THE 
 LITTLE COLONEL STORIES 
 
 (Trade Mark)
 
 Works of 
 ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 
 
 The Little Colonel Series 
 
 (Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of.) 
 Each one vol., large 12mo, cloth, illustrated 
 
 The Little Colonel Stories $1.50 
 
 (Containing in one volume the three stories, " The 
 Little Colonel," " The Giant Scissors," and 
 " Two Little Knights of Kentucky.") 
 
 The Little Colonel's House Party .... 1.50 
 
 The Little Colonel's Holidays 1.50 
 
 The Little Colonel's Hero 1.50 
 
 The Little Colonel at Boarding-School . . . 1.50 
 
 The Little Colonel in Arizona 1.50 
 
 The Little Cjlonel's Christmas Vacation . . . 1.50 
 
 The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor .... 1.50 
 
 The Little Colonel's Knight Comes Riding . . 1.50 
 
 The above 9 vols., boxed 13.50 
 
 In Preparation A New Little Colonel Book . . 1.50 
 
 The Little Colonel Good Times Book . . . 1.50 
 
 Illustrated Holiday Editions 
 
 Each one vol., small quarto, cloth, illustrated, and printed 
 in colour 
 
 The Little Colonel $1.25 
 
 The Giant Scissors 1.25 
 
 Two Little Knights of Kentucky .... 1.25 
 
 Big Brother 1.25 
 
 Cosy Corner Series 
 Each one vol., thin 12mo, cloth, illustrated 
 
 The Little Colonel . . $.50 
 
 The Giant Scissors .50 
 
 Two Little Knights of Kentucky .... .50 
 
 Big Brother .SO 
 
 Ole Mammy's Torment 50 
 
 The Story of Dago SO 
 
 Cicely 50 
 
 Aunt 'Liza's Hero .50 
 
 The Quilt that Jack Built .50 
 
 Flip's " Islands of Providence " .... .50 
 
 Mildred's Inheritance ........ .50 
 
 Other Books 
 
 Joel: A Boy of Galilee $1.50 
 
 In the Desert of Waiting .50 
 
 The Three Weavers .50 
 
 Keeping Tryst 50 
 
 The Legend of the Bleeding Heart ... .50 
 
 Asa Holmes 1.00 
 
 Songs Ysame (Poems, with Albion Fellows Bacon) - 1.00 
 
 L. C PAGE & COMPANY 
 200 Summer Street Boston, Mass.
 
 i 
 
 * 
 
 & 
 
 the Little Colonel 
 Stories 
 
 By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 
 
 Author of " The Little Colonel Books," " Bl Brother," 
 " Asa Holmes," " Ole Mammy's Torment," etc. 
 
 Illustrated by ETHELDRED B. BARRY 
 
 BOSTON * L. C. PAGE 
 & COMPANY * PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1895 
 BY JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY 
 
 Copyright, 1898 
 BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
 
 (INCORPORATED) 
 
 Copyright, 1899 
 BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
 
 (INCORPORATED) 
 A II rights reserved 
 
 Seventeenth Impression, June, 1909
 
 a/37 
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 THE GIANT SCISSORS 
 
 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL . . . Frontispiece 
 ''CAUSE I'M so MUCH LIKE YOU,' WAS THE 
 
 STARTLING ANSWER " . . . . . 9 
 
 ' THE SAME TEMPER SEEMED TO BE BURNING 
 
 IN THE EYES OF THE CHILD " . .26 
 
 " WITH THE PARROT PERCHED ON THE BROOM 
 
 SHE WAS CARRYING " . . . . -42 
 
 "THE LITTLE COLONEL CLATTERED UP AND 
 
 DOWN THE HALL" ..... 48 
 
 " SINGING AT THE TOP OF HER VOICE" . . 55 
 "'TELL ME GOOD-BY, BABY DEAR,' SAID MRS. 
 
 SHERMAN" 69 
 
 " ' AMANTHIS,' REPEATED THE CHILD DREAMILY " 77 
 
 "SHE CLIMBED UP IN FRON'T OF THE MIRROR" 9! 
 "THE SWEET LITTLE VOICE SANG IT TO THE 
 
 END" 97 
 
 THE GIANT SCISSORS 
 
 JULES 10 
 
 WHERE JOYCE LIVED 17 
 
 "'HE IS STOPPING AT THE GATE'" . . .21 
 
 THE KING'S SONS 27 
 
 "HE CUT IT LOOSE AND CARRIED IT HOME" . 39 
 
 THE PRINCESS 41 
 
 "HE LAID HIS HEAD ON THE SILL". . . 56 
 " IT FELL TO THE FLOOR WITH A CRASH" . 6l 
 OUT WITH MARIE ...... 67 
 
 " HE CAME TOWARDS HKR WITH A DAZED EX- 
 PRESSION ON HS FACE" .... 75 
 
 INITIAL LETTER 80 
 
 A LESSON iv PATRIOTISM 89 
 
 TRYING TO READ ...... 95 
 
 "'On, IF JACK COULD ONLY SEE IT!'" . . 108 
 " ' BROSSARD, BEWARE! BEWARE!'" . . .115 
 ' THE CHILD CREPT CLOSE TO THE CHEERFUL 
 
 FIRE" . ,121
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 JOYCE AND SISTER DENISA . . . .127 
 
 NUMBER THIRTY-ONE. . . . . . 134 
 
 " JULES CAME OVER, AWKWARD AND SHY" . 141 
 " SITTING UP IN BED WITH THE QUILTS WRAPPED 
 
 AROUND HIM " 149 
 
 '"THAT'S NUMBER THIRTY-ONE'" . . .161 
 "WALKING UP AND DOWN THE PATHS" . 1 66 
 
 "KEEPING TIME TO THE MUSIC" . . . 1 80 
 " HE TOOK THE LITTLE FELLOW'S HAND IN HIS" 185 
 
 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY 
 
 PLANS 10 
 
 " BEHIND HIM CAME A BOY NO LARGER THAN 
 
 KEITH" 17 
 
 "ACROSS THE SNOWY FIELDS" .... 27 
 
 VIRGINIA . .34 
 
 ' THE PRETTIEST VALENTINE OF ALL MUST GO 
 
 TO POOR PAPA ' " 43 
 
 '" DAPHNE, WHAT'S DEM CHILLUN ALLUZ RACIN' 
 
 DOWN TO DE SPRING-HOUSE FO' ? '" . . 51 
 '"I HATE TO GO OFF AND LEAVE HIM IN THE 
 
 DARK " ....... 62 
 
 " WITH THE TALL SILVER CANDLESTICK HELD 
 
 HIGH IN BOTH HANDS" .... 67 
 " ' WILL YOU KEEP IT TO REMEMBER ME BY ? ' " 73 
 " HE WAS CRYING VIOLENTLY NOW " . . .89 
 " THERE WAS ONE BOOK WHICH KEITH CARRIED 
 
 AROUND WITH HIM" ..... 103 
 
 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST no 
 
 "'I'D LIKE TO BE A KNIGHT ALWAYS'" . . IlS 
 " THE LITTLE COLONEL HAD BEEN LOWERED 
 
 INTO A DEEP FEED-BIN" . . . .127 
 THE RESCUE . . . . . .131 
 
 VIRGINIA AND THE CