, " but I have only twenty-nine cents. I have 
 spent four already." 
 
 " Could n t you buy some silk and make one ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know how to net," said Erne, brighten 
 ing up. 
 
 " Do you ? well, here is some braid now that 
 you could make one of." 
 
 " How much would that cost ? " 
 
 " That would be beyond your means, too, I am 
 afraid." 
 
 " Have n t you anything that comes in strings 
 that would be only twenty-nine cents ? " 
 
 " Well, now, here is something," said he, laugh-
 
 THIRTY-THREE CENTS. 5 
 
 ing, and pulling from a box a skein of white knit 
 ting cotton. " You can have this for four cents." 
 
 " Oh ! can I ? But that will do ? " 
 
 " Plenty of it, I should think." 
 
 " But do people ever wear white nets ? " 
 
 " We don t keep any on hand, but I should think 
 they would be very pretty. Eun a blue ribbon 
 into them and tie it with a bow. It would be 
 sweet pretty." 
 
 " And then I should have twenty-five cents left," 
 meditated Erne aloud. " But I must buy a net 
 ting-needle for I have lost mine." 
 
 "Here is just the article, ninepence, you 
 may have it for twelve cents." 
 
 " And I shall want the blue ribbon, too." 
 
 " And you 11 have thirteen cents left to get it 
 with, sha n t you ? Now, here is just the ticket, 
 eight cents a yard ; beautiful color, don t you think 
 so ?" 
 
 " Yes, don t you think so, Meg ? " 
 
 " Yeth, bittiful," said independent Meg. 
 
 " And a yard and a half would be just about 
 enough. Will you have it ? And you 11 have a 
 cent left, to boot." 
 
 " Yes, I think I will have it," said Erne. 
 
 She parted from her quarter reluctantly, from all 
 the cents but one reluctantly, but found consola 
 tion in the package.
 
 6 NEW-YEAR S DAY. 
 
 " Now Meg," said she severely, as they were 
 walking home, " be sure you don t say a word of 
 this to any one. It must be a great secret. Mam 
 ma must know nothing of it till I put it in her 
 hand on New Year s. You remember." 
 
 " Yeth but Erne." 
 
 " Well." 
 
 " What are you going to give to Martial and 
 Rob?" 
 
 The little sly-boots had been casting up accounts 
 in her tiny head, as to the probability of any " sur 
 prise " being forthcoming to her from the remain 
 ing cent, and was skirmishing for herself under 
 cover of Martial and Rob. 
 
 " Not much of anything to be sure," replied 
 Erne, remembering with consternation her dimin 
 ished funds and her unbought gifts, but not think 
 ing it wise to display any uneasiness. " Perhaps 
 I can make them something, but they are boys 
 and won t care so much. And Meg, dear, I am 
 afraid, I shall not be able to get a very splendid 
 thing for you, but you know, I would if I could, 
 and you love mamma, poor, dear mamma, it is 
 so sad since papa went away, and you would rather 
 she would have anything than have it yourself ? 
 You don t want to be selfish ? " This was super- 
 added a little imperiously, because Meg hesitated. 
 But thus admonished, Meg, as in duty bound, af-
 
 THIRTY-THREE CENTS. 7 
 
 firmed that she did not want to be selfish, and that 
 she did love her mother, but she wished, at the 
 same time, only inwardly, that Erne was going to 
 give her something, and was, it must be confessed, 
 grievously disappointed. 
 
 The plots and plans to finish the net in secret 
 were many and various ; but Erne understood how 
 to use her fingers, and before the New Year came 
 it was rounded to completion. Little cousin 
 Peter s little fingers and little sister Meg s little 
 fingers had often come in contact with it, and 
 Erne steadfastly maintained that it was their touch 
 alone which had so soiled it ; but good hard soap 
 and a dipper of hot water smuggled into her little 
 room did good service in the way of restoring its 
 original purity, and New Year s morning saw the 
 net, white as snow and brilliant with blue ribbon, 
 lying snugly in a corner of Erne s work-box. Very 
 early the little girls were stirring. The net was to 
 be wrapped in white paper, and laid under mam 
 ma s plate at breakfast. The whistle was to be 
 put into Agnes little cup, and that was all that 
 Erne had to give. A gingerbread horse which was 
 to have graced Margaret s plate was nipped in the 
 bud by the untimely loss of the cent which was to 
 buy it. 
 
 " Erne, this new whistle won t whistle," said 
 Meg, after blowing herself purple, in vain. Erne
 
 8 NEW-YEAR S DAY. 
 
 was looking for some nice paper to wrap the net 
 in, but she stopped to try the whistle. " It will 
 whistle of course," she said a little sharply. " It 
 would n t be a whistle if it did n t whistle," which 
 self-evident proposition did not help the case, for, 
 with all her puffing and blowing, the whistle 
 would not whistle. It only wheezed, and that 
 very hoarsely. 
 
 " Well," she said, philosophically. " I am sorry, 
 but I cannot help it. Don t tell Agnes it was 
 made to whistle and perhaps she won t know the 
 difference. There she comes now. Put it in the 
 drawer, quick ! " and down went the whistle just 
 as dear, lame little Agnes came in sight. She 
 went by and down stairs, but three-year-old Peter s 
 pattering feet pattered in. Erne s mother called 
 her at that moment, and she ran down. Meg 
 stood making pictures on the frosty window-pane 
 with a pin. It was ten minutes before Erne re 
 turned, and when she came in, there stood Peter 
 in a chair before the bureau, scissors in one hand, 
 and the precious net in the other, all cut and 
 slashed and ruined ! 
 
 Erne sprang forward with a scream, and Meg 
 dropped her pin with another, but it was too late, 
 Peter looked scared and ready to cry. Erne did 
 not scold, as many girls and many women would 
 have done. With an unselfish self-control that
 
 THIRTY-THREE CENTS. 9 
 
 could hardly be expected in a little girl, she ut 
 tered no harsh word, but only consoled the fright 
 ened little fellow with gentle words. Then with a 
 heavy heart she sat down and wrote a little note 
 to her mother. 
 
 " DEAR MAMMA : 
 
 " I made you such a pretty net for more than 
 a week, and spent all my money, and now the 
 whistle does not whistle at all, and Peter cut the 
 net all to pieces, but he did not mean to be 
 naughty, because he did not know, and I have lost 
 the other cent, and that is all of my thirty-three 
 cents. 0, mamma, I am so sorry, but I wish you 
 a happy New Year all the same. Your dear litttle 
 daughter. ERNE. 
 
 " P. S. I spent all my money before I got to the 
 others, so they have not lost anything only one 
 cent, and that was to buy Meg a gingerbread 
 horse, but I lost it. Your affectionate daughter, 
 
 " ERNE." 
 
 Ah me ! It was a very sad little face that ap 
 peared at the breakfast-table that bright New Year 
 morning, and when mamma read the note, the 
 little face bent low to hide the falling tears, but 
 Uncle Meadows drew the little girl to his arms, 
 and said .cheeringly, " Never mind, my darling, 
 i*
 
 10 NEW-YEAR S DAY. 
 
 you have given us something better than all tho 
 nets in the world. I saw through the open door 
 what a brave, gentle little girl it was, not one 
 cross word to my little mischief-maker, and he who 
 ruleth his own spirit is better than he who makes 
 the prettiest net that ever was seen. Come, my 
 pet, we will have a happy New Year yet." And 
 Erne dried her eyes and saw light ahead. 
 
 " Uncle Meadowth," said Meg, proffering the 
 vulgar fraction of some glass animal, " here th a 
 thag that I wath going to give you. One of hith 
 legth ith broken, and I wathn t croth about it 
 either ; wath n t I good too ? " 
 
 " All ! another accident ! Did Peter break this 
 too ? " 
 
 " No, I broke it," said Meg placidly, " but you 
 thet him down tho and he thtickth," and Meg 
 bobbed him down on one side as never mortal stag 
 was bobbed, and contemplated him with great sat 
 isfaction. 
 
 And there was a sleigh-ride in the afternoon, and 
 parched corn and candy-pulling in the evening, 
 and Uncle Meadows there all day, and so Erne 
 was comforted for her thirty-three cents.
 
 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 TREASURE-TROVE. 
 
 IT was going to be a glorious morning as soon as 
 the sun should have time to rise and declare 
 himself. But Margaret Mayland did not know that. 
 She only knew it was a holiday, and Uncle Arthur 
 would be there. He made a point of spending as 
 many holidays with them as possible since the sad 
 morning when papa went away. Neither did 
 Erne know what the morning had in store. She 
 only hoped, for she was to take her first lesson in 
 skating, and the weather was a very important 
 matter to her. Nevertheless she gave a hearty 
 assent to Margaret s sagacious delight " that Wash 
 ington ever was born," adding by way of showing 
 her superior prudence an additional delight that 
 he " stayed good all his life, because you know, 
 Meg, if he had not been a good man he might just 
 as well not been born at all." 
 
 " No," said Meg, " we should not have had any 
 Uncle Albert." 
 
 " Nor skating, because we should have had to 
 go to school, like any day."
 
 12 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 When the morning came to itself it was the 
 most lovely morning that could be imagined. 
 Ice enough for the whole world to skate on, and 
 enough left to put in all its refrigerators for next 
 summer ! Icicles drooping from the roof, ice 
 glittering on the trees, ice dazzling you on the 
 wide fields of snow, ice ice nothing but ice 
 and dazzle everywhere. Yes, something else, 
 there running, slipping, dancing, falling, laughing, 
 shouting, goes Martial Mayland, with his brother 
 Robert, and his sister Erne. She cannot quite 
 keep up with her stronger brothers, but when she 
 calls, " Boys, don t go so fast! " Robert calls back, 
 " We 11 leave the way behind us." Martial, being 
 the oldest, is more considerate, and says, " You 
 let us go on, Erne, and we shall get there first, 
 and tie our skates on, and be all ready for you." 
 So, as Erne knows very well where to go, she is 
 contented. 
 
 Sure enough, when she reached the pond, there 
 were the boys curvetting, prancing, gliding, cut 
 ting rings and hearts, and doing all sorts of won 
 derful things, to the admiration and despair of 
 Erne. They immediately came to her, made 
 her sit down on the ice, and taking each a foot, 
 began to twist it, and pull it, and pinch it, and 
 strap it, to Erne s no small inconvenience, though 
 she said nothing, because they were only putting 
 on her skates.
 
 TREASURE-TROVE. 13 
 
 " Now then ! " said Martial, rising, and drawing 
 on his mittens again when they had finished, 
 " one, two, three, and away ! " 
 
 Erne got up on her knees first, clung to the 
 skirts of Rob s coat, then stood fairly on her feet, 
 not very fairly, however, for it was one, two, 
 three, down ! " 
 
 " 0, 1 never can stand, never ! " 
 
 " Stand ! my stars ! how do you expect to 
 skate then ! " 
 
 " But there is n t anything to stand on." 
 
 " Stand on your balance, so ! there. Just 
 keep up straight and even, and you won t fall." 
 Having delivered himself of this valuable piece of 
 advice, Martial took a turn round the pond by way 
 of variety, and Rob followed him. Erne left by 
 herself, persevered in several unsuccessful efforts 
 to stand, and her perseverance was at length re 
 warded by a successful one. 
 
 "There! Rob! boys, look! look!" But 
 before they had a chance to gaze at the remark 
 able sight, she was down again. At length, how 
 ever, she gained her feet permanently, though not, 
 it must be confessed, very confidently. 
 
 " Good ! " cried Robert, " now you have 
 learned to stand ; that is something, is n t it, Mar 
 tial?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, it is a good deal. All you have
 
 14 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 to do now is just to strike our right and left, and 
 go ahead." 
 
 " 0, 1 can t move ! I shall certainly fall if I stir 
 an inch." 
 
 " No, no ; if you find you are going to topple 
 over one way, you must throw all your weight on 
 the other. Here, we 11 take you a little while, 
 Rob, you take one arm, and I 11 take the other. 
 Now you just slide along, don t try to do any 
 thing. How do you like that ? " 
 
 " 0, it s splendid, only my ankles keep turning, 
 and I can t keep my feet together ; they keep run 
 ning out and in, and all sorts of ways. 0, 1 shall 
 be down ! 0, do stop ! " 
 
 " No, you won t, you can t if you keep hold 
 of us. You must not let your ankles turn. Keep 
 them up firm, and when you want to stop, you 
 must not drag down that way. You never can bo 
 a good skater till you have learned to stop. 
 
 " I am sure I can stop fast enough now, it s 
 all I can do. What I want, is to learn to go." 
 But Martial persisted in teaching her to stop. 
 
 " You must lift up your toes so, and let your 
 heel cut in so ! and that stops you. Hullo ! " 
 The last remark was addressed to a red-cheeked 
 little fellow, who came rushing on in great haste. 
 
 " Martial ! Bob ! " he exclaimed, as soon 
 as he was within speaking distance, " there s
 
 TREASURE-TROVE. 15 
 
 been an awful great fire, and Ploffin s stores are 
 all burnt down, and I went with father, and there 
 were crowds of men there, and it was in the night, 
 and the bells were ringing, and it was close by fa 
 ther s office ! 0, it was such a great fire ! " 
 
 " Not half so great as your eyes, I 11 bet a 
 cookcy," said Martial. 
 
 " Mother would n t let you say that, I know," 
 whispered Erne. 
 
 " "Would n t let you, you mean," replied Mar 
 tial, in a grand way, " it s very proper you 
 should not, because you are a girl ; but it does n t 
 signify about me." 
 
 " I don t see why a boy should talk wicked, any 
 more than a girl." 
 
 " Bless your heart ! that is n t wicked ! What 
 is there wicked about it ? " 
 
 " It is vulgar." 
 
 " Well, vulgar is n t wicked ; and besides, you 
 don t expect boys to talk like girls. Everything 
 that is vulgar for you may not be for me." 
 
 Here Rob, who had been listening very eagerly 
 to their little friend s account of the fire, cried 
 out, " Martial, let s go down and see it." 
 
 " See what ? " 
 
 " The fire. It s smoking now, Max says." 
 
 " Then we can t skate ! " 
 
 " You can skate any time, but you don t see
 
 16 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 such a fire as that very often, I can tell you," said 
 Max. " Come, you can go right over that hill, 
 you are most halfway there now." 
 
 " Do go, " cried Erne, " and let me go too. " 
 
 " We nrnst ask mamma though, first. I tell 
 you what, Erne, you can t skate, but you can run. 
 We 11 stay here and skate, while you run home 
 and ask her ; and if she says you may go, we 11 
 let you." 
 
 Having received this gracious permission, Erne 
 was soon gone, and soon returned with leave for 
 them and herself if Martial would take strict care 
 of her, and keep her by himself all the time. 
 
 " Ho, yes indeed ! " cried he, and to make sure 
 of it, he took a piece of cord from his well-filled 
 pocket, and with much struggling and laughing, 
 he tied it fast round her waist and his own, so 
 that she could only go two or three steps from 
 him, and thus they marched on gayly to the scene 
 of the fire. 
 
 A very black and desolate scene it was. Ruined 
 walls, heaps of gray bricks, coils of pipes, a smoul 
 dering mass of rubbish. Crowds of men were 
 standing around, and crowds of laborers were 
 beginning already to work order out of disorder. 
 They hammered on the bricks, cleaning off the 
 mortar to use them in building again, they 
 dragged off and sorted the pipes to be repaired,
 
 TREASURE-TKOVE. 17 
 
 boys ran hither and thither, climbing walls and 
 jumping over obstacles, as is the manner of boys. 
 Robert and Max joined them. Martial would 
 have done so, but, as he said, for " having Erne in 
 tow." So he contented himself with peering round 
 into every nook and corner, on the outskirts, and 
 listening to the remarks of the by-standers and 
 laborers. 
 
 Presently Rob and Max came up, in high spir 
 its. Max had found a pair of spectacles among 
 the rubbish. The glasses were cracked in all di 
 rections, and the bows were blackened and bent ; 
 but he had stuck them on his little nose and 
 marched about, looking very comical. Max said, 
 " Lots of fellows had found lots of things, but they 
 were all gone now." When they had seen all they 
 wished, and hoard all the stories about the fire, 
 they started for home again. Max kept his spec 
 tacles on, and amused himself and everybody ho 
 met with his odd appearance. 
 
 " Max," said Martial, " where did you find 
 them ? " 
 
 " 0, down there by that south corner. The boys 
 said there were heaps of things there this morning 
 early. You see Katlin s fancy store was there, and 
 that s where they came from." 
 
 " I should think Mr. Katlin would want his 
 things himself," said Erne. " He s lost so much
 
 18 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 by the fire, that he ought to have what is left. 
 How came he to let you have them ? " 
 
 " Why he did n t. He does n t care. You see 
 they are not worth anything. He could not sell 
 them. Nobody would ever buy them." 
 
 " I don t know," said Martial. " Perhaps he 
 could not sell them to see with ; but he could sell 
 the bows for old silver." 
 
 " 0, but they are not silver. I asked the boys ; 
 they said he did not keep anything but German 
 silver." 
 
 " That alters the case." 
 
 " Now you don t know," interposed Robert. 
 " Perhaps he had one pair real silver ones, and 
 perhaps that is the pair you found. I should n t 
 wonder a bit." 
 
 " I should wonder a good large bit," said Mar 
 tial. " However, we can settle that matter in no 
 time. Hand them here, Max." 
 
 Max gave them. Martial took something out of 
 his pocket, I believe it was some kind of chalk, and 
 rubbed it on the sleeve of his coat, and then rub 
 bed the bows on that. The three children crowded 
 around him. 
 
 " It is n t silver, is it ? " said Max, rather ex 
 cited. Martial did not reply. " I know it is not 
 silver," he continued, as Martial stopped to ex 
 amine the effect of his polishing.
 
 TREASURE-TROVE. 19 
 
 " So do I," said Martial, abstractedly. 
 
 " There, I knew it was n t, Rob." 
 
 " But it is gold ! Hurra ! " cried Mar 
 tial, swinging them around his head. " Max, 
 your fortune is made." 
 
 " No, it is n t gold though, is it ? " said Max in 
 credulously. 
 
 " It is n t anything else. Why, just look, see 
 how it shines ! " 
 
 " You re a lucky fellow, Max," said Kobert. 
 " Make your father buy them, and you 11 get ever 
 so much money." 
 
 " Yes," said Max ; but he looked as if he did 
 not think of what he was saying. Then he stopped 
 suddenly, and said, with a very determined air, 
 " I sha n t keep them." 
 
 " No, I would n t," said Erne, softly. 
 
 " Yes, I would," exclaimed Robert, loudly. 
 
 " What will you do with them ? " asked Martial. 
 
 " I shall carry them back and give them to Mr. 
 Katlin. You see, if they are worth anything he 
 ought to have them. I think they are just as 
 much his as if they were in his shop." 
 
 " But you don t know that they were in his 
 shop," said Robert. " Perhaps they never be 
 longed to Mm at all ; and if you don t know, I 
 should think you had as good a right to them as 
 anybody."
 
 20 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 " 0, nonsense ! " exclaimed Martial ; " don t be 
 fog yourself in that way, Robert. You know they 
 were Mr. Ratlin s, as well as you want to know 
 anything. There was no other store in the build 
 ing where they could have been. Of course they 
 were his. But I say he ought to have gone and 
 picked up his things, if he wanted them ; and if he 
 does n t, why, he must expect other people will." 
 
 " I suppose he had n t time," answered Max ; 
 " or perhaps he had so much to think of he for 
 got it." 
 
 " Or perhaps he did n t think anything had stood 
 the fire," said Erne. 
 
 " Any way," continued Max, " I shall carry 
 them back. Wait for me, I sha n t be gone a 
 minute." 
 
 A minute passed, and two, three, five minutes, 
 and Max did not come, nor did he appear till 
 they were almost home. 
 
 " Well," cried Robert, " what did he say ? " 
 
 " Gave you a dollar, I hope, as a reward for 
 your honesty," said Martial. Max was breathless 
 from running, and only shook his head. 
 
 " What ! did n t he give you anything ? " said 
 Martial with pretended astonishment, " after such 
 remarkable self-denial." 
 
 " I did n t give them to him," said Max. 
 
 " Whew ! Got sick of your bargain ? "
 
 TREASURE-TROVE. 21 
 
 " No, I could n t find him. I went all round. 
 Nobody knew where he was." 
 
 " So you brought them back again ? " 
 
 " No I did n t. I went and put them just where 
 I found them." 
 
 " Well, I c?e-clare," said Martial, stepping back 
 ward and putting both hands in his pockets, 
 " if you are n t a greater fool than I took you 
 for ! " 
 
 " I don t care," muttered Max, simply because 
 he did not know what else to say. He looked and 
 felt ashamed, as if he had done something silly, 
 though he could not tell what. 
 
 " For pity s sake," continued Martial, " what 
 good did you suppose that would do ? Are n t 
 there fifty boys round all the time to pick up 
 everything ? " 
 
 " There was n t a single boy near when I put 
 them back, and I don t believe anybody saw me." 
 
 " But they 11 be there again after dinner, and 
 some scoundrel, likely as not, will get them, and 
 that s the last of it. Much good you have done 
 by your honesty." 
 
 Max looked as if he would like to cry ; in fact, 
 Erne thought he did shed a tear or two as he 
 turned away to go home, and she felt sorry for 
 him, and said to Martial, " I don t think you need 
 to have scolded him so."
 
 22 WASHINGTON S BIETHDAY. 
 
 " Scold ! I did n t scold him. It is none of my 
 business. But I do hate to see a man make a 
 goose of himself." 
 
 " I don t think Max is more of a goose than 
 you." Erne had been made bold by the sight 
 of the little boy s grieved face. 
 
 " Just you look here, little upstart ! " said Mar 
 tial, good-naturedly, " don t you undertake to 
 teach your elders. You mind your dolls, will 
 you ? That s your look-out. I 11 take care of 
 myself and Max too." 
 
 " I move that we ask Uncle Arthur about it," 
 said Rob, who had been very quietly turning the 
 matter over in his head. 
 
 " I second the motion," replied Martial ; " not 
 that I have any doubt as to my own opinion, but 
 to satisfy you." 
 
 When they reached home, they went at once to 
 Uncle Arthur s room and knocked. He bade them 
 come in. 
 
 " Are you busy ? " said Martial. 
 
 " Tolerably ; but if your business is very impor 
 tant, as it generally is, I suppose mine can wait, as 
 it generally does." 
 
 " Well, Uncle Arthur, it is moved and sec 
 onded that Max March is a downright simple 
 ton." 
 
 " no ! it is not," burst out Erne ; " that was n t 
 it at all. We said "
 
 TREASURE-TROVE. 23 
 
 " Now you just stop and let me have my say 
 first. One at a time, sha n t she, Uncle ? " So 
 he began at the beginning, giving a very correct 
 account, with a few amendments by his brother 
 and sister, and closed with, " Now, in my opin 
 ion he s the biggest goose out." 
 
 " And we don t think he is," said Rob. 
 
 " And you want my opinion as to the correct 
 ness of your views ? " 
 - " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Yery well, if you will give an exact definition 
 of what you mean by goose, Mr. Martial, it will 
 help me very materially in my decision." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Martial, coloring, " I don t 
 mean precisely that he has feathers and web-feet, 
 but he has acted in a very silly way, and he might 
 just as well have kept the glasses, as to carry them 
 back to be picked up by the first boy that comes 
 along." 
 
 " Now we re going to have a lecture," said 
 Erne. " I always know, when Uncle Arthur runs 
 his hand through his hair so, he is going to say 
 something." 
 
 Her uncle smiled, took Erne s round chin in his 
 hand, and said, " Yes, I am going to give you a 
 lecture, because I want you to understand the 
 difference between one thing and another. You 
 are partly right and partly wrong. Max did not 
 make the best possible disposal of his goods "
 
 24 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 " There ! " said Martial, snapping Rob s ear. 
 
 " Because it would have been better to have 
 given or sent them to the owner. As it is, he will 
 not be likely to hear of them again. In all other 
 respects Max has acted nobly." 
 
 " There ! " said Rob in his turn, trying to snap 
 Martial s ear, but not quite succeeding. 
 
 " And the good he has done, the right he has 
 done, is so much greater than the folly, as not to 
 make it worth taking into account in deciding up 
 on the action. The latter was a mere error in 
 judgment. The former was a firm stand against 
 temptation. He has not much money, and I have 
 no doubt struggled hard, though only for a mo 
 ment, against the desire to keep the gold. His 
 purpose was to keep himself pure from the sin. 
 He did it, when he returned the spectacles to the 
 place whence he took them. So far from calling 
 him a goose, I call him a truthful, honest, noble 
 boy. He was wise in a wisdom which is of God, a 
 higher and truer than any worldly wisdom. He 
 was true to the great principles of right and 
 wrong, though unskilled to tell what was best in a 
 mere money point of view." 
 
 " But, Uncle Arthur, do you think it would 
 have been stealing if he had kept the spectacles, 
 seeing he found them ? " 
 
 " I wont say, my dear, that every one who did
 
 TREASURE-TROVE. 25 
 
 take anything stole it ; but I say that if Max had 
 kept them, it would have been wrong for him. 
 He felt that they were not his, but Mr. Katlin s, 
 and he would have wronged his conscience by 
 keeping them ; and I am sorry that you said any 
 thing which may lead him to regret doing a right 
 thing." 
 
 " There ! " repeated Rob again, " you see I 
 was right." 
 
 " You aggravating little villain ! " exclaimed 
 Martial, with mock fury, "I wont be insulted 
 by a baby ! You had no business to be right when 
 your older brother was wrong ! " and seizing his 
 coat collar, and dexterously applying his foot, he 
 laid Robert at full length on the carpet. 
 
 " And you, what business had you to be 
 wrong, when your younger brother was right ? " 
 said his uncle, laying him by a similar movement 
 " along-side " of Rob ; and so the lecture ended in 
 a very un-lectural frolic. But the truth sunk 
 none the less deep into their hearts for that.
 
 FAST-DAY. 
 
 MORAL COURAGE. 
 
 GREAT, round, and fiery, the April sun was 
 going slowly down, and through the swell 
 ing buds of the Baldwin apple-tree his yellow 
 light glistened on the face of two little girls, 
 perched on the top of the orchard gate. They 
 loved the sunshine, and lived joyously in it all day 
 long, yet now they wished and waited for it to sink 
 behind the gold-rimmed cloud ; for it was " Fast- 
 day," and Matty s mothei always observed it as 
 strictly as the Sabbath, and not till sundown were 
 the eager feet and hands released from a sometimes 
 tiresome restraint. On this particular day, Matty s 
 most intimate and dearest friend, the receiver of 
 all her twelve-year-old secrets, her bosom compan 
 ion in doll-dressing, and vulgar fractions, and 
 candy, Chatty, had come to stay all night with her, 
 and it seemed to the children as if sunset would 
 never come. 
 
 " No, never, I do believe," said Matty, kicking 
 the heels of her Sunday boots impatiently against 
 the gate.
 
 MORAL COURAGE. 27 
 
 " Nothing ever does happen when we want it," 
 added Chatty. " Now, if we were playing, and 
 had to stop at sundown, that big, old, saucy face 
 would go galloping into the sea just as fast as he 
 could, but because we want to be rid of you, you 
 just tease and mock us, you ugly old fellow, in 
 deed you do," and shook her fist laughingly at 
 him, but he hurried none the more. 
 
 " Then they sat still awhile. Chatty broke the 
 silence first. 
 
 " Matty," said she, " don t you think Fast-day 
 is rather funny ? " 
 
 " Funny ! " echoed Matty, " no indeed ! I don t 
 see anything funny about it." 
 
 " But somehow it seems to be half and half, 
 neither one thing nor another. You go to church, 
 yet it is n t Sunday, and you have a fine time, and 
 yet it is n t a week-day." 
 
 " I don t have any finer time than I do Sunday, 
 nor so fine, for I don t go to Sunday-school, and 
 I don t like it so well as I do Sunday. 
 
 " 0, I do, better ; all the boys come home and 
 it s right fun. And we have a grand dinner. 
 "Why, it s next to Thanksgiving." 
 
 " We don t have any dinner, only a little bread 
 and butter." 
 
 " I wonder what Fast-day is for, any way. 
 "What is Fast-day ? It s no faster than any other 
 day."
 
 28 FAST-DAY. 
 
 " No, that is n t what it means. To fast, you 
 know, is not to eat anything. Breakfast is when 
 you break your fast. You don t eat in the night, 
 so you fast, and in the morning you break it." 
 
 " Then we don t have any Fast-day at all, be 
 cause we keep eating." 
 
 " No, I should think not," said Matty mus 
 ingly. 
 
 " But it isn t a real Fast-day to anybody," con 
 tinued Chatty, " because everybody eats some 
 thing. If you don t have a nice dinner, meat nor 
 pudding nor anything, then it s a fast pudding, 
 but it is n t a fast day." 
 
 " Some people don t eat any dinner at all." 
 
 " Then it s a fast-noon, but it can t be a Fast- 
 day unless you don t eat anything all day." 
 
 "Well, J don t know." 
 
 " But what is it for ? " 
 
 " Why, we always have one you know every 
 year, and go to meeting, and all that." 
 
 " I know that, but what is it all about ? " 
 
 " Fasting and prayer," mused Matty, " that is 
 what the paper says, you know. I suppose it is 
 because we are wicked and we must pray to be 
 forgiven ; 0, and is n t that the time when we 
 are thankful for the crops, and the weather, and 
 health, and all that ? " 
 
 " Ho ! " laughed Chatty. " No, that is Thanks-
 
 MORAL COURAGE. 29 
 
 giving. Fast always comes in the spring. We 
 don t have any crops in the spring." 
 
 " yes, I remember now. But I dare say that 
 is why we have it, because we want to get the 
 good crops. In the spring we pray to have them, 
 and in the fall we pray because we ve got them. 
 That must be it." 
 
 " But then we can pray just as well and eat din 
 ner too," she continued, after a short pause. 
 
 " I don t know about that," said Matty, " the 
 Bible says we must fast." 
 
 " Where does it say so ? " 
 
 " I don t know where, but it does." 
 
 " I never saw it, I don t believe it says a word 
 about it." 
 
 " yes, it does. My mother says so. Any 
 way, my mother keeps fast, and so I shall, just as 
 she does." 
 
 " So shall I, just as my mother does, but I should 
 like to know all about it, and I mean to ask my 
 mother, because if " 
 
 " Gone ! " cried Matty, leaping down from the 
 gate with a mighty clapping of hands, for a great 
 slice of the sun had disappeared. 
 
 " No. Going, going, but not gone," said the 
 more patient Chatty. 
 
 " I don t care. Sundown does not mean the 
 whole of the sun," reasoned Matty. " Come, he 11 
 be out of sight by the time we get up stairs."
 
 30 FAST-DAY. 
 
 They went into the house and took off their bon 
 nets,, and, my little friends, if any of you want to 
 know what " Fast-day means," and " what it s 
 for," and " how to keep it," and " all about it," I 
 advise you to do as Chatty concluded to do, " ask 
 your mother." 
 
 Just as they were going up stairs, Matty s father 
 called to her. " Matty, I want you to go to the 
 store and buy me some tobacco." He was an ex 
 cellent man, hard-working, poor, self-denying in 
 many things, but I am sorry to be obliged to say, 
 he would use tobacco. Matty looked disappointed 
 a moment, as she thought of the dolls waiting for 
 her up stairs, but her father said he would build 
 a fire, and get the room warm, while she was gone, 
 and Chatty was very willing to go, so they started 
 merrily. It was only a little way, and the errand 
 was soon done. But the tobacco had not been 
 wrapped very scientifically, and it rubbed against 
 her shawl, and troubled her. 
 
 " I mean to take the paper all off," said Matty. 
 
 " No, indeed, you will have to hold the nasty 
 stuff in your hand, then," exclaimed Chatty, with 
 childish inconsiderateness. 
 
 " I guess if it is clean enough for my father to 
 put in his mouth, it is clean enough for me to hold 
 in my hand," said Matty, a little nettled. 
 Chatty saw that she had made a blunder, but
 
 MORAL COURAGE. 31 
 
 she was not wise enough to know what to say to 
 redeem it, so she said nothing. 
 
 Groups of half-grown boys were beginning to 
 gather in front of the shoemaker s shops, and at 
 the corners of the streets. They were ill-bred and 
 rude, and often jeered at the two little girls. 
 
 " Hullo ! tobacker s fell," cried one. 
 
 " Look here ! Give a fellow a cut, can t you ? " 
 asked another. 
 
 " I say, now, what s your hurry ? I want to fill 
 my pipe." 
 
 Chatty was a little alarmed. She was not 
 used to such things. " 0, do let s hurry," she 
 whispered. 
 
 " Dear me ; they won t touch us. I m not 
 afraid," replied Matty. 
 
 " But do put the tobacco under your shawl, so 
 that they won t see it." 
 
 " I won t do any such thing. My father sent 
 me to get some tobacco, and I guess I m not 
 ashamed to do what my father told me to. If 
 they re a mind to laugh, I don t care. I m not 
 afraid of being laughed at." And she held the to 
 bacco out at half arm s length, very stiff and prom 
 inent. Of course, every boy they met had some 
 thing or other to say about it, and when they 
 reached home, Chatty was ready to cry with anger 
 and fright.
 
 32 FAST-DAY. 
 
 " Chatty is such a coward, you can t think, 
 mother," said Matty. 
 
 " There were ever so many boys, and they acted 
 so," said Chatty, deprecatingly. 
 
 " But /was n t afraid," continued Matty, rather 
 pompously. " I just held it right out so, before 
 them all, and did n t care a bit. Chatty wanted 
 me to put it under my shawl, but I would n t." 
 
 " And a very foolish little girl you were, too," 
 said her mother. 
 
 " Ma am ! " 
 
 " And conceited and selfish, withal." 
 
 " Why, mother ! " Matty s face had grown 
 wondrous long. 
 
 " What could induce you to make such a sim 
 pleton of yourself ? " 
 
 " Why, mother, did n t my Sunday-school book 
 tell all about moral courage, and the boy that 
 was n t afraid of being laughed at ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear, but that was entirely different. 
 He was doing what he ought to do, and was not to 
 be laughed into doing wrong." 
 
 " Well, I am sure, so was I doing what I ought 
 to do. Father wanted me to go for the tobacco." 
 
 " He did n t want you to hold it in front of you, 
 like a walking advertisement." 
 
 " But, mother, do you want me to be afraid of 
 being laughed at ? "
 
 MOKAL COURAGE. 33 
 
 " I want you to be so afraid of it, as not to do 
 anything to provoke it. There is no merit in per 
 secution or ridicule. If we suffer for Christ s 
 sake, very well, but if we draw reproach upon our 
 selves just for the sake of showing that we don t 
 mind it, it is both foolish and vain. Chatty showed 
 a great deal more sense than you. You ought to 
 have held the tobacco out of sight. There was no 
 good to be gained by exposing it, and an evil to 
 be avoided by not exposing it. You ought, also, 
 to have had more regard to Chatty s feelings, 
 and, since there was no principle at stake, to 
 have saved her annoyance. But everything had 
 to bend to your vainglorious feeling, I am cour 
 ageous, I am not afraid. So you see your moral 
 courage has turned into folly, self-conceit, and self 
 ishness, as I told you before." 
 
 " Well, I declare ! " said Matty, quite crest 
 fallen at this new view of the case, yet self-con 
 victed of its truth. 
 
 " For my part," said Matty s brother, Robert, 
 who had come in during the latter part of the con 
 versation, " I think people make a great deal of 
 fuss about moral courage as if it was some great 
 thing. I think it s the easiest kind of courage." 
 
 "Do you ? " said his mother quietly. 
 
 " Yes, ma am ; for instance now, if I was going 
 along in a wood, and had a great deal of money in 
 
 2* C
 
 34 FAST-DAY. 
 
 a dark night, and a robber should come along with 
 a pistol, and I had n t any, and should threaten to 
 kill me if I did n t give him my money, I should 
 be afraid ; but if he should want to make me rob 
 people too, and should just threaten to laugh at 
 me if I did n t, do you think I should mind him ? 
 No indeed. He might laugh a year right straight 
 off and I shouldn t care." 
 
 Their mother was called away at that moment 
 and their conversation was turned to dolls and 
 dresses. 
 
 The summer came and went, and their father s 
 strong frame was bowed with illness. For weeks 
 he lay on the verge of the grave, but Mrs. Ashley s 
 prayers were answered, and he went out once 
 more into the sunshine of the happy day. Yet for 
 a long time after he was pronounced out of danger 
 he was weak and unable to take that active part 
 in supporting his family which he had been accus 
 tomed to do. Consequently a heavier burden 
 fell on the wife and mother, but she bore it, nobly 
 and cheerfully. Many little wonted luxuries were 
 silently given up, that poverty might not press on 
 her children s hearts, and they, though they knew 
 few of her sacrifices, rewarded her mother s heart 
 by their prompt obedience and tender love. Mat 
 ty particularly learned to be careful and saving, 
 thoughtful of the happiness of others, self-denying
 
 MORAL COURAGE. 35 
 
 and patient. The summer had brought no fairer 
 fruit on. the earth than had sprung up in that 
 young heart. 
 
 " See what has come for you," said Matty to 
 Robert one fine morning in November, as lie came 
 in from the frosty air with his cheeks all aglow. 
 
 " What is it ? where did you get it ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Harcourt sent it. It s going to be a 
 jacket for you." 
 
 " It s a horrid thing ! " and Robert looked down 
 contemptuously on the cloth which Matty was 
 holding up to show. 
 
 " I am sure it s a very pretty color," said she, 
 deprecatingly. 
 
 " It s a horrid color." 
 
 " Why, it s just the color of the covers of mam 
 ma s Tennyson, that Uncle Blake gave her, that 
 you liked so much." 
 
 " So you liked the color of the shell that he gave 
 me, but you would n t want your hair to be of that 
 shade. No more do I want to be dressed up in 
 mamma s Tennyson. I tell you I can t wear it, 
 and I won t ! " and Robert looked very wronged, 
 and fierce, and determined. 
 
 " 0, don t say so, don t ! " pleaded poor Matty ; 
 " when you know how poor papa is sick, and has 
 to keep working all the time, and it s as much as 
 mamma can do to keep us whole at all."
 
 36 FAST-DAY. 
 
 " I don t care, I m not going to be dressed up 
 like a dancing doll. I won t wear it, so, there ! " 
 and he turned away, but he spoke in a choking 
 voice, and his bright eyes were full of tears. 
 
 Kobert was very kind and affectionate, and loved 
 his parents. He knew that they worked hard, 
 and were often troubled and careworn. He knew 
 that when Mrs. Harcourt gave the piece of blue 
 cloth to his mother, it answered a question which 
 she had been anxiously asking for many days, 
 " How shall I spare money enough to buy Rob a 
 jacket ? " Still, it was so different from the other 
 boys jackets, and he thought it would look so fun 
 ny. I dare say no one would have noticed it, but 
 he thought every one would, so it was all the same 
 to him. Besides it would have done no harm if it 
 had been noticed. 
 
 Mamma entered just then. She saw the cloud 
 on the face of her beloved ones, and inquired 
 the cause. Neither spoke immediately. Tender 
 hearted little Matty did not wish to grieve her 
 mother or Robert, and she did not see how she 
 could offer an explanation without doing both. As 
 for Robert, he would have found it rather difficult 
 to speak, if he had tried. But mamma saw the 
 cloth in Matty s hand, and she divined the trouble. 
 
 " What is it ? " she said cheerily ; " does n t Rob 
 like his new jacket ? "
 
 MORAL COURAGE. 37 
 
 " mamma ! " sobbed he, coming forward, 
 " I am dreadfully sorry, but I can t wear it. I 
 shall look such an object, and all the boys will 
 laugh." 
 
 It was out, and Matty stood gazing at her moth 
 er, the perfect picture of distress. 
 
 " Why, you dear little simpletons," said mamma, 
 " why have you been working yourselves up into 
 such a tempest ? One would think the fate of 
 the world depended upon a jacket." 
 
 Matty had evidently expected her mother would 
 go into hysterics, or that something terrible would 
 happen, and she was greatly relieved by the very 
 calm way in which she took it. 
 
 " Then, mother, you don t care at all ? " said 
 Rob, starting up from the lounge where he had 
 thrown himself. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I care at all, but I don t want 
 you both to look as if there never was going to be 
 any more sunshine in the world." 
 
 " Won t you just tell us how you do feel ? " 
 said Matty. 
 
 " Yes, tell us exactly what you think about it," 
 added Robert. 
 
 " Very well, I will try to give you my views on 
 the subject. Let us look at the cloth. It is a 
 very pretty color. It is very good, stout, warm 
 cloth. Still, I know it is different from other jack
 
 38 FAST-DAY. 
 
 ets, and will very likely attract attention. I should 
 be very glad if my Robert was brave enough, how 
 ever, to wear it, for all that. I should like to 
 know that he was strong enough to do what he 
 thought right, even if his schoolmates should 
 laugh at him. But I shall not insist upon his 
 wearing it. I shall let him do as he chooses." 
 
 " But, mamma," said Robert, sadly, " you will 
 think all the time that I am an ungrateful and sel 
 fish boy ; and that will be about as bad as wearing 
 the jacket, and I sha n t have any peace of my life, 
 any way." 
 
 " No, indeed," said his mamma, smiling, " I 
 shall think no such thing. I shall be a little 
 disappointed in finding you less strong than I 
 supposed, but you are a little boy still, and I can 
 not expect you to be as immovable as a man. 
 When you are older, I expect you will be as firm 
 as the solid rock in doing right, and even now 
 I know you would be willing to do and to suffer 
 almost anything for your parents, except being 
 laughed at." 
 
 This comforted Robert not a little. " But what 
 will he do for a jacket ? " asked Matty. Her moth 
 er s face lost its smile. 
 
 " I don t wan t any," said Robert quickly, " I 
 will make the old one do." 
 
 " No, my dear, the old one is almost worn out
 
 MORAL COURAGE. 39 
 
 now. You cannot make it last through the win 
 ter." There was a pause. " I can think of one 
 thing but " 
 
 " What is it ? " cried they both, seeing their 
 mother hesitated. 
 
 " I do not know that I ought to mention it, as it 
 will involve a sacrifice on Matty s part, that I am 
 not sure she ought to be called on to make." 
 
 " never mind me, mamma," cried Matty, 
 eagerly. " I shall not care in the least. I will 
 do anything." 
 
 " You remember the cloth Aunt Matty gave you 
 several weeks ago for a cloak ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma am," said Matty, flushing up to the 
 roots of her hair. " You mean, mamma," she 
 added, bravely, after a moment s silence, " it would 
 make a good jacket for Robert." 
 
 " Yes, my dear." 
 
 " No, I won t do that," said Robert stoutly. " I 
 won t take Matty s cloak. I would rather freeze 
 stiff in a snow-bank." 
 
 " Matty can have a cloak of the blue cloth." 
 
 " I should think the brown was enough for a 
 cloak and jacket, too," said Matty. 
 
 " no, Matty. These round cloaks take more 
 cloth than you suppose." 
 
 " Then he may have it ; I don t care." 
 
 " But I tell you I won t," persisted Robert.
 
 40 FAST-DAY. 
 
 " Do you think I am such a thief and a robber ? 
 Why should you look like a fright any more 
 than I ? " 
 
 " I shall not look like a fright, shall I, mam 
 ma ? " Matty had had a struggle, at first, to give 
 up the cloak which she had anticipated so long, 
 but now the struggle was over, and she heartily 
 wished Robert to take it, particularly since she 
 was afraid he would not. 
 
 " No," said their mother. " The cloak will be 
 less singular than the jacket ; in fact, I think it 
 will look very well. And as Matty is quite willing 
 you should have it, and as it will be very incon 
 venient for your papa and me to buy you another 
 jacket, I think, Robert, you would better take it. 
 You need not fear making Matty unhappy, as I am 
 sure she would derive more pleasure from seeing 
 it on your shoulders than on her own." 
 
 " Yes, that I shoiild," cried Matty, " especially 
 when I know that he would feel so miserable in 
 the blue cloth." 
 
 So it was decided that Robert should have the 
 brown, and Matty the blue cloth. 
 
 But Robert was not so happy as Matty thought 
 he would be. He was not satisfied with himself. 
 He remembered that his mother had said she was 
 disappointed in him, and he felt that he had 
 not been brave and manly, not even so brave as
 
 MORAL COUBAGE. 41 
 
 his sister, whom he had often laughed at for being 
 afraid of a mouse, or a spider. The more Robert 
 thought of it, the more dissatisfied he felt, and one 
 morning he stopped in the midst of his dressing, 
 stamped his foot on the floor, and exclaimed, 
 " Now, Robert Astley, stop this. You have been 
 a coward, you know you have, and a mean coward, 
 too. You have palmed off on your sister, what 
 you were ashamed to wear yourself. Right about 
 face ! " 
 
 The moment he was dressed, he went straight 
 down stairs to his mother. " It s no use, moth 
 er," he began. " I had rather be hung outright, 
 than pricked to death with a needle. I won t be 
 haunted all winter by the ghost of Matty s cloak. 
 I d rather wear a jacket with all the colors of the 
 rainbow than feel mean." 
 
 " Too late ! " said his mother, smiling, and hold 
 ing up the blue cloth, which was already cut into 
 cloak shape. Matty smiled too, but Robert was 
 in consternation. 
 
 " You need n t care in the least," said Matty. 
 " It s a very pretty cloak, and I would a great 
 deal rather see you wear a jacket like the other 
 boys." 
 
 " And as you have finally got the victory," con 
 tinued his mother, " you may as well get all the 
 comfort you can out of the jacket. You will know 
 better what to do the next time."
 
 42 FAST-DAY. 
 
 " That I will, indeed, but I wish I could do 
 something, or wear something now, that should 
 make all the boys kill themselves with laughing 
 at me, so you should see I am not afraid of 
 them." 
 
 " I think it is hardly worth while to prove you 
 by bringing about a wholesale slaughter ; but do 
 you remember, my dear, a little talk we began to 
 have last Fast-day about moral courage, and how 
 easy you thought it would be to be laughed at ? " 
 
 " yes, mother, I remember it perfectly, but 
 then I meant doing something wrong rather than 
 be laughed at. Here, you know, it was n t any 
 thing wrong that I was afraid would be laughed 
 at, but " 
 
 " But a color." 
 
 " Well, now, yes I give up, for that time, but 
 you 11 see I will have no end of moral courage 
 after this. I m not afraid of anything, see if I 
 am. Come on, Matty, let s fight," and he 
 doubled his fists at her in most valiant wise.
 
 MAY-DAY. 
 
 BEING A BOY. 
 
 MRS. MAYLAND was spending two or three 
 months away from home for the sake of 
 having her little Agnes under the care of a physi 
 cian ; Uncle Albert had put Martial at school. 
 Rob and Erne were invited to make a visit at 
 their Uncle Meadows s where was a houseful of 
 cousins, and little Meg was left under the care 
 of Mrs. Deccomb, who was a cousin of Mrs. May- 
 land s. Meg often visited there and was much de 
 lighted with the arrangement. Augusta Deccomb 
 had an older brother named Nathan, who was 
 very fond of little Margaret, and her cousin Joshua, 
 about her own age, lived at the head of the lane 
 about twenty rods off. When Nathan was at work 
 on the farm, Joshua was very glad to play with Au 
 gusta, and they were excellent friends. I believe 
 they never quarrelled, but agreed exactly on all 
 points. When Meg first went to them they paid 
 her royal honors ; but after the novelty had worn off 
 they became rather lordly themselves, and vied with
 
 44 MAY-DAY. 
 
 each other in browbeating, ordering, and other 
 wise snubbing Miss Meg, who was always with 
 them, and who was only too glad to be browbeaten, 
 ordered, and snubbed, if she might thereby pur 
 chase the privilege of accompanying them in all 
 their excursions. When they took the truckle- 
 cart and rambled into the woods, she trotted be 
 hind. When they lay in ambush for stray squir 
 rels, she squatted beside them, and both kept 
 digging their elbows into her patient sides, and 
 whispering, " Kee still ! kee still ! " making them 
 selves, with their poking and their whispering, 
 twenty times as much noise as she who scarcely 
 breathed in her anxiety to keep still. When they 
 came home from school they always appeared 
 around the turn of the lane in one line of march, 
 Joshua and Augusta ahead and abreast with their 
 tin-pails, and Meg trudging along a step or two in 
 the rear like a little puppy. 
 
 Happy as they were together, I am obliged to 
 confess that Joshua was in some respects a coward. 
 Although he truly enjoyed the company of his 
 girl friends, yet no sooner was Nathan through 
 with his work, and ready for play, than Joshua 
 left the girls, flew to him, and even began to take 
 on airs, look down upon girls, and make himself 
 in many ways pompous. At such times Augusta 
 betook herself to Meg, and found solace in concen-
 
 BEING A BOY. 45 
 
 trating her authority and dignity upon her, and 
 tyrannized over her with unparalleled and abso 
 lute rigor. Now I suppose you think Margaret 
 must have been a very miserable young person ; 
 not a bit. Snubbing is nothing when you once 
 get used to it. Meg, besides being quite used to it, 
 did not even know that she was snubbed, and was 
 as happy as a queen. 
 
 Augusta s favorite amusement, during her short 
 divorces from Joshua, was to play at being boy. 
 She enacted Joshua, and Meg, to her supreme de 
 light, was dubbed Nathan. If she ever showed 
 any symptom of rebellion against Augusta, it only 
 needed to say, " There ! no boy, no boy ! " and 
 Margaret crouched at her feet again. They used 
 to go up garret and trick themselves out in Na 
 than s old jackets, caps, and waistcoats, and made 
 themselves up into true scarecrows you may well 
 believe. 
 
 Ambition grows by what it feeds on, as you will 
 learn when you grow up, if you do not know it now, 
 and Augusta, from being willing to give all she 
 had in the world, if she could only be a boy, came 
 at length to conclude that she would be as much 
 like a boy as possible, and made herself quite dis 
 agreeable sometimes by persisting in following the 
 boys wherever they went with her faithful attend 
 ant Meg.
 
 46 MAY-DAY. 
 
 So when Nathan announced one May-day morn 
 ing that he and Joshua should turn the holiday 
 to account by going a-fishing, Miss Augusta, like 
 Peter of old, announced that she also should go 
 with him. 
 
 " You ! " ejaculated Nathan, scornfully, " you 
 would make a pretty figure trampoosing through 
 bogs, and woods, and brooks, and brush, a dozen 
 miles." 
 
 " Poh ! " said Augusta, tossing back his scorn, 
 you needn t talk. I can trampoose as well as 
 Joshua." 
 
 " You can lag, and bother, and make an outcry 
 at a spider. That s what you can do. See here," 
 he said to Joshua, who just then entered, armed 
 and equipped, " Gusty here wants to go a-fish 
 ing. I ve a great mind to let her, just to get rid 
 of her." 
 
 " That won t be getting rid of her," replied 
 Joshua. 
 
 " Yes it will. She 11 soon be tired of beating 
 round after us, and stay at home, and give us some 
 rest." 
 
 " Well, I d let her then," said magnanimous 
 Joshua. 
 
 " See here now, Gusty, you ve got to keep up 
 and not cry, and do everything. If you will be a 
 boy, be a boy. "Which will you carry, the lun 
 cheon or the bait ? "
 
 BEING A BOY. 47 
 
 " The baii>-box is the smallest. Let Meg take 
 that. I 11 have the luncheon." 
 
 " Meg ? Meg too ? " queried Nathan, doubtfully. 
 " Well, yes, we 11 finish the girls this time. Come 
 along." I do not think that Nathan was over-cour 
 teous, but boys are very apt not to be over-courte 
 ous to their sisters. 
 
 If Mrs. Deccomb had been at home, I suspect 
 there might have been some objection to little 
 Meg s starting on such a tramp ; but Hannah had 
 been left in charge for a day or two, and she never 
 could refuse the children anything, and believed, 
 indeed, that nothing was so likely to injure them 
 as being crossed. So she contented herself with 
 giving them strict injunctions on no account to 
 lose sight of Meg, and they all departed together. 
 Through green woods, by many a narrow path, 
 and often with no path at all, tramping along the 
 sweet May morning, what a glorious thing it was 
 to be a boy, and how Gusty plumed herself, and 
 patronized Meg, and scolded her when she did not 
 keep up ; but suddenly a terrific shriek burst from 
 those little lips, and there stood Meg, with the bait- 
 box at her feet, and both arms wildly tossing. 
 
 " What s the matter ? " cried Nathan. 
 
 " Ugh ! eh ! ah ! " gasped poor Madge. 
 
 " It s a snake bit her," suggested Joshua. 
 
 " It s a fit," trembled Gusty. " Jane Smith s 
 baby has em."
 
 48 MAY-DAY. 
 
 "0," moaned Meg, recovering her breath. 
 " Baits is worms ! I ony peeked in ! " 
 
 " Horrendum visu!" cried Nathan, in mock 
 alarm. "What did you think baits is, ele 
 phants ? So much for having girls round." And 
 he scooped up the long, wriggling, disgusting 
 worms, and strode off, Meg following, very much 
 cast down. But no wonder a little girl was 
 scared when she peeped into an innocent-looking 
 little box, and found she was carrying in her own 
 hand so loathsome a company ; for, talk as you will 
 about everything being the work of one Creator, I 
 believe that the same hand that made worms made 
 them loathsome to people in general. 
 
 "0! there s the brook," cried Gusty, as the 
 bright water leaped suddenly into view. " Is that 
 where the fishes live ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but further down. We must ford this." 
 And Nathan began to take off his shoes and stock 
 ings, and roll his trousers up away above his knees. 
 So did Joshua. So did Gusty to a limited extent, 
 for though she could dispose of her pantalets, her 
 dress became a serious consideration. Meg began 
 also to exhibit her light fantastic toes in high glee. 
 
 " Stop that," suddenly ordered Nathan. " You 
 are not knee high to a trout. I m going to back 
 you. Put on your stockings and shoes." 
 
 " 0, 1 want to go in the water," moaned Meg.
 
 BEING A BOY. 49 
 
 " And be carried away by the current, and lodged 
 in the old mill-wheel ? " 
 
 " No," sighed Meg ; and hurried on her shoes 
 again. Gusty meanwhile followed Joshua down 
 to the brookside, and stepped daintily and on tip 
 toe into the water. It was rather cold, though 
 the day was warm. The mud squeezed in be 
 tween her toes and tickled her. She lifted her 
 feet up with " a suck," and then they sank deeper 
 in. Then she came to the pebbles and they were 
 not pleasant, and some large stones rolled over 
 when she stepped on them, and came very near 
 letting her into the water ; but she kept laughing 
 and shouting, " 0, it s splendid ! " and then the 
 water grew deeper, and wrapped itself around her 
 knees, and she had much ado to keep her clothes 
 dry, and at the same time hold on by her luncheon 
 basket, and her shoes and stockings. But still she 
 kept shouting, " 0, splendid ! splendid ! Don t you 
 wish you were here, Meg? " While Meg, on Na 
 than s shoulders, was frightened into pale silence, 
 expecting every minute to go down, splash ! into the 
 water and be drowned, and could only cling and 
 cling, and wished in her heart she were safe home 
 again. 
 
 " Hold up your dress," cried Joshua to Gusty ; 
 " you are getting it all drabbled behind." Gusty 
 gave a quick clutch at it and dropped her shoe.
 
 50 MAY-DAY. 
 
 The brook, nothing loath, bore it merrily away. 
 In great dismay she called to Nathan, who was 
 quite across, and he rushed along the bank, 
 plunged in and brought it safely ashore, but some 
 what soaked. A little prick in her foot disturbed 
 Gusty, and looking, lo ! a little black, slimy thing 
 was sticking fast on it. She kicked with nervous 
 fury, but only wrenched her knee. The black 
 thing gathered and broadened himself, but did 
 not come off, and after three seconds of frantic 
 effort, she screamed nearly as loud as Meg had 
 done, " 0, get it off! get it off! " 
 
 " It s nothing but a bloodsucker ! " said Joshua 
 coolly, snatching it up. " Afraid of a bloodsuck 
 er!" 
 
 " I m not afraid of a bloodsucker," declared 
 Gusty ; " but he bit me." 
 
 " Why did n t you get him off then ? " 
 
 " I did ; but the harder I shook, the harder he 
 stuck. How are you going to dry your feet ? Did 
 you bring a towel ? " 
 
 "A towel! my! a towel a-fishing! No; roll 
 em and dry em so, on the grass." Gusty did as 
 well as she could, but gravel and grass and straws 
 got on rather faster than the wet got off, and when 
 Nathan came up with the heavy, wet shoe on the 
 end of a long branch, she snatched it, shook the 
 water out, stuck her foot in, and walked on, the
 
 BEING A BOY. 51 
 
 water dropping from her dress down upon her 
 stockings, and soaking from her shoes up. 
 
 A tossing, tumbling, chattering, saucy, helter- 
 skelter, head-foremost little brook it was, never 
 still, never tired. Meg s little feet began to feel 
 as if they would be tired one of these days, but 
 her Spartan soul gave no sound. " Why don t 
 you catch some fishes here?" she asked, with a 
 sidewise view to resting. 
 
 " No fishes to catch," answered Nathan. " Got 
 to go along to where it is stiller. Fish can t live 
 in a cataract." And the little feet plodded pa 
 tiently on. 
 
 " Ship ahoy ! " roared Nathan suddenly to Gusty, 
 who was furtively inserting her fingers into the 
 luncheon-basket. 
 
 " I don t care. I am as hungry as a bear," an 
 swered Gusty coolly ; and a large slice of bread 
 and butter began to appear and disappear at one 
 and the same moment. 
 
 " So be I," echoed Meg. " Let s have dinner 
 now." 
 
 "Dinner now, before we ve begun. That s 
 always the way with girls." But notice : deep into 
 the basket went Nathan s fingers, and quick down 
 his throat went quite as large a slice of bread and 
 butter as Gusty s, and they all lay around on the 
 grass, chatting and resting.
 
 52 MAY-DAY. 
 
 " Let s not fish," suggested Meg. " Let s call 
 it a picnic, and have a good time." 
 
 " Yes, we shall fish," exclaimed Gusty severely. 
 " It s just the day for it. A picnic is nothing. 
 Did you bring a hook and line for me, Nat ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but we sha n t catch any fish. It is n t a 
 good day. Too bright. Fish wont come out when 
 the sun burns em." 
 
 " Ought to have a cloudy day," said Joshua, 
 anxious to display his small stock of piscatorial 
 wisdom. 
 
 " There s clouds now," said Gusty, blinking up 
 into the sky. 
 
 " A mackerel sky, that s nothing." 
 
 " What s a mackerel sky ? " queried Meg. 
 
 " A sky to catch mackerel under," answered 
 Nathan. 
 
 " A sky that looks like a mackerel s scales," said 
 Joshua. " A spotted sky." 
 
 " Derived from the Latin, macula, a spot," con 
 tinued Nathan, learnedly. Meg began to look be 
 wildered. 
 
 " I should n t like to catch a whale," she broke 
 in at right angles, as usual. 
 
 " You won t be likely. Don t be afraid," said Na 
 than, soothingly. " This brook is n t large enough. 
 You can t find whales short of Mill s pond." 
 
 " But simple Simon found em in his mother s
 
 BEING A BOY. 53 
 
 pail," persisted Meg, who had implicit faith in 
 Mother Goose. 
 
 " 0, what a guy girls are ! " shouted Nathan. 
 
 " But she s such a little girl," interposed Gusty, 
 agonized for the reputation of her sex. 
 
 " Ho ! a boy no bigger n a walnut would know 
 better than that. Come, come along, all of you. 
 Here, take the lines. Now you look out when we 
 get to a place. And don t you talk. You keep 
 still. Bimeby the fish 11 come, trout and roach 
 and all of em, perhaps." 
 
 "0, how shall I know ? I want to know what 
 I catch," asked Gusty, eagerly. 
 
 " You 11 know fast enough when you catch em, 
 I guess. There s roach, they re shy. They 11 
 come up and smell, and smell, and bite the back 
 of the hook. Trout are all red and blue and mot 
 tled ; there 11 be lots of them. There s a place 
 where the stream runs along under the bank, and 
 it s all black, and the old fellow likes that. He 
 backbites furiously. You look out now. He s a 
 game fish. And there s suckers, kind of long 
 and narrow and lazy. 0, well, you catch most 
 any kind. A polliwog s better than nothing." 
 
 And so they tramped on and on and on, drop 
 ping their lines into the water now and then, but 
 pulling them out when Nathan gave the word of 
 command, and rambling further down the stream,
 
 54 MAY-DAY. 
 
 through thickets and underbrush, across rich, 
 loamy fields, over moist meadow-lands, now ankle- 
 deep in muck and moss, then scrambling as well as 
 possible among thorns and briers, leaping from 
 green slimy rocks to green slimy bogs. Ah ! what 
 a tramp ! 
 
 " You ve teared your dress a little," panted Meg 
 in a breathing-hole. 
 
 "You ve teared yours about off; hush up!" 
 retorted Gusty. 
 
 Both hats had fallen off, and hung on their 
 necks, and, with very hot cheeks, and very red 
 faces, they pressed on. Nathan had caught three 
 suckers, and that was the amount of the whole 
 party s success. Occasionally Meg would scream, 
 " 0, I ve catched a trout; I know "I have!" 
 But her trouts and her suckers generally turned 
 into an old branch, or a mass of dead matted 
 weeds. Then she began to be so wholly tired that 
 she forgot her vassalage, and grew cross, and it 
 was, " 0, I ve got a rock in my shoe ! " and all 
 came to a halt till the forlorn little shoe was 
 righted. "0, my line is snapped by a tree!" 
 And Nathan took it in charge. Finally, in sheer 
 despair, out came the whole truth, exploding in a 
 violent " crying - spell," as poor little Margaret 
 shrieked, in a very rage of fatigue, " 0, 1 want to 
 go home ! I m so hot, and it burns me and sticks 
 to me ! I want to go home ! "
 
 BEING A BOY. 55 
 
 Now Meg was generally so plastic and passive, 
 that, when she did set up for herself, everybody 
 knew that something must be done about it. So 
 nobody scolded her, but the two boys gave up their 
 " traps " to Gusty, and made a " lady s chair " to 
 carry Meg a little way and rest her. But Gusty 
 was almost as tired as Meg, and with their fishing- 
 poles, a basket, and a box, she was fast finding life 
 a burden. More than once she stumbled over the 
 fishing-rods, and once she scratched her arm with 
 a hook. Presently they reached a place where the 
 fence came quite down to the water s edge, and in 
 deed half-way across the brook. The bank was 
 rocky and uneven. The boys got safely over with 
 Meg, and Nathan told Gusty to stand stock still 
 till he came back to take the rods. But nothing 
 was farther from Gusty s intention than to stand 
 still. She tilted her rods against the fence, stepped 
 cautiously along the rock, and to the top of the 
 fence. The fence was rather crazy. Her weight 
 made it sway and stagger, and the rods slid down 
 against her. Not knowing what was going to hap 
 pen, she gave a spring, forgetting that she might 
 just as well tumble in as jump in. She did indeed 
 land on the rock as she intended, but with such 
 force, that she bounced from it head foremost into 
 the brook. 
 
 Joshua stared, Nathan laughed, and Meg 
 screamed, " 0, she is drownded ! " But she was
 
 56 MAY-DAY. " 
 
 not at all " drowndcd," could not drown if she 
 had tried. She scrambled up thoroughly wet, and 
 scrambled out thoroughly disgusted. 
 
 " It was all you ! You did it," she cried furi 
 ously to Nathan. 
 
 " How d I do it, for pity s sake ? " gasped Nathan, 
 rolling on the grass in a most exasperating fit of 
 laughter. 
 
 "Because you because because you made 
 me lug all the things." 
 
 " Well, the things did n t get you in, did they ? 
 You just plumped in yourself. you frog ! Come 
 here, and let s wring you out. dear ! who 
 but a girl would ever think of jumping head first 
 into a trout-brook ? " 
 
 But Gusty was not to be wrung out. She was 
 too thoroughly drenched for that, and there was 
 nothing for it but to turn about and march home, 
 which they did ; Joshua, to his credit be it said, 
 sympathizing with Gusty too much to laugh at 
 her, but too cowardly to stand up for her like a 
 man, and therefore somewhat silent ; Nathan, jok 
 ing and laughing very provokingly, but swinging 
 Meg, now on his back, now in his arms, and now 
 coaxing her to trot along by his side ; and Gusty 
 either silent or savage. The worst of it was, that 
 for days after, two little faces were the most dread 
 ful little faces you ever saw, sunburnt, red, 
 swollen, and sore, so that one could hardly recog-
 
 BEING A BOY. 57 
 
 nize them. Continued application of cold cream 
 restored them after a while to their natural shape 
 and color ; but for a long time Gusty s face had a 
 way of turning marvellously red whenever Nathan 
 chose and that was mischievously often to ask 
 her how she liked being a boy. 
 
 On the whole I am rather sorry I have told you 
 this story, and I think I will not do so any more, 
 lest you begin to think girls ought not to roam 
 about with boys ; but I want girls to go trouting 
 and rambling and frolicking in the fields and 
 woods just as much as boys ; only, if they have 
 not been used to it, they ought to be a little care 
 ful how they attempt hard tramps in the begin 
 ning, especially if their brothers do not give them 
 a very hearty invitation ! Gusty made her ex 
 periment under disadvantages. She tried too 
 much for the first time, and Nathan was not so 
 sympathizing as might have been desired ; but 
 after all, I don t know that it did her the least 
 harm. It is better to be sunburnt than shadow- 
 paled, so I advise all you little girls to tie your 
 hats close upon your heads, put on your rubber or 
 stout leather boots, and strike straight out into the 
 woods, where I doubt not you will have such fine 
 frolics, that the first you know your brothers will 
 be stealing out after you, and begging you to let 
 them come too ! 
 
 3*
 
 BIRTHDAY. 
 
 CATHAY S COSSET. 
 
 " IT 7" ELL, of all the March winds that ever I 
 V see, this beats all ! If that door has 
 blowed open once, it s blowed open twenty times 
 this morning ! " and Hannah wiped the soapsuds 
 from her soaped and wrinkled hands preparatory 
 to going into the passage to shut the refractory 
 door. " I 11 have a new latch on ; I won t be 
 
 bothered in this way. It s all along of that 
 
 lawful heart, child ! what are you standing here 
 for like a post ? " 
 
 It was a very pinched and blue and cold little 
 face that looked up wistfully at Hannah, turning 
 her so suddenly from her soliloquy ; but the blue 
 lips gave no sound. Now Hannah, a stout, brisk, 
 rough kind of a woman, with arms as brown as a 
 berry and as big as a (small) stove-pipe, had a 
 heart just as large and very soft. The child s 
 sad eyes looked straight into that heart of hers, 
 so, instead of telling her to go away, she said, 
 " Well, come in and get warm, at any rate. You
 
 CATHAY S COSSET. 59 
 
 want that if you don t want anything else. How 
 on earth anybody can manage to get so cold, I 
 can t conceive." The last part was muttered 
 rather than spoken ; and in her warm kitchen, 
 over her wash-tub, it was difficult for Hannah to 
 form conceptions of cold. 
 
 " If you please, ma am, I should like " be 
 gan the child tremulously, and hesitated. 
 
 " Out with it," bounced Hannah, " a piece of 
 bread and butter, I suppose." 
 
 " no, ma am, no indeed ; I am not a beggar ; 
 I only wanted to know, is Mrs. Deccomb at home, 
 and could I see her ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, she s at home, and I suppose you 
 can see her, but I dont see what you can want 
 of her," she would have said, but did not, only 
 added, " Well, come along, I 11 show you where to 
 go ; there, third door." 
 
 The little girl gave a faint rap, and a pleasant 
 voice said, " Come in." She entered. Mrs. Dec- 
 comb sat by the fire sewing. She looked up 
 rather surprised at the strange form, and for a 
 moment the child was too much frightened to 
 speak ; but she presently faltered out, " If you 
 please, ma am, I wanted to ask you, do you 
 know, anybody, would like to have me work 
 for you?" 
 
 " Work for me ? " said Mrs. Deccomb, smiling,
 
 60 BIRTHDAY. 
 
 as she glanced at the slight figure, trembling now 
 from cold and excitement. " Come and warm 
 yourself, and we will talk about it." The little 
 girl sat down on a cricket before the bright wood 
 fire, and its glow seemed to enter into her heart, 
 for not only did her blue cheeks turn red, but a 
 new light danced in her sorrowful eyes. 
 
 " What is your name, my dear ? " said Mrs. Dec- 
 comb kindly. 
 
 " Cathay Horn, ma am, and I in not a beggar. 
 
 " No indeed, but you wish to* work and get 
 money for yourself, is that it? Have you no 
 father nor mother ? " 
 
 " yes, ma am, but father has been sick ; or, 
 he has n t been very sick, but the cow has, and the 
 cow died, and father was n t very well, not well 
 enough to work and get another." 
 
 " Yes, I think I have heard of you. You have 
 moved lately to the mills, have n t you ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma am ; but father was took sick, and he 
 could not work. It s his hand that is sick, and 
 he can t work no more n if he was sick all over. 
 A a forger, or something dreadful, grew on his 
 hand." 
 
 " A felon, was it ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma am, that was it, and when the cow 
 died he felt very bad, and we all eat so much, it 
 takes so much " Cathay hesitated.
 
 CATHAY S COSSET. 61 
 
 " How many brothers and sisters have you ? " 
 
 " Well, a good many ; I don t know exactly 
 how many, but I can tell you their names." 
 
 " Very well, let me hear them." 
 
 " Yes, ma am. There s Molly, and Wad, and 
 Joe, and Life, and Dud, Patty, Becker, and Judy, 
 and the baby, and Hetty besides, and me ! " 
 
 Mrs. Deccomb could hardly help laughing at the 
 rapidity with which she spun off the names. " And 
 do you all live at home ? " 
 
 " No, ma am ; Molly minds Mrs. Eice s baby, 
 and Life his name is Eliphalet, but we call ham 
 Life for short he is learning a trade at Mr. Par- 
 sons s, and Joe and Dud arc in the mill. The rest 
 of us live at home ; and last month I had a 
 lamb that Mr. Rice gave me, an early lamb to 
 take care of, and he s so lovely, and his name 
 is Pearl. I named him, and he knows me, and 
 has a ribbon round his neck, and 0, I love him 
 so ; and we eat so much that father can t hardly 
 get enough for us to eat ; and, he does n t say I 
 must n t keep the lamb, but Patty says it s a 
 shame, and how I ought to sell him and buy 
 money with him, but 0, I can t sell him, and 
 I thought last night I would see if I couldn t 
 work for somebody and buy money that way, and 
 then I could save my lamb till he s grown up into a 
 sheep, and then he d have little sheep, and I d
 
 62 BIRTHDAY. 
 
 have a flock, and sell em and get a great deal of 
 money." x Cathay had risen in her eagerness, and 
 stood before Mrs. Deccomb with flashing eyes. 
 
 " My dear child," said Mrs. Deccomb, gravely, 
 " which do you love best, your father and mother, 
 or your lamb ? " 
 
 Cathay stood silent a moment, and then said 
 slowly, " I love my father and mother best up, and 
 I love my Pearl best down. Pearl is my baby." 
 
 " And you would rather keep Pearl, even if it 
 does hurt your father s lame hand to work for him 
 and the rest of you ? " 
 
 " But Pearl does n t eat much ; not much more 
 than the baby, and besides, I want to work, and 
 feed him myself." 
 
 " Yes, but suppose you should sell Pearl, and 
 give your father the money, and then work be 
 sides, and instead of feeding Pearl, feed the baby. 
 Don t you see it would help your father, and his 
 poor lame hand could rest ? " 
 
 A few moments silence and Cathay said firmly, 
 "I cannot sell Pearl. He loves me. He sleeps 
 with his head in my lap. I am his mother, and he 
 is my baby. I can t let the butcher-knife go into 
 him and make him bleed. I d just as lief it 
 would stick into me, every bit." 
 
 " A kind and faithful little girl," said Mrs. Dec- 
 comb. " I in glad you are so true ; but now see :
 
 CATHAY S COSSET. 63 
 
 I will give you five dollars for Pearl, and he shall 
 not be killed, but he shall come and live with me, 
 and have plenty to eat, and Nathan and Augusta 
 shall take care of him. You may give the money 
 to your sick father, and I will look about and see 
 if I can find a place where you can work. Now 
 do you think you can give up the company of your 
 pet, you see that is all, he will be just as well 
 treated, can you do it for the sake of helping 
 your father and making him feel that his little 
 Cathay oves him ? " 
 
 It was a great struggle for Cathay, veiy great ; 
 but her grave lips presently said, " Yes, ma am." 
 
 " Very well. By and by I will send for the 
 lamb. And as you are such a brave and true 
 little girl, I think I shall be able to find a place for 
 you where you can help your father." 
 
 Mrs. Deccomb s gentle words were a great com 
 fort to Cathay, as she walked home ; but when 
 Pearl met her and rubbed his head fondly against 
 her hand and jumped and frisked for joy, her 
 heart failed her. She dropped on the grass, threw 
 her arms around him and cried. But Pearl did 
 not seem to mind her tears. He was as happy 
 as ever. " Pearl, darling, darling little Pearl, 
 you ve got to go. But I love you just the same. 
 It is n t because I don t love you, never think that 
 of your Cathay. It s because you eat so much.
 
 64 BIRTHDAY. 
 
 You don t eat too much either, darling. I like to 
 have you eat, I m sure ; but it s because poor 
 father s poor hand is sick and I can buy money 
 with you. Now, Pearl, darling, will you remem 
 ber me, my baby? Don t forget Cathay, who 
 loves you, and will think of you all the time, and 
 will say her prayers for you every night. I don t 
 give you up because I don t love you, darling, but 
 for my father to see that Cathay loves him ; and I 
 am his Pearl, and he must not see me crying, must 
 he, Pearl ? So don t cry, dear. darling, I wish 
 we were in heaven." 
 
 But Cathay dried her eyes, and told her father 
 that Pearl was going to live with Mrs. Deccomb ; 
 and when Mr. Deccomb s man came, she only gave 
 Pearl one final hug, and then walked quietly over 
 to the farm, and saw him happy with the children 
 there, and then she gave the five dollars to her 
 father, and his kisses and pleasure comforted her ; 
 but when she went to bed at night, she plunged 
 her face into the pillow, and softly cried herself to 
 sleep. Poor little Cathay ! 
 
 The March winds murmured themselves into 
 April breezes, and the gentle rain pattered down 
 on the seeds that lay sleeping in the brown earth s 
 bosom, and they awoke and peeped into the light. 
 The sun, too, met them graciously and wooed 
 them out, and the grass grew green on the hill-
 
 CATHAY S COSSET. 65 
 
 sides, and April melted into May, and Cathay s 
 birthday came. Cathay was very happy, for Mrs. 
 Deccomb had invited her to a little party, and 
 " certainly I shall see Pearl," she thought. 
 
 " Yes, you shall see Pearl," said Mrs. Deccomb, 
 when Cathay asked her. " We will all go out into 
 the fields by and by, to get some flowers, and then 
 you shall see him. You can play a little while 
 first." 
 
 Cathay thought she would much rather see 
 Pearl first, but she was too polite to say so, and 
 she began to play with Erne and Meg Mayland 
 and Gusty Deccomb and Max March and the 
 others, and became so much interested that she 
 quite forgot Pearl, till Mrs. Deccomb told them 
 to get their bonnets, for they were going after the 
 May-flowers. 
 
 " Cathay," said Meg, " I know something." 
 
 " No you don t know anything. Hush ! " said 
 Erne, pinching her. 
 
 " Yes, I do, about Cathay s lamb," persisted 
 Meg in a loud whisper. 
 
 " Yes, I know," said Cathay, " I am going to see 
 my Pearl, your Pearl, that is, but it is 
 my Pearl that I used to have." 
 
 " Yes, he s right over there," said Gusty ; " but 
 we must get the May-flowers now, because we re 
 not coming home this way, and then you know
 
 66 BIRTHDAY. 
 
 perhaps we 11 make a wreath for him, for we love 
 him almost as much as you do." 
 
 " No," said Cathay, shaking her head, " that 
 can t be." 
 
 " Perhaps Cathay does n t want anything on his 
 neck," said Erne. 
 
 " No ; I d rather have his very own neck and my 
 arms round it than anything else in the world." 
 
 " Remember Erne," said Gusty significantly, 
 " Cathay does not want anything on his neck, not 
 anything." 
 
 So they rambled on, swooping up blue and white 
 innocence by the handful, and purple violets by 
 ones and twos, hunting through the woods for the 
 trailing arbutus, guided by the sweet scent which 
 it could not hide, and filling their souls with the 
 warm spring sunshine. Presently Max said he 
 had left something at a turn of the road, and he 
 must go back ; " but Cathay," he added earnestly, 
 " there certainly is some May-flowers under these 
 leaves. You see if you can t find them before I 
 get back, and don t you stop hunting till I get 
 back, and don t you turn round! " 
 
 " No," said Cathay, too eager for the flowers to 
 feel curious about what he meant. 
 
 In about five minutes little Meg uttered a great 
 shout, and Cathay started up, and there, leaping 
 and bounding towards her, as fast as his four slen-
 
 CATHAY S COSSET. 67 
 
 der legs would let him, came Pearl, pure and white 
 and happy, just as she had left him six weeks be 
 fore, only a little fatter and fairer ; and Cathay 
 dropped on the ground in her old way, and he 
 jumped into her open arms, and rubbed his nose 
 against her face, and Cathay hugged him and 
 squeezed him in all manner of unreasonable ways, 
 as the most patient of lambs was never squeezed 
 before. But suddenly she stopped ; for round his 
 neck was a blue ribbon, and to the ribbon was 
 fastened a card, and on the card was written, 
 what do you think ? 
 
 " Dear mistress Cathay, will you have 
 
 A birthday gift of me, 
 And let a little lamb once more 
 
 Your darling baby be ? 
 For surely all such generous 
 
 And noble-hearted girls 
 Deserve to be presented with 
 
 The very best of Pearls." 
 
 Do you think Cathay said no ? 
 
 And as Mrs. Deccomb took Cathay into her own 
 house to help Hannah, of course Pearl could eat 
 as much as he pleased without robbing any one.
 
 SEVENTEENTH OF JUNE. 
 
 THE GOLDEN FLEECE. 
 
 THEODORE and Theodora, twins, found them 
 selves at home in Applethorpe, on the seven 
 teenth of June, one of the finest of summer days, 
 while all the older members of the family, and in 
 deed a large portion of the grown-up people of Ap 
 plethorpe, had gone to a neighboring city to witness 
 the laying of the cornerstone of a monument, 
 which was to be erected in memory of heroes who 
 had fallen in defence of thoir country. Theodore 
 and Theodora would have been very glad to go, 
 but as they could not they contented themselves 
 with depreciating the occasion. " I am sure it 
 will be far finer at home," said Theodora, when 
 the carriage rolled away. " "We should have to 
 hear a speech and behave properly, and we have 
 only lost the drive." 
 
 " Yes," answered Theodore, who could not quite 
 forget how charming the horses looked. 
 
 " Besides," added Theodora, " I don t care so 
 much about the seventeenth of June any way. It 
 was just fighting and fighting."
 
 THE GOLDEN FLEECE. 69 
 
 "Yes," said Theodore, doubtfully; "but they 
 fought for their country." 
 
 " I know it ; but everything was just alike. One 
 man fought with another man. If now there had 
 been anything dark and dreadful, dragons, mon 
 sters, and such things, there would be some pleas 
 ure in it. Do you know I think we live in a very 
 stupid age. Everybody that wo read about used 
 to find wonderful things, and do wonderful deeds, 
 and we just don t do anything to signify." 
 
 " Indeed we do ! " cried Theodore, his patriot 
 ism roused. Steamboats and cars and the tele 
 graph and sewing-machines and our clock that has 
 the shoemakers and blacksmiths on it. I don t be 
 lieve the little Noahs were ever waked up by such 
 a clock." 
 
 0, to be sure we have plenty of those tiresome 
 things that nobody wonders at in the least. But I 
 mean something really wonderful and splendid, like 
 Aladdin s lamp you know, discovering things, 
 
 caves full of gold and rubies, and rocs and 
 such things, and swords that stick in the rocks 
 like King Arthur s, till the right man pulls them 
 out and he is the true king, and gets his throne 
 back again, and everybody else is killed in battle, 
 
 0, and enchanters and dwarfs that turn into 
 beautiful princes and marry beautiful princesses, 
 
 and the Golden Fleece, and all that. Of course 
 I don t mean Noah and such people."
 
 70 SEVENTEENTH OF JUNE. 
 
 " I don t suppose there ever were really any such 
 people," said Theodore, thoughtfully, pulling up 
 the grass around him. 
 
 "Indeed there were, and I think, I really 
 think there are such things now, and I think I 
 know where to find them." 
 
 " Where ? " asked Theodore, amazed. 
 
 " Will you go and search for them with me ? " 
 
 " I don t believe there is any such thing." 
 
 " Maybe there is n t, but I think there is, and at 
 any rate, would it not be grand to try? Only 
 think, while they are all making speeches and 
 crowding around a monument that is n t built, we 
 shall be ADVENTUBERS going over the ocean like Sir 
 Walter Raleigh and Ponce de Leon and that Jason 
 man after the Golden Fleece ! " and Theodora 
 tossed back her brown curls, and flashed enthu 
 siasm from her blue eyes into Theodore s quieter 
 soul. " Let s go," said he. 
 
 So they ran down the avenue and off into a side- 
 path that led into the woods, till they came to a 
 beautiful little brook that bubbled and foamed 
 and rippled and rolled and murmured and sang 
 cheerily, merrily, in and out, now black under the 
 shade of trees that bent low to its plashing waves, 
 now sparkling in the June sunshine, now purling 
 among violets, now dashing against rocks, and al 
 together the wildest, quaintest little brook you
 
 THE GOLDEN FLEECE. 71 
 
 ever saw, till it fell softly and sweetly into the 
 arms of a broad pond, or lake, that lay snugly 
 tucked in among the wooded hills. 
 
 " Now," said Theodora, solemnly, " if we follow 
 the brook down to the lake and then go over the 
 other side, there is a place where you have to go 
 between two big trees, and under some more. I 
 have often seen it, and it looks dark there, and 
 I am persuaded if we go in, we shall find a stone 
 or something that leads to a cave, and if we say 
 Open sesame, or something, it will fly open, and 
 we shall go in and see all manner of beautiful 
 things, and the Golden Fleece, and any way fairies, 
 I have n t a doubt." 
 
 " But how are we to get there ? " said practical 
 Theodore, who had a way of seeing lions that 
 escaped Theodora s eyes. " "We can walk and 
 wade in the brook, but the pond " 
 
 " Walk and wade ! People don t walk and 
 wade in search of adventures. We must bring 
 the boat, of course, and this is the Mississippi 
 River, and that is the Atlantic Ocean ; and we 
 are in search of the fountain that has power to 
 quench disease and bring immortal youth." (The 
 odora was recalling her history lesson.) 
 
 The boat, which was a little one made on pur 
 pose for them, was brought out from its nook un 
 der a willow-tree. Theodore took an oar, and
 
 72 SEVENTEENTH OF JUNE. 
 
 they started on a voyage of exploration ; suddenly 
 Theodora bethought herself that they had no sail. 
 
 " Never mind," said Theodore. " It s a row-boat. 
 It does n t matter. We never have sails to it." 
 
 " We never went after the Golden Fleece be 
 fore," said his sister, with quiet majesty ; " and it 
 is n t a row-boat, make believe. It s a great 
 ship, 
 
 Its sails are all swelling, 
 Its streamers float gay 
 
 and how can its sails swell if it has n t any sails ? " 
 So she jumped out, brought a long stick, tied her 
 white apron to it, held it up at the prow, and they 
 started again. It was not very smooth sailing. 
 They kept hitting against rocks, and running 
 aground with a force that often sent them both 
 headlong ; but they only jumped up again, leaped 
 into the water, pushed the boat off, and went on 
 just as gayly as before. To be sure they became 
 thoroughly wet and draggled, but they were used 
 to it, and it did not hurt them in the least. 
 
 With red faces, arid brown arms, and melan 
 choly-looking clothes, they had almost reached the 
 pond, when they suddenly heard the barking of a 
 dog. Theodore stopped rowing and listened. " It s 
 our old Silver, and there she is ; I wonder how she 
 came here." 
 
 " I don t know, I m sure, but she must go
 
 THE GOLDEN FLEECE. 73 
 
 back the same way, for we can t stop to see to 
 her." 
 
 " But something must be the matter with her. 
 Just see how she looks and barks, and keeps run 
 ning back and forth." 
 
 " Perhaps somebody is hurt in there. That s 
 the way dogs do in books, you know. Let s go 
 and see." 
 
 " But we can t get our boat ashore over that 
 log." 
 
 " "We can take off our stockings and shoes and 
 wade. You know we shall not be in search of a 
 Golden Fleece, only after a dog." 
 
 Their dignity being thus provided for, they were 
 soon ashore, and followed Silver into the wood. 
 She ran before them with every manifestation of 
 delight, and stopped before a fallen hollow tree- 
 trunk, looked up into their faces, wagged her tail, 
 and did everything a dog could do to express her 
 opinions and wishes. A kind of purring, whining 
 noise seemed to come from inside the trunk, but a 
 large log had in some way rolled down before the 
 opening. 
 
 "I do believe there is something inside this 
 trunk," said Theodore. 
 
 " A woodchuck," suggested Theodora. 
 
 " A snake, perhaps." 
 
 " Or a deer." 
 
 4
 
 74 SEVENTEENTH OF JUNE. 
 
 " We don t have deer ; but let s see if we can t 
 get the log away and find out." 
 
 It was pretty heavy, and had fallen with so much 
 force as to bury itself in the loose earth, but their 
 united efforts at length removed it, and lo ! two 
 poor little half-blind and quite bewildered, discon 
 solate-looking puppies ! 
 
 Poor Silver s joy and gratitude knew no bounds. 
 She fondled them with all her might, stopping oc 
 casionally to caress Theodore and lick his hand, 
 her whole heart overflowing with dumb dog love 
 and gratitude. 
 
 " What shall we do with them ? " asked Theo 
 dore. " We must n t leave them here." 
 
 "No, something might happen to them again. 
 We d better take them home and feed them, and 
 they 11 be ours, and we 11 call them Theddy and 
 Tid. Yours shall be Tid and mine Theddy." 
 
 " Then when I say Tid, you won t know whether 
 I am speaking to you or a dog." 
 
 "Well, Tid Silver, then I shall know. Now 
 let s carry them home." 
 
 Theodore took them in his arms and tried to 
 carry them ; but they kept slipping, and he kept 
 stumbling, and neither was very comfortable. So 
 Theodora said she would put on her apron again, 
 and carry them in that. Then Theodore trans 
 ferred them to her, old Silver looking on mean-
 
 THE GOLDEN FLEECE. 75 
 
 while with great satisfaction. She seemed to 
 know that the children meant her children noth 
 ing but good. 
 
 It was harder going up the brook than it had 
 been coming down ; but stout hearts make stout 
 arms, and they had fastened their boat in its proper 
 place, and landed their passengers, when Theodore 
 suddenly exclaimed, " 0, Tid ! " and stopped 
 short. 
 
 " Well ? " asked Theodora, quietly. 
 
 " Where s our golden fleece ? " 
 
 " We have n t any. Only two little silver dogs. 
 That s all." 
 
 " But we were in pursuit of adventures ! " 
 
 " And have n t we found them, I should like to 
 know ? " answered Theodora, a little pettishly, for 
 she never liked to acknowledge that her ends were 
 riot gained, and accordingly generally made her 
 facts suit her theory. " Is n t it an adventure to 
 rescue poor dumb brute animals from death by 
 starvation and pain, when they would die if it 
 was n t for you, and their mother bark her throat 
 out, and die of a broken heart, and be a poor mis 
 erable orphan mother all the rest of her days, I 
 should like to know ? " 
 
 Theodore was deeply impressed by this burst of 
 eloquence, and silently gave in his adhesion to her 
 plans.
 
 76 SEVENTEENTH OF JUNE. 
 
 So their Golden Fleece turned into a pair of 
 half-starved puppies, which are not quite so grand 
 as the heroes of the seventeenth of June ; still I 
 think a kind act is worth all the Golden Fleeces 
 that ever were or were not in the world."
 
 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 MAX MARCH S WAY OF WEEPING WITH THOSE 
 WHO WEEP. 
 
 IN the village of Applethorpe was a little, old, 
 low, brown wooden school-house. In this lit 
 tle, old school-house, one bright June day, a score 
 of rosy, healthy, happy children were making the 
 old roof ring with shouts of laughter. It was 
 " noontime," that is, the hour between twelve and 
 one, which, in this school, was the time for eating 
 dinner and playing. Most of the children came 
 from a distance, and brought their dinner in little 
 tin pails. As soon as school was out at twelve, 
 there was, for a few moments, a great commo 
 tion among these tin pails, and then they were 
 ready for play. At this particular time they were 
 running wild, over, or in, the game of " Shun 
 it." You do not know what that is ? I will tell 
 you. In the first place you set up a stick of wood, 
 or anything that will stand on one end ; then, any 
 number of children join hands in a circle around 
 it, and pull " every which way and t other," as 
 one of my young friends described it to me,
 
 7 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 everybody s object being to make somebody else 
 knock the stick down, and not to knock it down 
 himself. " A rather rude kind of play ? " I beg 
 your pardon, it is not rude at all. Rough, I grant 
 you, but not rude. " You d like to know what I 
 call rude, then ? " Why, I thought you were rude 
 when you called Loo a " telltale," the other day ; 
 and Fred was rude when he saw a woman s veil 
 go flying off in the wind, and did not run after it, 
 but only stood and laughed. But a good, whole 
 some game, that makes the cheeks glow, and the 
 eyes sparkle, and the hair fly, and the voice ring, 
 and that does not excite any wicked feelings, is 
 very far from being rude. 
 
 One of the happy group of which I am speaking 
 was Quinny Ford. She was the smallest there, a 
 slight, delicate little figure. Her schoolmates tried 
 to urge her not to play, for fear she should be hurt ; 
 but she was brave and gay, and high-spirited, and 
 she wanted to do what she saw other people do. 
 "When they found she was determined to play, Max 
 March took her under his especial charge. He was 
 large, and strong, and gentle, and very fond of 
 Quinny. So she kept hold of his hand very firmly, 
 and though she was twisted and pulled about in all 
 directions, she kept her feet, till, at one violent jerk, 
 the little boy who held her other hand let it go, and 
 poor Quinny was hurled to the floor. Her leg struck
 
 MAX MARCH S WAY OF WEEPING. 79 
 
 against one of the benches, and the pain was very 
 great ; but she was afraid to cry, because she 
 thought they would blame her for playing. The 
 blood rushed up to her hair, and down into her 
 neck, but she shut her lips close, and did not cry. 
 The children stood around her, and Mas bathed 
 her leg in cold water. She begged them not to 
 tell the teacher, and presently hopped to her seat. 
 When she recited, she only had to stand up in her 
 place, which she managed to do on one foot. But 
 alas ! when school was done, and she tried to leave 
 the room, she could not put her foot to the floor. 
 Then she was so frightened that she could com 
 mand herself no longer, but burst into loud sobs 
 and cries. 
 
 " What is the matter, Quinny ? " said her teacher, 
 alarmed. 
 
 " 0, I can t walk!" sobbed Quinny, 
 and then the children told the teacher the whole 
 story. She tried to comfort the little girl, and 
 asked Max if he would go to her father s, and have 
 him come with his wagon to take Quinny home. 
 
 " 0, I m afraid to stay here alone," cried 
 Quinny. 
 
 " Well, dear, Lucy Dixon will stay with you till 
 your father conies. I would stay myself, but I 
 must take the cars to-night, and I am afraid I shall 
 be late."
 
 80 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 " Please ma am," said Max, " if you will send 
 one of the other boys for Mr. Ford, I 11 stay with 
 Quinny. Jem Hale lives close by." 
 
 So the teacher despatched Jem Hale, and sent 
 the other children home, that Quinny might be 
 more quiet, and left her and Max by themselves. 
 He sat on the floor, rubbing her leg very tenderly. 
 She had always been a little afraid of him before, 
 but she forgot it now, in her great pain, and greater 
 terror. 
 
 " 0, Max," said she, tearfully, " do you think I 
 have broken my leg ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ; because if you had there, does 
 that hurt you ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, if you had broken it, that would have 
 hurt you terribly, so you would scream right 
 out." 
 
 " Do you think I shall ever walk again ? " The 
 tone was so mournful, that Max, boy as he was, 
 felt the tears come into his own eyes, into the 
 back part of them, you know ! 
 
 " Why, yes, little Quinny ; I think you 11 walk 
 just as well as ever, in a few days. If you don t, 
 I 11 make a truckle-cart, and I 11 be your little 
 pony, and you shall drive me wherever you want to 
 go, would n t you like that ? " 
 
 Quinny smiled through her tears, but said, " I d
 
 MAX MARCH S WAY OF WEEPING. 81 
 
 rather walk " ; and presently added, as sadly as 
 ever, " And I sha n t be able to go to Fourth of 
 July ! " Another burst of tears from her very 
 heart. " 0, I wish I had n t played ! 0, I wish 
 I had done what you told me ! I shall have to 
 stay at home Fourth of July, all alone ! " 
 
 " Now, don t cry so, Quinny, don t ! Perhaps 
 you 11 be well by that time, and if you don t 
 go I 11 stay with you, and you shall be my May 
 Queen, and we 11 have a picnic, and Charlotte 
 shall come " 
 
 "No," said Quinny, more calmly, "I sha n t 
 let you lose the party for me. You are very good 
 to stay with me now, but you must n t stay then. 
 I shall try to be good. I shall have to stay at 
 home anyway, and there will be no good in crying 
 about it." 
 
 Presently, Mr. Ford came and took Quinny home. 
 The doctor was called, and he said the cords of 
 the limb were injured, and gave her mother some 
 liniment, and said she must be kept very still. 
 She did not feel ill, so it was very hard for 
 her to lie still ; but worse than that was it to 
 think that the Fourth of July was fast coming 5 
 and she could not go to the picnic. Her little 
 schoolmates came in from time to time, and they 
 were very full of their plans, and expressed very 
 loudly their sorrow that Quinny could not go. 
 
 4* V
 
 82 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 Only Max, lie said nothing about it, he had an 
 idea in his head. 
 
 The first day of July, after he had been telling 
 Quinny about matters and things at school, he bade 
 her good morning, and went down stairs, and 
 through the kitchen into the pantry, where was 
 Mrs. Ford. He stood awhile in the door-way. She 
 was working over butter, and did not see him. 
 Pat, pat, pat, went her fat hands on the fat butter, 
 and sputter, sputter, sputter, came the buttermilk 
 into Max s face ; but he did not mind it, only 
 made wry faces. 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Ford ! " said he presently. 
 
 " Bless me ! Max, is that you ? Good morn 
 ing ! I did not see you. How you scared me ! " 
 Pat, pat, pat, all the while. 
 
 " Did I ? " a short pause, " Mrs. Ford" 
 
 " Well, child ? " 
 
 " I don t suppose Quinny could go to Fourth of 
 July, could she ? " 
 
 " Poor child, no ; I m afraid she can t. I m 
 sorry, for her heart was set on it." Another 
 pause. 
 
 " She sits up all the time now, does n t she ? " 
 
 " Yes, but she has to keep her leg still. She is 
 not to use it, or move it, any more than if she were 
 lying in bed." 
 
 " But could n t she be carried there in a wagon,
 
 MAX MARCH S WAY OF WEEPING. 83 
 
 and go very slowly, and be quite still while she was 
 there ? just lie and see the others ? " 
 
 " Well, dear, perhaps she might ; but our wagon 
 is broken, and, you see, I am afraid some harm 
 would happen to her there. I can t go myself, for 
 I don t like to leave Gran ther ; and she might get 
 excited, and something might happen. I should 
 worry about her the whole time." A still longer 
 pause. Max was gathering courage. Out it came, 
 at last, 
 
 " Mrs. Ford, I hope you won t think me teasing, 
 but I have a truckle-cart, I had it made on pur 
 pose, I made part of it myself. It is very easy. 
 You can put pillows in it, and make it just as soft 
 as a bed. If I would promise to take very particu 
 lar care of her myself, all the time, would n t you 
 let her go ? " 
 
 " Well, I declare, Max March, if you a n t a real 
 kind boy ! Well, I declare, I don t know as it 
 would hurt her. She does want to go so much. 
 You re real careful, I know, and " 
 
 " 0, I 11 be so careful ! " interrupted Max, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " But, bless me ! you can t drag her all the way. 
 You re only a little boy, for all. Your body a n t 
 half so large as your heart." 
 
 " Well, three of the boys are going to help me. 
 I asked them. They said they would if you would
 
 84 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 let her go. Nat Deccomb and Rob Mayland, 
 and " 
 
 " I declare, I don t know. If she keeps on, 
 and it s pleasant Tuesday, I guess she can go. 
 But don t you say anything to her about it ; for if, 
 after all, she could n t go, she d be worse off than 
 before." 
 
 Max wanted very much to tell her " right away " ; 
 but he promised not to lisp a syllable of it, and in 
 order not to forget himself, he resolved to stay 
 away the rest of the day, and as the next day 
 was Sunday, of course he would not be there. 
 So there would be only Monday to try him. 
 
 Bright and clear rose the sun on the morning of 
 the Fourth of July. Heavy and heroic boomed the 
 one old cannon from Vineyard Hill. Merrily rang 
 the bell of the village church, and, with its early 
 peals, Max bounded over the fields, the shortest 
 way to Quinny Ford s. Mrs. F. was at the well, 
 drawing water. 
 
 " Yes, or no ? " shouted he, as soon as he was 
 within ear-shot. Mrs. Ford smiled so pleasantly 
 and cheerfully, that he knew Quinny was to go be 
 fore she answered, 
 
 " Well, I think I shall run the risk, if you 11 
 take good care of her." 
 
 " 0, good ! " cried Max, " docs she know ? "
 
 MAX MARCH S WAY OF WEEPING. 85 
 
 " No ; I thought you ought to have the pleasure 
 of telling her." 
 
 " 0, good-er ! " and he clapped his hands, and 
 darted by Mrs. Ford, but she caught him. 
 
 " Now, just look here, young man. Don t you 
 go capering into the house like a wild Indian, and 
 bounce upon her all of a sudden, and put her all in 
 a flurry, you ! " 
 
 " I 11 be just as quiet as a kitten. See, now ! " 
 and he smoothed down his face with his hands and 
 looked exceedingly sober. 
 
 Mrs. Ford laughed, and he walked away in a 
 very dignified manner. But the little fellow was so 
 happy that he stopped with his hand on the door 
 knob, and laughed to himself, all alone, as heartily 
 as could be, for very joy, or, as he afterwards told 
 his mother, " to get the laugh out of him," before 
 Quinny should see him. When he did march into 
 the room it was with a very demure face. Quinny 
 was half sitting, half lying, on a kind of lounge, and 
 looking rather sad. 
 
 " Hullo, Quinny ! " said he, gayly. 
 
 " 0, Max, I wish you a happy Fourth of July," 
 said she, trying to be gay. 
 
 " My stars ! don t I wish you one though ! 0, 
 Quinny, we re going to have such a splendid time ! 
 Want me to tell you all about it ? " 
 
 " 0, yes ! I wish you would. You never have 
 told me a word."
 
 86 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 " Well, you see," said Max, blushing and feeling 
 very warm and guilty, and twisting himself about 
 in all sorts of ways, for fear his secret should be 
 out before he was ready, " you see, Quinny, I 
 I well, I 11 tell you now. We re going to the 
 Ponds, and it s to be a children s pic-nic. There 11 
 be big folks there, but we shall have our say ; and 
 there s bushels of candy, and, me ! the plum- 
 cake and frosted cake, and one s got a great meet 
 ing-house on it, or something, that came from 
 Boston, and nuts, and oranges, and all the girls 
 are going to wear wreaths on their heads, and the 
 boys have oak-leaves on their hats, here s mine. 
 and 0, there s oceans and barrels of lemonade, 
 and we re going to play foot-ball and swing " 
 
 He stopped, fairly out of breath. Quinny s eyes 
 danced sympathetic. " And, Quinny," continued 
 he, coming nearer, and pretending to feel sorry, 
 " you know I said I would stay at home with you ; 
 but you see I did not know we were going to have 
 such times, and all the nice things, and I believe I 
 must go." 
 
 Quinny tried to say that she wished him to go, 
 but something came in her throat, and she could 
 not speak. Something came into her wistful blue 
 eyes, too, which Max saw, and he could bear it no 
 longer, but roared out, 
 
 " 0, Quinn ! you re going, too ! "
 
 MAX MARCH S WAY OF WEEPING. 87 
 
 " "W-h-a-t ? " cried Quinny, in a tone almost as 
 loud. 
 
 " You re going ! your mother said so ! We re 
 going to haul you in the truckle-cart ! I ve got 
 it ! You don t know anything about it ! Oh ! 
 Oh ! Oh ! " and Max rolled over and over on the 
 floor in a very undignified and hilarious manner. 
 I don t know how long he might have stayed there, 
 if Mrs. Ford had not come in and made him rather 
 ashamed of himself. You know he was a little 
 boy. 
 
 In due time the truckle-cart and its four happy 
 horses drove up to the house in grand style. Mrs. 
 Ford brought Quinny out, and placed her on the 
 little seat. She was so much better, that she did 
 not have to lie down ; and she did look so pretty 
 in her loose white dress, with her long, fair hair, 
 and a little straw bonnet on her head, and her 
 cheeks flushed with heat and pleasure. Max 
 placed the reins in her hand, and gave her a long 
 willow rod for a whip, and told her to use it when 
 ever they did not go fast enough ; and so, after 
 many injunctions from Mrs. Ford that she should 
 not " step a foot on the ground to walk," they 
 started. It was a long mile, up hill and down, to 
 Pleasant Pond ; but happy hearts make nimble feet, 
 and before long they saw the sparkle of its waters. 
 
 " Now, you see," said Max, drawing the carriage
 
 88 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 up to a pair of bars, and unharnessing himself to 
 take them down, " Nobody knows you re coming 
 but us ; and so we re not going the way the rest do, 
 but round through the lot, and we shall come out 
 on the other side of the hill, and then we 11 come 
 on them all of a sudden." 
 
 So, more slowly, but no less merrily, ankle-deep 
 in the yielding grass, they trudged on, talking in 
 whispers, just as if the people up in the grove were 
 not as busy as they could be with their own talking, 
 and would not have heard a coach-and-six rattling 
 over the stones. At the foot of the hill they stop 
 ped, left the carriage under an oak-tree, and two 
 of the boys formed a " lady s chair " with their 
 joined hands, to carry Quinny. But the path was 
 so narrow and uneven, that they could not get on 
 very well, and Quinny was rather alarmed and un 
 easy. 
 
 " Now, you stop a minute," said Max, "I 11 tell 
 you how to fix it. I can carry Quinny myself, as 
 nice as a button." 
 
 "0, I m afraid you re not strong enough ! " 
 cried she, " I m afraid you 11 drop me." 
 
 " No, I won t ; why, I could carry two of you, 
 just as easy as nothing." He felt very large, and 
 bold, and strong, just then ; so he gathered her up 
 in his sturdy arms, and with a very red face, and 
 very puffing cheeks, and a very stout heart, bore
 
 MAX MARCH S WAY OF WEEPING. 89 
 
 her up the hill, and right into the midst of the 
 party, and sat her down triumphantly on the 
 grass. 
 
 " Quinny Ford s come ! Quinny Ford s come ! " 
 rang from one end of the grove to the other ; for 
 Quinny was a general favorite, and, moreover, 
 they had all felt very sorry for her, because they 
 thought she would have to stay at home ; so 
 the pleasure was all the greater for being unex 
 pected. 
 
 I cannot tell you how every moment of that long, 
 summer day was full to overflowing with delight, 
 how Quinny sat on her mossy seat, like a queen on 
 her throne, how the children gathered around 
 her when tired of playing, and sometimes when 
 they were not tired, and chattered to their hearts 
 content, how all the fathers and mothers spoke 
 to her so kindly, drawn by the sweet little face, that 
 looked so happy, and grateful, and timid, how the 
 nicest cake, and candy, and oranges, were heaped 
 upon her, twice as much as she could eat, how 
 she would quite have forgotten that she was lame, 
 only Max, vibrating like a pendulum between 
 her and the players, never left her without say 
 ing, " Now, Quinny, you mind. Don t you stir a 
 step ! " and though she always answered, " No, I 
 won t," and though when he came back he found 
 her in the same place, it did not make a bit of dif-
 
 90 FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 ference. He seemed to think it was the only way 
 he could fulfil his promise to her mother, so he 
 said every time just the same, "Now, Quinny, 
 don t you stir ! "
 
 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 
 
 THE SPOILED DINNER. 
 
 I know something ! I know something ! " 
 exclaimed little Meg Mayland, skipping 
 into the sitting-room one morning. 
 
 " The dickens you do ! " said Martial, throwing 
 back his head in mock astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, I do, and you don t." 
 
 " My dear child," continued Martial, with an 
 assumption of the gravest dignity, " it is quite 
 preposterous to suppose that a person of your years 
 and acknowledged character should be the recep 
 tacle of profound and important secrets ; con 
 sequently, if you do know anything, it is your 
 bounden duty to divulge. Comprenez vous?" 
 
 " I know something, and you don t," repeated 
 Meg, utterly unable to understand the drift of 
 Martial s remark, and wisely falling back on what 
 was within the sphere of her comprehension. 
 
 " Meg," said Erne, looking up from her draw 
 ing, " Martial wants you to tell him what it is, 
 that s all. Tell us, there s a dear."
 
 92 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 
 
 " No, a n t going to tell." 
 
 "You a n t, eh? Look here, young woman 
 don t be in a hurry hoity-toity not quite so 
 fast " ; for Martial had caught the two little wrists, 
 and twisted his feet round the two little legs, and 
 Meg struggled manfully to get away. 
 
 " No, I sha n t tell you. Mamma told me not." 
 
 " And how came she to confide in you, pray ? " 
 
 " 0, I was behind the window-curtain, and she 
 did not know it, and " 
 
 " Eaves-dropping ! " 
 
 " No, I was n t dropping eaves either ; but she 
 came in, and I heard her tell Agnes ; and she said, 
 Don t tell the children, because if anything hap 
 pens we sha n t go ; and I came out, and there I 
 was, and I asked mamma what it was, and she 
 said, 0, you little a n t-good-for-anything ! how 
 came you here ? and I said I could n t help it, 
 and she said, Well, then, I must n t tell youj and 
 I said no indeed I would n t, and then she told me 
 perhaps we would all go to grandpapa s to spend 
 Christmas, if Aunt Ellen is well enough ; and you 
 are not going to be told till just the day before, 
 and I a n t going to tell you either me ! I 
 have told ! me ! what will mamma say to me ? " 
 and poor Meg stopped aghast, suddenly conscious 
 that she had told the very secret over which she 
 had been so loudly exulting.
 
 THE SPOILED DINNER. 93 
 
 Martial and Erne laughed, but it was no laugh 
 ing matter with Meg. 
 
 " Do you think mamma will be very angry ? " 
 said she tremulously. " What do you suppose she 
 will do ? " 
 
 " 0, nothing more than make you stay at home 
 Christmas, when we go to grandpapa s, or some 
 thing of that sort." 
 
 " 0, pshaw ! Martial," said Erne, " you sha n t 
 torment her so. It s no such thing, Meg, she " 
 But their mother came in at that moment, and 
 Martial began to jump up and down, imitating 
 Meg, and crying " mamma ! such a great secret ; 
 we re going to grandpapa s, Christmas, and none 
 of us know anything about it but Meg." Meg 
 looked on, anything but amused, with sorrowful 
 tears in her brown eyes. 
 
 " I did n t mean to tell, mamma ; I did n t know 
 I told till till I had told." 
 
 Her mother laughed. " Never mind, dear, now. 
 You cannot untell it, so we will make the best 
 of it." 
 
 " Mamma ? " 
 
 " Well, dear ? " 
 
 " I sha n t have to stay at home when the rest 
 go ? " Meg was crying outright. 
 
 " Stay at home ! No, indeed ; what for, pray ? " 
 
 "Martial said so, perhaps."
 
 94 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 
 
 " 0, nonsense ! Martial shall have his ears boxed, 
 and you shall do it ; there, run now and box them 
 soundly. You did n t mean to disobey mamma, I 
 know " ; and Meg, overjoyed, jumped at Martial s 
 ears, and he kept her off, and Erne ran to help her, 
 and I don t know how it did turn out at last. 
 
 It was a merry gathering at the old home-farm 
 on Christmas Eve. There were grandpapa and 
 grandmamma, so glad to see them, and Uncle James 
 and Aunt Matty, with their baby ; and Aunt Carry, 
 with her pale face and black dress, yet gentle and 
 happy, and her only child, Jarvis, dressed very 
 nicely ; and there were Uncle Israel and Aunt 
 Mary, with five sturdy boys ; and Uncle Sinclair 
 and his two children, Henrietta and Samuel ; and 
 Uncle Arthur with no child at all. Aunt Ellen 
 was there, to be sure, but she lived there all the 
 time, so I do not reckon her as company ; but 
 there was another person who did not live there 
 all the time, and who was neither aunt, nor uncle, 
 nor cousin to any one of them, but who still seemed 
 to be very much interested in the family. He was 
 called Mr. Ferguson. The children were rather 
 bashful at first, and sat still, and at length went to 
 bed very quietly ; but the next day they made ac 
 quaintance rapidly. 
 
 " Aunt Ellen," said little Meg, as she sat on the 
 arm of the sofa, combing her aunt s hair, " Is Mr. 
 Ferguson my uncle ? "
 
 THE SPOILED DINNER. 95 
 
 " No, dear," said she, laughing. 
 
 " He is n t my aunt, is he ? " 
 
 " Not a bit " 
 
 " Well, I don t see what he is here for, then." 
 
 " Why, don t you like him ? " 
 
 " yes, I like him ; but we are uncles and 
 aunts here, and he is n t." 
 
 " Are you my uncle and aunt ? " 
 
 " no, but he is n t." 
 
 "All in good time," called out Mr. Ferguson, 
 from the next room. Meg had not noticed that 
 the door was open, and she was quite abashed at 
 his merry laugh. 
 
 " I m going to kiss you," said he, coming to 
 wards her. Meg drew back. 
 
 " What ! don t you like to kiss ? " Meg shook 
 her head. 
 
 " But I saw you kiss Aunt Ellen twice this morn 
 ing." 
 
 " 0," said Meg, " I kiss womans, but I don t 
 kiss mans," and she jumped down and ran away. 
 
 When they came home from church, the next 
 day, grandmamma called all the children round 
 her and said : " Young people, I have a plan to 
 propose. You know at the breakfast-table this 
 morning we were very much crowded. How 
 should you like to have a table set for you sepa 
 rately, in the kitchen ? "
 
 96 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 
 
 " Eat all alone, by ourselves ? " said Erne. 
 
 " Yes, dear." 
 
 " But have turkey, and pudding, and cranberry- 
 tart, just the same as the grown-up people ? " said 
 rosy-cheeked Joe. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, a whole turkey, all your own, and 
 a pudding made expressly for you, and something 
 else too." 
 
 " 0, I should like it, I should like it ! " they 
 cried, all but Miss Henrietta Sinclair, who seemed 
 extremely dissatisfied with the arrangement, she 
 thought herself, at fifteen, quite too old to be 
 classed with children in that way. 
 
 " I am sure, grandmamma, the children might 
 have a side table, and the rest of us all sit together. 
 It will be so disagreeable to eat dinner with nobody 
 to take care of so many boys." 
 
 " If you prefer to sit at my table, my dear, I am 
 quite willing you should." 
 
 " I am sure I do prefer it." 
 
 " If Henrietta does, I will," said Samuel. 
 
 " If you please," said grandmamma, calmly. 
 Samuel blushed. 
 
 " But can t I ? " 
 
 " Certainly, there will be room for you two, 
 does any other one wish to sit at my table ? " But 
 no one did, so they were dismissed. 
 
 " I wish you would eat with us," said Erne, " it 
 is so much nicer."
 
 THE SPOILED DINNER. 97 
 
 Erne rather looked up to Henrietta, and ad 
 dressed her with considerable deference. 
 
 " I don t think it is nicer," said Henrietta, toss 
 ing her head. " I am not used to living with chil 
 dren, and servants, and eating in the kitchen." 
 
 " I dare say grandmamma s kitchen is as good 
 as your dining-room," exclaimed Cousin Gerry, 
 who was indignant at Henrietta s sneer. Erne was 
 shocked. 
 
 " You don t know anything about it," answered 
 Henrietta. " You never were at our house in your 
 life. We have an elegant carpet in our dining- 
 room, and arm-chairs, and a sideboard, and every 
 thing, and you say that it is no better than this 
 country kitchen." 
 
 " Well, it is n t," said Gerry, sturdily, " nor half 
 so good. I d rather have grandpapa s sunshine 
 than all your fine things. Mamma said your din 
 ing-room was as gloomy as a prison, and as cold as 
 a barn." 
 
 " Gerry, you re crazy," was all the reply Hen 
 rietta deigned to make. 
 
 " And that is n t the worst of it," continued 
 Samuel, " for if we drop a crumb, Laman makes 
 such a fuss, you can t think." 
 
 " Who is Lainan ? " asked Ephraim. 
 
 " She s a horrid old scrag that takes care of us 
 and worries us to death, only Hen. has grown up
 
 98 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 
 
 out of her reach a little, and she can t tyrannize 
 over her so much, and so she makes up on me ; 
 but I play her a trick once in a while." 
 
 " But I should n t think you would want to 
 sit at the grown-up table," said Martial. " Why 
 don t you come with us ? " 
 
 " Of course I shall ; I only wanted to bother 
 Hen., because she hates to have me tagging round 
 after her." 
 
 " I 11 just tell you how it is," said Henrietta, 
 who considered Martial the only one whose age 
 and attainments made his opinion of any value : 
 " If I ever take Sam to a party, or ever a gentle 
 man calls on me, Sam is sure to remember every 
 thing I say or do, and then make fun of it after 
 wards ; so I tell papa it s more than it s worth to 
 have him about." 
 
 Sam laughed heartily, but did not consider it 
 worth while to deny the assertion. Their conversa 
 tion was interrupted by the dinner-bell, and with a 
 deal of bustle, and talking, and laughing, and 
 hustling of chairs, they took their places. 
 
 " Who s going to sit at the head of the table ? " 
 called Martial. 
 
 "Erne Mayland, of course." 
 
 " No," said Aunt Mary, " Henrietta is the old 
 est, and she must have the seat of honor." 
 
 " She is n t coming," cried Gerry, " she is a 
 young lady, she can t eat in the kitchen."
 
 THE SPOILED DINNER. 99 
 
 " Gerry, Gerry," said his mother, reprovingly, 
 but she went into the dining-room and found Hen 
 rietta. 
 
 " What is this dear ? " said she, kindly, " don t 
 you want to eat with the rest of the children ? " 
 
 "Yes, of course she does," said her father, be 
 fore Henrietta had time to speak. 
 
 " No, sir, I don t, I would rather eat with grand 
 mamma." 
 
 "Nonsense, go along with the rest, my child." 
 
 " She thinks she s too old," cried Sam, from the 
 door-way. 
 
 " Too old ! bless the child ! " murmured grand 
 papa, patting her neck. 
 
 Henrietta did not move till her father gave her 
 a look, which was not to be misunderstood, and 
 then, with tears of vexation in her eyes, she walked 
 slowly out. 
 
 "Had to come, didn t you?" whispered Sam, 
 provokingly. 
 
 " Stop," cried she, with rising anger, but Sam 
 hummed quite audibly, 
 
 " Mamma, will you please to spread 
 A little sugar ou my bread ? 
 And mamma, dearest, if you please, 
 To cut a little bit of cheese. 
 I m grown too old now to be carried ; 
 To-morrow, ma, may n t I be married ? "
 
 100 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 
 
 It was very exasperating in Sam, but it scarcely 
 justified the stinging and very unlady-like blow, 
 which made his ears tingle and burn for several 
 minutes. 
 
 As soon as Henrietta came out, Erne left her 
 seat at the head of the table to give it to Henri 
 etta, and Martial left his at the foot and proceeded, 
 with a very flourishing bow and great formality of 
 manner, to conduct her to her seat, but Henrietta 
 snatched her hand away, and would neither be 
 conducted nor consoled. 
 
 " Do sit here," said Erne, timidly. 
 
 " I won t," was the sole reply, and she dropped 
 into a vacant chair. 
 
 Martial stood still a moment, gave the lowest 
 little bit of a prolonged whistle, and resumed his 
 seat. 
 
 " Snubbed ! " whispered Sam. 
 
 " Snubbed ! " reiterated Martial. 
 
 Erne reluctantly took her place again, and Hen 
 rietta began to pout. 
 
 The turkey was contemplated with rapture. 
 " It s our whole turkey," exclaimed Meg, clapping 
 her chubby hands. 
 
 " Do sit still, and not poke your hands in my 
 face," snapped Henrietta. Meg looked exceeding 
 ly sober for five minutes. 
 
 " I know where this cranberry-sauce came from, 
 said Ephraim, don t you, Merrill ? "
 
 THE SPOILED DINNER. 101 
 
 " Down in our meadows, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes, don t you remember. 0, Martial, you 
 ought to have been there, we got into a ditch 
 and got wet and muddy up to our knees." 
 
 " Rather be here," said Martial, succinctly, help 
 ing himself to another spoonful of the sauce. 
 " Better picking cranberries with a spoon from a 
 bowl than with fingers from a ditch." 
 
 " They are luscious," said Sam, smacking his 
 lips, " and they are splendid to color with." 
 
 " I know something else they are good for, too," 
 said Ephraim, looking up from a turkey-wing. 
 
 " Tarts ? " suggested Sam. 
 
 " Pies ? " queried Martial. 
 
 " Worse than that," replied Ephraim. 
 
 "Worse!" cried Jerry. I don t call that bad, 
 in the first place." 
 
 " I guess you d call this bad, and worse, too, if 
 you had em." 
 
 " What is it, then ? Tell." 
 
 " Give it up ? " 
 
 " Yes. Too much trouble to think when there s 
 important business on hand." 
 
 " Corns ! " 
 
 " Whew ! " murmured Martial, only half sup 
 pressing a laugh. 
 
 "Fact," continued Ephraim, unconcernedly. 
 " Ma had em and put em on, and they drew em 
 out like a yoke of oxen."
 
 102 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 
 
 " You vulgar boy ! exclaimed Henrietta, attempt 
 ing to look daggers at her cousin. It was the first 
 remark she had made since she sat down. Poor 
 Epliraim was quite unconscious of having said any 
 thing improper, and he blushed to the very roots 
 of his hair. 
 
 " Go it Hen-pen ! " sung out Sam, " nail your 
 colors to the mast, and give it to em." 
 
 "0, Sam, please don t," begged Erne. "Nev 
 er mind Ephraim. He did n t mean any harm, you 
 know," she whispered to Henrietta. 
 
 " I don t care what he meant," muttered that 
 amiable young lady, but loud enough to be heard 
 around the whole table. " He s a brute, and not 
 fit to be seen with decent people ! " 
 
 " Et tu brute!" whispered Martial, but not loud 
 enough to be heard, except by the two or three in 
 his immediate vicinity, who, however, set up a pri 
 vate giggle,- to the discomposure of Erne, who 
 feared lest it should annoy Henrietta. The poor 
 child was already beginning to find her honors 
 rather burdensome. 
 
 " It is n t polite to whisper in company," said 
 she, smilingly. 
 
 "It is n t fashionable to be polite here," an 
 swered Gerry. 
 
 " 0, Meg, do sit still ! you are spilling your din 
 ner all over my dress," jerked Henrietta again. 
 Meg looked deprecatingly at Erne.
 
 THE SPOILED DINNER. 103 
 
 " Maggy, dear, go sit by Martial, and let Frank 
 take your place, lie is so quiet." 
 
 " Yes, I will," said Meg, with great alacrity, and 
 she jumped down from her high chair, plate in 
 hand, spilling the mashed potatoes and sauce in 
 discriminately on the carpet and Henrietta s dress. 
 
 " Goodness me ! " cried she, " what a mess ! 
 what a confusion ! Erne, if you re going to sit at 
 the head of the table and govern a parcel of chil 
 dren, why can t you do it, and not have them run 
 ning around like cats and dogs ? " 
 
 " Better run round like cats and dogs than fight 
 like them," retorted Martial. His flashing eyes 
 met those of Henrietta, with no love in them. He 
 was extremely fond of his sisters, though he loved 
 to tease them a little, and Erne s painfully burning 
 cheeks and downcast eyes roused his indignation 
 to the damage of his reputation for politeness. 
 
 Little Meg edged in her chair by him and whis 
 pered confidentially, " I think cousin Henrietta is 
 cross." 
 
 " I think cousin Henrietta is a bear," responded 
 Martial, " a prowling, white Polar bear." This 
 made Meg laugh. 
 
 " What are you laughing at ? " said Samuel. 
 
 Meg looked half frightened at Martial. 
 
 " Only a little pleasant conversation between 
 ourselves," replied he.
 
 104 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 
 
 " I am glad there is anything pleasant at this 
 table." 
 
 " I ve asked John twice for the bread," spoke 
 Henrietta again, " and now he has chosen to go 
 into the dining-room and I have n t got it yet. I 
 should think if we had to cat in the kitchen, we 
 might have a servant to wait on us." 
 
 " 0, 1 11 get it for you," cried Erne, delighted to 
 please her cousin, and she jumped up at once and 
 brought the bread. 
 
 "Why, what are you thinking of?" exclaimed 
 Henrietta. " At the head of the table and passing 
 the bread ! Do you mean to be lady of the house 
 and waiter too, or don t you have any servants at 
 home ? " 
 
 "I John is gone " faltered Erne. Hen 
 rietta helped herself to a generous slice of bread, 
 and gradually ate herself into a better humor ; but 
 the cloud which had gathered over the merry com 
 pany could not be dispersed. Sam tried to joke, 
 and Gerry laughed, but Martial was angry, and 
 Ephraim uncomfortable, and Erne entirely dis 
 heartened, and even Meg had been so " snubbed," 
 as Sam would have said, that her prattling tongue 
 was still. Henrietta would have talked and 
 laughed, after she had thrown off her fit of ill- 
 humor, for she was naturally gay and lively, but 
 there was no response to her sallies.
 
 THE SPOILED DINNER. 105 
 
 The " something else " which grandmamma 
 spoke of was a set of cranberry tarts, one for each 
 child, on which he found the initials of his own 
 name. This seemed to revive their drooping spir 
 its, and they examined each other s tarts with con 
 siderable interest ; but again poor little ill-starred 
 Meg, in running round to Erne to show her " very 
 own pie," caught her foot in Henrietta s dress and 
 fell. She was not hurt in the least, and did not 
 injure the dress, and as Henrietta was no longer 
 sullen, she had no intention of scolding her, and 
 did not speak a cross word ; but Hog, judging from 
 the past, expected a volley, and so she anticipated 
 it by setting up a prodigious shriek and cry, which 
 brought their elders from the dining-room, and 
 broke up the dinner party in disorder. 
 
 Mrs. Mayland carried Meg to her own room and 
 soothed her, and Martial and Erne soon followed. 
 
 Her mother noticed Erne s disturbed face, and 
 inquired if anything had gone wrong. 
 
 "No, mamma only that is " and Erne 
 broke down and cried in right good earnest, which 
 set Meg off again. Her mother began to be 
 alarmed, but Martial told her it was " only that 
 hateful Henrietta Sinclair, that spoiled every 
 thing," and he gave a detailed account of the 
 affair. She palliated Henrietta s fault as much as 
 possible, telling him how her mamma had died 
 
 5*
 
 106 THANKSGIVING-DAY. 
 
 svhen Sam was a baby, and she had been left to the 
 care of hired nurses, because her papa was unwill 
 ing to have her leave him, till Martial was molli 
 fied, and even pitied Henrietta, and Erne said she 
 should never feel so unhappy about it again. 
 
 Children, you see it is quite possible for a turkey 
 to be very well dressed, and puddings perfectly 
 done, and pies just what they should be, and yet 
 a little ill-humor may make of it all A SPOILED 
 DINNER.
 
 FOREFATHERS DAY. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 " ~\T T HAT are all these pins stuck into the 
 VV back of the sofa for?" lazily inquired 
 Gerry Varse, as he lay swinging his legs over the 
 arm of the sofa, kicking his heels against it, and in 
 various ways illustrating the truth of the " divine 
 Watts" "For Satan," &c. (assuming that what 
 is true of hands is equally true of heels.) 
 
 " Let them alone, sir ! " thundered Martial, with 
 more strength of lungs than his pale face seemed 
 to indicate. He was just recovering from severe 
 illness, and the color had not yet come back into 
 his cheeks. 
 
 "You need n t cry before you re hurt," an 
 swered Gerry. " A cat may look upon a king ; 
 and I don t suppose my looking at them will take 
 off the heads of your pins." 
 
 " Your handling them will. You re always 
 pulling things to pieces. Get off the sofa, now, I 
 want to come there." 
 
 " 0, pshaw ! Possession is nine points of the 
 law."
 
 108 FOREFATHERS DAY. 
 
 " Is it ? well, there now ! " and by a dexterous 
 manoeuvre, without any great exertion, Martial 
 succeeded in landing Gerry on the carpet, and took 
 the sofa himself. " You see," he remarked, with a 
 metaphysical air, " possession may be nine points 
 of the law, but so long as it is n t the tenth, your 
 position is un-ten-able." 
 
 " you coward ! " said Gerry, good-humoredly, 
 "you reckon on your weakness. You know I 
 won t attack you, because you are sick ; so you do 
 anything. But I have a good long list of accounts 
 scored up against you get well." 
 
 " Most likely you 11 get scoured yourself, when I 
 get well ; but see, here is a regular pitched battle. 
 You know, Napoleon used to fight with pins, so, 
 why should n t I ? " 
 
 At the word " battle," their little cousin Jarvis, 
 from New York, who was visiting them, jumped up 
 from the floor, and ran to see what was going on. 
 
 " Who is the pitched battle ? " he asked eagerly. 
 
 " Who? you little muff, look here; don t 
 you see ? Here it is, the battle of the pins. 
 These red-heads are the British, I stuck em with 
 sealing-wax ; and the bright ones are the American 
 officers ; and the crooked ones, and the no-headed 
 and brassy-looking things, and the black ones, 
 those are the rank and file of the American army, 
 the bone and sinews of our land, sir ; the bulwarks
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 109 
 
 of liberty, sir, who will fight to the last drop of 
 their blood, 
 
 Fight till the last armed foe expires, 
 Fight for your altars and your fires, 
 Fight for the green graves of your sires, 
 God and your native land ! 
 
 " SIR ! " 
 
 Jarvis gazed with saucer eyes, open mouth, and 
 sympathetic, moving lips, and did not at all under 
 stand Gerry s merry laugh. 
 
 " Martial Mayland in a state of patriotism ! 
 Vive le Mayland ! " and he tossed little Jarvis as 
 high as avoirdupois would permit fourteen years 
 to do. 
 
 " Tell me all about it," said Jarvis, when Gerry 
 had subsided. " I do like to hear about wars and 
 battles." 
 
 " Well, small boy, you know what day it is." 
 
 " Yes, it s Tuesday or Wednesday, I " 
 
 " No, no ; it s neither Tuesday nor Wednesday, 
 nor any other day but Forefathers Day, before 
 which Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and all common 
 place days i pale their ineffectual fires, eh ? " 
 
 " Now you know all about it," interposed Gerry. 
 " No ? what a heathen ! Then I must enlighten 
 you. Come here, where nobody can hear us " ; 
 and in a loud whisper he began : " A great many 
 years ago "
 
 110 FOREFATHERS DAY. 
 
 " Yes," whispered Jarvis, just as loud, " that s 
 the way I like to have stories begin." 
 
 " Keep still, then, or that s the way my story 
 will end. A great many years ago, as the crow 
 flies, it is a dreadful motto. It makes you feel 
 all over. It has no more expression on me than a 
 toad wants a tadpole, every bit and grain. Moral : 
 Cabbages is not good for ginnipigs. Vide R. 
 Bazalgette." 
 
 Jarvis s face was absolutely comical, in its intense 
 wonder. 
 
 " Now, little cousin," said Martial, " he s mak 
 ing game of you. You know me! You know I 
 am as true as steel, and never look one way and 
 talk another. Just come here, young shuttlecock, 
 and I 11 tell you a true story which shall make 
 your hair stand on end." 
 
 Jarvis went back rather ruefully, and took a 
 cricket. " Now let it be real true," said he, " and 
 about a battle." 
 
 " If there s to be fighting, I m in for it," ex 
 claimed Gerry, and he drew his rocking-chair so 
 that he could put his feet on the sofa, and give 
 Martial an occasional admonitory nudge. " All 
 ready! fire away, Historian of the Nineteenth 
 Century." 
 
 " A great many years ago " 
 
 " 0, that s the way Gerry s began," whined Jar- 
 vis.
 
 THE ARGUMENT. Ill 
 
 " And did n t you say you liked it ? " demanded 
 Gerry, fiercely. 
 
 " Yes, but but I don t want another just 
 like it so soon." 
 
 " Hold still, and I 11 branch off directly. A 
 great many years ago, when there was nobody here 
 but Indians " 
 
 " Here, in this house ? " 
 
 " No, there was no house here, and nothing but 
 trees, and Indians, and wild bears, and catamounts, 
 and such things. The king and folks in England 
 got so bad that they could n t stand it." 
 
 " What did they do ? " 
 
 " Just what I am going to tell you, if you 11 hold 
 jour tongue long enough. They came over here." 
 
 " No ; but I mean what did the king do that was 
 so bad ? " 
 
 " 0, he oppressed the people, and imprisoned 
 them, and and trained on like sixty. Enlarge 
 a little on that point, Gerry." 
 
 " Why," continued Gerry, taking up the parable, 
 " things had been running down hill generally, a 
 good while. Hullo ! we re having an audience," 
 for Erne and Meg had come in to play, but 
 growing interested, came and " squatted " on the 
 floor, instead. " Well, I trust I shall be found 
 adequate to the emergency. Well, as I said, things 
 had been running down hill a good while. The
 
 112 FOREFATHERS DAY. 
 
 king and his party wanted to get all the power on 
 their side, and the people wanted to get the power 
 on their side, and so they went at it, shovel and 
 tongs." 
 
 " They did n t fight with shovel and tongs ? " 
 said Jarvis, incredulously. 
 
 " Figuratively," nodded Gerry. 
 
 " How is that ? " persisted Jarvis. 
 
 " Not at all," answered Erne. 
 
 " Did n t they fight at all ? " turning to Martial, 
 as a last resort. 
 
 " Fight ? Yes, fought like inad ! " rejoined 
 Gerry. 
 
 " Now, Martial, I wish you would do the telling," 
 said Erne, " and Gerry, keep still ; I can t make 
 out one thing or another, by him, that is, I can, 
 but Jarvis can t, nor Meg. They can t take him 
 as I can." 
 
 " Well, I will ; keep still, Gerry, now. You see 
 there had been a struggle a long while. It was n t 
 all of a sudden. It had come down from the middle 
 ages, and the end ages too, for aught I know, only 
 it came to a head then." 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 " Why, in the time of Charles the First, or along 
 there." That was two hundred years ago, more or 
 less, it does n t matter much, any way. You 
 see, the king kept pulling his way, and the people
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 113 
 
 their way, till finally all the good ones said they 
 would n t stand it any longer, and they came off to 
 America." 
 
 " 0, what a whopper ! " sighed Gerry. 
 " Hullo ! what s the matter now ? " 
 " All the good people came to America ! " 
 " Well, did n t they ? all the best ? " 
 " No, indeed, they did n t. Just as good people 
 stayed behind as those that came over. I tell 
 you what it is, / think there s a great deal more 
 fuss made about our forefathers than they de 
 serve." 
 
 " Gerry ! " exclaimed Erne, shocked. 
 " Yes, I do. Hang me, and draw me, and quar 
 ter me, if you like ; I 11 stick to it. Why, just see, 
 now, which deserves the most credit, a man who 
 takes his money and runs when he sees his house 
 on fire, or a man who stays and tries to get his 
 father and mother safe, and put out the fire, and 
 not get the house burnt, or, at any rate, save the 
 barn?" 
 
 " Well, but suppose you can t put the fire out, 
 and the more you try to do it the more other people 
 blow it, and put the wood on, what then ? " 
 " Then you ought to work all the harder." 
 " I say, if you were in a country, and a strong 
 party was against you, and you could n t do what 
 was right, and had to be no better than a slave, I
 
 114 FOREFATHERS DAY. 
 
 say, if you can get off anywhere where you can 
 have your own way, you ought to go." 
 
 " And I say that it s right down selfish in any 
 body to clear out and just look after themselves, 
 and let all the rest stay behind and take it." 
 
 " But could n t the rest have gone too, if they 
 had chosen, I should like to know ?" 
 
 " But that is n t the way to benefit your country. 
 The wickeder she is, the more you ought to stay 
 and help her through." 
 
 " Lot did n t, any way." 
 
 "Hang Lot!" 
 
 " Why, Gerry ! " exclaimed Erne, " are n t you 
 ashamed ? You sha n t talk so, I 11 tell mother." 
 
 " He s run aground, you see," laughed Martial. 
 " He can t say anything else, so he says that." 
 
 " I m not run aground, either ; but you go 
 bringing up Lot ; and what s he, or any of those 
 fellows, that lived nobody knows when, to do with 
 it? The case is entirely different. He had an 
 angel sent straight to him expressly, and we have 
 to go by our own judgment." 
 
 " Well, you 11 confess this, that if our forefathers 
 had n t come over, we should n t have had this 
 nation." 
 
 " No, I don t confess any such thing. If they 
 had stayed at home, and helped steer the ship 
 through the breakers, she might have come out
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 115 
 
 fair and square, and England have been a great 
 deal freer and better off than she is now ; though, 
 to be sure, she is well enough off now. And then, 
 when she began to be overfull, people might have 
 come over here in peace, and founded this nation, 
 and never had any Revolution." 
 
 " I don t believe a word of it," said Martial. 
 
 " Neither do I," said Erne "I have read his 
 tory, and it always says that our forefathers were 
 noble, and heroes, to come over here in the cold 
 winter, and leave home and everything to found a 
 nation that could be free, and leave it to their chil 
 dren ; and I don t believe you know more than the 
 histories." 
 
 " You little goose ! I don t say I do, and I don t 
 say they were n t noble, and heroes ; but I say they 
 would have been nobler, and greater heroes, if they 
 had stayed at home, and fought it out there, and 
 made their own country free, and helped their 
 countrymen, instead of running away, and setting 
 up for themselves, and leaving the rest in the 
 lurch." 
 
 " I don t believe it," persisted Erne. 
 
 " You need n t believe it," replied Gerry, a little 
 nettled, " I did n t say you were to believe it." 
 
 " If they had run away at the first blow," said 
 Martial, " it would have been different ; but they 
 stayed as long as they thought there was any good
 
 116 FOEEFATHEKS DAY. 
 
 in staying, and then they carne off, and none too 
 soon. They thought the truth, and freedom, and 
 all that, was going to die, and they determined to 
 bring it here, and keep it alive, if they could." 
 
 " You see it did n t die in England, though, even 
 after they left it." 
 
 " Did they come all alone ? " asked little Jarvis, 
 to whom the long discussion was rather unin 
 teresting. 
 
 " All alone ? Why, they came all together, in a 
 ship." 
 
 " I should think they would have been afraid, 
 only four of em." 
 
 " Four ? Who said there were four ? " 
 
 " You said so. You said four of our fathers 
 came over in a ship." 
 
 " Four of our fathers ! me ! four of our 
 fathers ! " and all the children set up a shout that 
 quite disconcerted Jarvis. 
 
 "You did say so!" said he, stoutly, "you 
 said four of our fathers fought like mad." 
 
 There was another burst of laughter, but Erne 
 came to the rescue. " Forefathers, f-o-r-e-fa- 
 thers, not f-o-u-r. It means that they came over 
 first, before anybody else, I suppose. But, dear 
 me ! there were more than four ! there were a 
 hundred, were n t there, came over first ? a 
 hundred and one in the Mayflower, that was
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 117 
 
 the name of the vessel. Come, now, we won t 
 laugh at you again, Jarvis. Go on with your 
 story, Erne." 
 
 " Where was I ? " 
 
 " Somewhere about their coming over." 
 
 " 0, yes ! Well, they came over, any way, right 
 or wrong, right, I think, and had a horrid time, 
 what with the captain, and the vessel, and the 
 storm, and the " 
 
 " What was it all ? " interrupted Jarvis. 
 
 " Why, the captain would n t take them where 
 they wanted to go, and the vessel sprung a leak, 
 and they had to go back, and me ! there was no 
 end of trouble." 
 
 " Shows they d no business to come," muttered 
 Gerry. 
 
 " But they succeeded splendidly, after all ; so 
 that shows they had business to come. And they 
 got here the twenty-second of December, and it 
 was cold as a barn, and nobody expecting them, 
 and nothing ready, nor anything, and they had a 
 right hard time of it, and that s Forefathers Day." 
 
 " What is Forefathers Day ? " queried Erne, 
 mischievously, " the hard time they had ? " 
 
 " Don t you set up to joke ! " and Martial shook 
 his fist at her. 
 
 " That is n t all ? " said Jarvis. 
 
 " That s all of any account," answered Martial,
 
 118 FOREFATHERS -DAY. 
 
 " I don t call that any story at all," pouted the 
 disappointed little fellow. 
 
 " You ungrateful young rascal ! " 
 
 " Why, there is n t any battle ; and where s all 
 those pins ? " 
 
 " 0, that did n t come till afterwards. I can t 
 tell you about that now, I m tired." 
 
 " I don t care anything about old Forefathers 
 Day," muttered Jarvis, who was in an ill-humor. 
 
 " Of course you don t," said Gerry ; " you don t 
 know anything about it. Never dealt in the ar 
 ticle. Don t know what the feeling is. Never had 
 a forefather. You re nothing but a Bauer-kraut 
 Dutchman." 
 
 " I aint a Dutchman, either." 
 
 " Yes, you are a Dutchman, without any fore 
 fathers. None but New-Englanders have fore 
 fathers : so they re hopping mad when we talk 
 about ours. Poor little fellow ! Come, now, I 11 
 tell you what I 11 do. You want a battle ; so I 11 
 give you a real one, a pitched battle with snow 
 balls. I 11 lead the anti-Puritans. I think they 
 ought to have stayed at home ; Martial thinks they 
 ought to have come. All on my side, come over 
 here. All on his side, go to him." 
 
 " I in on his side," said Erne. 
 
 " So am I," said Meg, who always did what 
 Erne did.
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 119 
 
 " So am I," chimed in Jarvis, who chose to be 
 on the strongest side. 
 
 " Right is in the minority, as usual," said Gerry. 
 " Now, Martial, you can t go out ; so you must 
 watch at the window, and let Erne be Vice-General, 
 and I 11 beat her and her forces single-handed, and 
 we 11 soon see whether four of our fathers would n t 
 better have stayed at home." 
 
 But I think it would have been very difficult to 
 decide that question by the winning side, for all 
 four of them were soon down in the snow, rolling 
 over and over, cramming the snow down each 
 other s nocks, in all sorts of fair and unfair ways, 
 laughing, shouting, and screaming, to their hearts 
 content.
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 
 
 " T DON T care if you have got up to the head. 
 
 X You d better have stayed where you were, for 
 then the great patch on your elbow would not 
 show, and now everybody has a good square look 
 at it!" 
 
 Cruel, cruel words ! and Robert Mayland s flush 
 ing cheek and trembling lips told how sharply they 
 struck home. Thoughtless Stephen Osborne ! He 
 was angry with himself for having lost his place at 
 the head of the class, and angry with Robert for 
 gaining it, too angry to be anything but glad at 
 seeing he had made Robert unhappy, and he went 
 on : "I guess I would stay at home before I would 
 wear a jacket that had two different colors. Ho ! 
 ho ! that s the way they do at the county-house ! " 
 
 " I d rather wear a jacket all the colors of the 
 rainbow than be a dunce," retorted Robert ; " and 
 I m going to have a new jacket at Christmas, too." 
 
 " Yes, and go without a turkey to pay for it. 
 You can t afford it any other way. It will be your
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 121 
 
 Christmas present, I suppose ; so you will kill two 
 birds with one stone." 
 
 "It won t, cither," rejoined Robert, though 
 rather faintly, for there was some truth in Ste 
 phen s words. 
 
 " You did n t have any Christmas last year, and 
 you are n t any richer now, I 11 be bound. I 
 would n t give that (snapping his fingers) for all 
 that you 11 find in your stocking." 
 
 Robert Mayland walked home alone and heavy- 
 hearted. He was not old enough and wise enough 
 to feel that Stephen s attempted ridicule was far 
 more disgraceful to Stephen than to himself. The 
 patch on his jacket looked larger and uglier than 
 ever, and he forgot the gentle, noble, patient, wid 
 owed mother, who, in sorrow and loneliness, 
 wrought on and toiled on for her five children. 
 He only wished he were rich, and could have 
 presents like the other boys ; and as he sat toasting 
 his feet before the fire that night, he saw wonderful 
 pictures in the glowing coals, as many and many 
 a boy, ay, and many a man too, has done before 
 him. 
 
 " What is it, Robert ? " asked his mother, cheer- 
 
 fly. 
 
 "Ma am?" 
 
 " You were looking very thoughtful. What is 
 it about ? " 
 
 6
 
 122 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 " 0, mamma, I was only thinking." 
 
 " Of course you were," spoke up Martial. " No 
 one would suppose you were doing anything else, 
 staring there into the blaze with eyes as big as 
 pewter platters. Let know what is brewing." 
 
 "Not unless you choose, Robert," added his 
 mother, quietly. 
 
 " 0, 1 don t care, mother. It was only about 
 I was thinking that is, I was wishing we could 
 have a merry Christmas once more." 
 
 " Just such nice ones as we used to have before 
 dear papa went away, so do I," said Erne, with 
 out looking up from the slate on which she was 
 drawing. Neither she nor Robert saw the paleness 
 that came across their mother s face ; but Martial 
 did, for he was older, and his mother s stay, and 
 comfort, and companion. " I am sure we are very 
 happy all the time," said he; "just as happy as 
 we can be without papa." 
 
 " Only mamma has to work so hard," said Erne, 
 mournfully. 
 
 " And we have to wear old clothes," added Rob 
 ert, more mournfully. 
 
 " And don t have any nice Christmas," chimed 
 in little Meg, most mournfully. 
 
 Mamma did not like to see the clouds hovering 
 over her children s faces, so she quickly dispelled the 
 one that had gathered on her own, and said cheer-
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 123 
 
 fully, " Whether we have nice Christmases or not, 
 we will have a nice, warm supper to-night; so 
 draw out the coals, Rob, while I get the potatoes." 
 
 Martial followed his mother into the pantry, shut 
 the door after him and held the latch down. 
 " Mamma," said he, earnestly, " I think it would 
 be a good plan to have a Christmas." His mother 
 looked at him, a little surprised. " I don t mind 
 it for myself," he went on, " indeed I don t ; but 
 the children would enjoy it so much, and particu 
 larly poor little Agnes. Only think how much she 
 is shut up, and does not see anybody scarcely but 
 us, and does not have any pleasures." " Yet she 
 is very happy," interposed her mother. " Yes, 
 ma am, I know it ; but she would enjoy a Christ 
 mas so much, because it is all in the house, and 
 she could be in the midst of it, just as much as if 
 she were n t lame. And then, mamma, you think 
 papa is happy in heaven, and don t you believe he 
 would like to have us just as happy as we can be 
 made ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my dear ; and I do not know but 
 that I have done wrong in not making your lives 
 livelier and merrier." 
 
 " dear, no, mamma, we don t any of us want 
 to be dancing a jig all the time. Only when every 
 one else is hopping, why, Rob and Erne and Meg 
 would like to join in, I suppose."
 
 124 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 " Very natural, I know ; and I think you are 
 quite right about the Christmas. We will talk it 
 over again at supper, but I must attend to pre 
 paring that now." 
 
 When they were all seated at the table, mamma 
 said, " Well, little ones, Martial thinks we would 
 better have a Christmas. What do you think 
 of it?" 
 
 A great " 0-o-oh ! " was sounded in concert, 
 and Erne jumped up, ran round to Martial, and, 
 pulling his head over the back of his chair, began 
 to kiss him. 
 
 " Out of the way ! take yourself off! " he shouted ; 
 but instead of Erne s taking herself off, Meg jumped 
 on, so that the poor fellow had to drag himself 
 sidewise out of his chair, in order to be rid of 
 them. When they were all quiet again, mamma 
 went on, " Now, children, you must decide what 
 we shall do." 
 
 " 0, 1 know," cried Robert ; " have a big roast 
 turkey and bushels of dressing, and a plum pud 
 ding, and cranberry tarts, and " 
 
 " And eat your Christmas all up, like a glutton. 
 Aren t you ashamed of yourself?" interrupted 
 Erne. " Now, I say let the dinner go. You can t 
 buy everything else, and a dinner too. Let s 
 have " 
 
 " Let s have a dinner, any way," said Robert,
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 125 
 
 " for Stephen Osborne said we could not afford a 
 turkey, and I want to show him we can." 
 
 " And show yourself a goose at the same time, 
 for we can t," added Martial. 
 
 " No, we 11 have you roasted, and have a turkey 
 and a goose too," and Erne smacked her lips. 
 
 " Softly, softly," said mamma. " I hope, Rob 
 ert, we are not going to have a Christmas for the 
 sake of showing that we are not poor." Robert 
 blushed, for that was in fact the very reason, the 
 main reason, why he wanted one. 
 
 " Because, in the first place," said Martial, " we 
 are poor, and in the second place we are not 
 ashamed of it, and in the third place it is none 
 of Stephen Osborne s business whether we are or 
 not." 
 
 " And if we only had dear papa with us," added 
 Erne, " we should not care if we never saw a tur 
 key or a chicken for a thousand years, nor any 
 goose, either, except you, old Bobus," and she 
 " chucked " him under the chin. He saw that the 
 current was setting against the turkey ; but the 
 sturdy, sensible good humor of his brother and 
 sister infected him, and he was stronger against 
 Stephen Osborne than he had been when single- 
 handed. 
 
 " Now, Erne," said Martial, " let s have your 
 views on the subject."
 
 126 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 " My views comprise, first, going to church in 
 the morning, of course ; a luncheon at noon, at 
 which we will have soda biscuit, and nobody shall 
 eat more than two, except Rob, who shall take an 
 extra half to console him for the turkey ; secondly, 
 or thirdly, which is it ? well, wherever it comes, a 
 grand coasting-party in the afternoon, we 11 put 
 Agnes into a feather-bed of blankets, and " 
 
 "Perhaps there won t be any snow," suggested 
 Robert. 
 
 " Of course there will ; what would Christmas 
 be worth without snow ? Then in the evening we 
 will have the grand grand " 
 
 " Splurge ! " said Martial. " Gun ! " whispered 
 Robert. 
 
 "0, you dreadful boys ! yes. We 11 have 
 apples, we have plenty of them, and all the 
 nuts, roasted and fried, and we 11 give pres 
 ents " 
 
 " Who ? " asked Meg s rosy lips and eager 
 eyes. 
 
 " Who ? Why, everybody, of course ; that is, 
 except myself. Nobody need expect to get any 
 thing from me ; but I hope you will all be gen 
 erous towards me, considering my efforts as the 
 oldest daughter." 
 
 " I 11 spend my three-cent piece," said Meg ; 
 
 that will buy three sticks of candy."
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 127 
 
 " And we 11 each have a half, won t we ? " 
 laughed Martial. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Martial," said mamma, " we are 
 ready to receive your proposition. The subject 
 is still open for discussion." 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen ! " began Martial, rising 
 and flourishing the half of a hot " lady-finger." 
 
 " I suppose I am the gentlemen, " said Rob, in 
 an under tone. 
 
 " I think he means himself," said Erne. " He 
 is talking for his own benefit, not ours." 
 
 Martial waved his potato in a dignified manner, 
 and went on. "I rise on this important occasion, 
 to offer an amendment. (Here he stopped for a 
 mouthful of potato, which, being disposed of, he 
 proceeded.) The plan brought forward by the 
 distinguished lady on my left, (a very low bow to 
 Erne, which she acknowledged with a profound 
 courtesy,) is no doubt very fine, but (another 
 mouthful of potato) it lacks that brilliancy which 
 I am happy to say is the distinguishing character 
 istic of the sterner sex. The plan which I am 
 about to propose " (another mouthful) 
 
 " As soon as I have swallowed a bushel of pota 
 toes," said Erne, mimicking his pompous tones. 
 
 " Small children, who cannot be quiet, are re 
 quested to be removed by their mothers. The plan 
 which I am about to propose has for its chief fea-
 
 128 CHEISTMAS. 
 
 ture, its centre-piece, a a I beg that I 
 may not again be subjected to the ordeal of kisses, 
 however much the female portion of my audience 
 may approve " 
 
 " No danger," said Erne, " we can t get at your 
 mouth, it s so running over with lady-fingers." 
 
 " Go ahead ! shouted Robert, " I 11 stand 
 guard ! " 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor to 
 suggest a Christmas-tree." 
 
 " Splendid ! " " The very thing ! " " yes, 
 mamma, let s ! " came from all sides, and for a 
 minute mamma could scarcely get in a word. 
 " But, dear children," she said at length, " Christ 
 mas-trees don t grow all ready " 
 
 " Plenty in Burr woods," said Martial. 
 
 " With lights, and flowers, and presents all on, 
 I suppose." 
 
 "0 no ! but you know, mamma, Rob and I can 
 get the tree, a fine one, it s a great deal to have 
 a fine tree, and that won t cost anything ; then we 
 can get plenty of pitch-pine to burn on it, and that 
 wont cost anything. Then the girls and we too, 
 need not get any more presents than we were go 
 ing to get in the first place, only what we do make 
 we will put on the tree ; and I should think four 
 women might put their heads together and fit it up 
 very pretty, without expending a fortune."
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 129 
 
 " And Agnes could help us a sight on that, 
 could n t you, Aggy dear ? " cried Erne. 
 
 " yes, I can make ever so many things, while 
 you are gone to school, dolls and bags " 
 
 " 0, you must n t tell, child. Everything must 
 be kept the most profound secret. Nobody is to 
 suppose he is going to have anything, and then we 
 shall not be disappointed if we don t get anything." 
 
 " I shall," whined little Meg ; " I shall be dis 
 appointed. I won t spend my three cents till I 
 know." 
 
 " you little Yankee," cried Martial ; " hand 
 over your three cents here. I 11 be responsible for 
 your receiving a present." 
 
 " And we could have the room dressed up with 
 evergreen," said Robert. 
 
 " And I can make tissue flowers, and so can 
 Agnes," added Erne. 
 
 " A tree or not a tree, that is the question," and 
 Martial leaned back in his chair in a very grand 
 way. 
 
 " A tree then be it, since you have set your 
 hearts upon it," answered mamma. And then 
 there was such leaping, and dancing, and clapping 
 of hands, such planning, and laughing, and won 
 dering, till Meg was sent to bed by main force an 
 hour after her usual time ; and even the pale cheek 
 of little Agnes was flushed with excitement. 
 
 6* I
 
 130 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 The days rolled on, and our young people were 
 busy as bees. Those who went to school hurried 
 home the moment school was out, and gave them 
 selves the shortest possible time for returning. 
 Mrs. Mayland s silk-bag was turned inside out 
 twenty times a day. Martial ransacked the garret, 
 and upset everything. There were mysterious er 
 rands to the village " cheap cash store," ends of 
 paper packages peeping out from under shawls, 
 a general hiding and looking very anxiously and 
 elaborately careless whenever a door was suddenly 
 opened. 
 
 " Here s Aggy, mamma," said Erne one day, 
 " has the advantage of all the rest of us, I think 
 it s too bad ! She just sits at home safely and sews 
 while we are at school, and we have to do our sew 
 ing by fits and starts." 
 
 " Agnes sew ! " answered her mother, with pre 
 tended surprise. " I am sure Agnes seems to me 
 to be cutting tissue flowers a great part of the 
 time." 
 
 " 0, now," exclaimed Robert, " you need not 
 pretend, mamma. Aggy does not cut paper roses 
 all the time, I know. Where did that skein of silk 
 come from, I should like to know, that I picked up 
 under her chair ? " 
 
 " Aggy," said Martial, " tell me what you 
 are going to give me, there s a dear ! " and he
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 131 
 
 sat down on the rug and took her feet in his 
 hands. 
 
 "Lean forward then, and let me whisper," an 
 swered Aggy. 
 
 " No, no, don t tell, you will lose all the fun ! " 
 cried Erne. 
 
 "0 fie ! just let Aggy and me alone, now 
 then ! We are intimate friends, Aggy and I. 
 Now then, come, why don t you tell?" So 
 Agnes put her mouth down to his ear, and said in 
 a slow, distinct whisper, 
 
 "I am going to give you a lit 
 tle red box! " and a pretty smart one it was, too. 
 They all set up a laugh, all but Martial, who 
 put both hands up to his ears, and groaned, and 
 made wry faces, as if he was very much hurt. 
 
 " I m glad of it, 0, 1 m glad of it," cried Meg, 
 delighted. 
 
 " Glad ! what are you glad for, you young 
 monkey ? " 
 
 " Because you got cheated, and you re such a 
 great boy," and Meg clapped her hands with joy. 
 Martial growled, and crawled on all fours to the 
 place where she was standing, and " tickled " her, 
 and pinched her, (not very hard,) and tried to 
 make her tell what she was going to give, but she 
 would not. " But I know what I am going to 
 give," said she, " and I know what Erne is going
 
 132 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 to give, because I sleep with Erne, and she has to 
 tell me, because I see the things on the table, and 
 Agnes s is the prettiest of all, and " 
 
 " Now stop, you gypsy, you," interrupted Erne, 
 " you 11 have it all out the next minute. Don t 
 you presume to lisp a syllable, one way or the 
 other. If you do ! " and Erne shook her finger 
 warningly. Meg shut her lips close, and pounded 
 them together with her hand, to show how im 
 possible it was for any words to come out. 
 
 " Well," said Martial, crawling back to the fire, 
 " I see how it is. I am the worst abused fellow in 
 this house. Nobody confides anything to me. I 
 hope, however, nobody expects to get anything 
 from me." 
 
 " Ho ! I think we do," cried Agnes. " I won 
 der what is all that hammering in the wood-house 
 for? and what has become of all mamma s 
 twine ? " 
 
 " Yes, and where is my paint-box, I should like 
 to know? " said Erne. " I have not set my eyes 
 on it for two days, and mamma looks knowing, 
 and won t tell." 
 
 " And I found a piece of pasteboard in the wood- 
 room this morning," said Meg, " cut into all funny 
 corners, and some paint on it." 
 
 " Nonsense, children, nonsense," said Martial. 
 " Get your Arithmetic, Bob. I really cannot frit 
 ter away my time in this frivolous conversation."
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 133 
 
 And still the days rolled on, till it was only three 
 days to Christmas, and the schools closed. And 
 the red sun came up over the snowy hills, and it 
 was only two days to Christmas, and up, slowly 
 up again, and it was only one day to Christmas. 
 Only one day to Christmas ! and the tree was to 
 be brought up, and the evergreens cut, those 
 were the first things. Erne would go down in the 
 woods to help and see, and they crashed through 
 the crusted snow, and brought down snow-storms 
 from the branches, and hesitated, and chattered, 
 and decided, and hesitated, and decided again, 
 and loaded the sled with evergreen, and carried 
 the tree in their hands, it was not a very large 
 one, and then it was to be trimmed, and hung, 
 and prepared for lighting, and such a trouble to 
 get the gifts on without the names being seen, 
 and they finally did not hang half, but gave them 
 to mamma to put on the next day, when they were 
 gone to church. 
 
 And once more the red sun rose joyous over the 
 snowy hills, and it was Christmas, the great 
 feast-day of the world. Happy hearts, sparkling 
 eyes, rosy cheeks, and nimble feet, went from Mrs. 
 Mayland s cottage over the snowy hills, when the 
 little children went to worship God in the village 
 church. Full, clear, and wondrous sweet their 
 young voices rang out with the organ peal. Mrs.
 
 134 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 Mayland watched them from her window till even 
 little Meg s blue cloak was out of sight, and then 
 with a blessing on her lips and in her heart, she 
 went back to pale little Agnes. But Agnes was 
 sitting in the sunshine playing with her kitten, 
 sunshine beaming in through the window, sun 
 shine beaming out through her eyes ; so Mrs. May- 
 land, with a word and a caress, left her, and went 
 on with the preparation of a wonderful pudding, 
 whose existence was a secret to all but Agnes. 
 There were many other things to be done also, but 
 when the house had been put in order, and the 
 Christmas-tree had received the last touch, and 
 the neat little room was all ready to be lighted, 
 and the door was locked, there yet remained 
 two hours before the children would be at home. 
 They had carried the soda biscuits with them, 
 together with a few for a poor old lady who 
 lived alone, and in whose house they were to take 
 their lunch, and spend an hour or so to make her 
 Christmas more merry, and then they were to take 
 Meard Pond on their way home, where was some 
 " tall sliding," Robert said. This arrangement 
 had been proposed by Mrs. Mayland, partly for 
 the old lady s happiness, partly for the children s, 
 and partly to make the interval between their com 
 ing home and candle-light as short as possible, 
 as candle-light was to be the signal for the com 
 mencement of festivities.
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 135 
 
 Mrs. Mayland gave Agnes her bread and milk, 
 and a book of pictures, and then went to her own 
 room. She was very sad, and she wished to be 
 alone. With her children s happy voices around 
 her she was cheerful, but in the silence, she re 
 membered a manly voice, that her heart was faint 
 to hear again. Her thoughts travelled back to 
 the Christmas three years before, when her chil 
 dren and their father gathered about the home- 
 hearth. Then came the sad parting, the far 
 wandering over the sea, the long waiting with 
 out tidings, and last, the terrible tidings, 
 "wrecked," "lost." Tears, often kept back 
 for her children s sake, would now no longer be 
 repressed, she wept, and trembled, and shud 
 dered, in the greatness of her sorrow. A knock 
 ing at the door aroused her. She hastily rose, 
 calmed herself with a sudden and strong effort, 
 and went to open the door to whatever neighbor 
 had called. It was not a neighbor. 
 
 Over the snowy hills, flushed with the setting 
 sun, came the eager children, rolling in the snow, 
 stamping, snowballing, pushing each other down, 
 overflowing with vigorous young life, and their 
 presence soon filled the house. Their mother met 
 them at the door, and kissed and embraced them 
 with more than her usual tenderness. There was
 
 136 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 a glow on her face, and an almost startling bril 
 liancy in her blue eyes. 
 
 " Mamma, how happy you look," said Erne. 
 
 " And how handsome ! " added Martial. 
 
 "You are really glorified," continued Erne, 
 " something has happened." 
 
 " Yes, something has happened, Christmas has 
 happened. My darlings have come home again all 
 safe. Shall I not be happy ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, but it is not so very remarkable. 
 You did not expect we were going to get lost or 
 be torn in pieces by wild beasts coming home from 
 church." 
 
 " Where s Aggy ? " asked Martial, not seeing 
 her in her accustomed place. 
 
 " She is in my room," said mamma ; " she will 
 be out directly. Come, dear children, take off 
 your clothes, it is almost dark." 
 
 " Why, mamma," said Erne, astonished, " Aggy 
 in your room, in the cold ? " 
 
 " Not in the cold, dear ; I have had a fire kin 
 dled." 
 
 " In your room ? 0, that s nice ; let s go in." 
 
 " No, no," said mamma quickly ; " you must 
 not go in. The truth is, a Christmas present has 
 come while you were gone, and Aggy is in there 
 looking at it." 
 
 " 0, what is it, mamma ? do tell, don t
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 137 
 
 wait," exclaimed Robert. " A Christmas present 
 so valuable that it has to have a fire made for it ! " 
 puzzled Robert, " it must be something alive. 
 At least tell us where it came from. Did you or 
 der it, or who sent it ? " 
 
 " God sent it, my child. The Christ whose birth 
 we celebrate to-day." The tone was so solemn 
 that the children were awed. Then their mamma 
 smiled, but her eyes were full of tears, yet happy 
 tears, and she left the room. 
 
 " Well, I declare ! " said Martial ; " what does 
 it all mean ? " 
 
 " I never saw mamma act so in my life," said 
 Erne. " A Christmas present ! What can it be ? " 
 
 " Nothing very bad, I think, for she is evidently 
 happy ; but I did not know a present of any kind 
 could give her such a splendid color." 
 
 They stood by the fire talking, and Mrs. Mayland 
 came in and out of the room, lighted the candles, 
 stirred the fire, and the children saw that there 
 was always a smile in her eyes. Presently she 
 said, gayly, " Now, fellow-citizens, form a line. 
 The exhibition is ready." 
 
 There was a good deal of laughing, and jolting, 
 and jumping up and down, in eagerness to see the 
 Christmas-tree first. 
 
 " Is it all lighted, mamma ? " cried Meg. 
 
 " All lighted, my love."
 
 138 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 " 0, 1 wonder what I shall have. I know what 
 you are going to have, and mamma, a beauti- 
 ful- 
 
 " Hold your tongue," said Eob, shaking his fist 
 menacingly. 
 
 They reached the door. Mrs. Mayland s hand 
 was on the latch, she hesitated. 
 
 " How you tremble, mamma," said Martial. 
 " What is the matter ? you must be ill." 
 
 " Nothing, dear," answered she nervously. 
 " Open the door. Go in, quick ! " 
 
 He opened the door. The light burst full upon 
 them. They uttered an exclamation of delight, 
 which suddenly, on Meg s lips, turned to a cry of 
 terror, and she clung to her mother. The older 
 children looked in the direction of her frightened 
 glance, and there, close to them, a little in the 
 shadow of the door, stood a tall, bearded man, 
 but not a robber, as Meg thought ; no, for little 
 Agnes lay in his arms. One more glance up from 
 the full beard and the bronzed cheeks into the dark 
 eyes, and there was a cry and a rush, " PAPA ! " 
 
 " And so you are our Christmas present ? " said 
 Erne, an hour after, when the first great gush of 
 happiness and rapture and excitement and tears 
 was over, and they all sat " in a heap," (as Mar 
 tial said, but Erne had replied : "No matter,
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 139 
 
 is it, papa? You know we all want to touch 
 you.") 
 
 "And that was what made mamma so hand 
 some ? " 
 
 " And how did you come, papa ? Don t tell us 
 all about everything. We will have that all along. 
 0, the long winter evenings, the blessed even 
 ings we shall have all together, and you will talk to 
 us, but, tell us, papa, where you were when we 
 came in, and how you could keep still so long." 
 
 And he told them how he came to the cottage, 
 and found mamma alone, he did not tell them, 
 because he could, not, of that meeting ; but he told 
 how little Agnes was brought in, little Agnes, 
 his white lamb, whose great, calm, happy eyes 
 were looking up into his then, like stars, and 
 how at first she did not know him, but soon came 
 to him and nestled in his bosom, till her young, 
 pure heart, beat close against his, and then how 
 mamma told him all about the children, and showed 
 him their rooms, and their clothes, and their books 
 and playthings, and the Christmas-tree, and how 
 they came to have it, and then he heard their 
 voices coming, and went into the parlor, and wait 
 ed, and waited, pressing little Agnes closer and 
 closer, till the door opened, and 
 
 Then he told them just a little of his long jour 
 neying, the shipwreck the almost miraculous
 
 140 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 manner in which he had been saved the hard 
 ships he had endured the long illness the 
 many perils, and the safe return, all the particu 
 lars, as Erne said, he deferred to the " blessed win 
 ter evenings " that lay golden and shining before 
 them. 
 
 " And now, little ones, you have forgotten the 
 Christmas-tree ; but shall we not examine it ? " 
 
 " yes, papa," said Erne, " but we will have an 
 other Christmas-tree at New Year, just for you." 
 
 " And we shall have to hang ourselves on it," 
 said Martial, " for we have hung all our property 
 on this one." 
 
 They walked round the room, admiring it, and it 
 really looked very pretty, with its evergreen fes 
 toons and roses, and then there was a demand 
 on Meg s part for the gifts. Martial took charge 
 of their distribution. " Miss Margaret Mayland s" 
 name was read, and she was called up so often, 
 that no doubt existed in her own, or any one else s 
 mind that she had received ample remuneration 
 for the disbursement of her three cents. Martial s 
 hammering was accounted for by the appearance of 
 a curious little affair, half truckle-cart, half sled ; 
 or rather, all truckle-cart one half the time, and all 
 sled the other ; on one side of which was painted 
 in bright green letters, " Agnes Mayland," and on 
 the other, " The Arrow." This was made so that
 
 THE MAYLAND CELEBRATION. 141 
 
 Agnes could be cushioned and blanketed in to any 
 extent. There was a painted pasteboard horse for 
 Meg, and a varnished work-box for Erne, and a 
 kite for Robert, all made by Martial, the latter 
 " rather out of season," he said, " but it was well 
 to have an anchor to the windward." There were 
 also needle-books, and pincushions, and pasteboard 
 baskets covered with silk, and a spool-box for mam 
 ma, and many, many things, invented by active 
 brains, and wrought by loving hands, which cost 
 very little money, but were just as precious, for all 
 that. 
 
 Nine, ten, eleven o clock came, and nobody 
 wished to go to bed, and neither papa nor mamma 
 could bear to send the children away ; but Agnes 
 and Margaret were both asleep, and so mamma 
 said they must all go. Before they went, they 
 knelt and poured out their full hearts in praise 
 and thanksgiving to Him who had gathered them 
 once more, an unbroken family. So their Christ 
 mas ended. Nay, rather, so their Christmas burst 
 into the bloom of a thrice happy New Year. 
 
 And so, little children everywhere, may merry 
 Christmases bud and blossom for you into happy 
 and ever happier New Years. 
 
 Cambridge : Stereotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.
 
 
 
 A 000 674 343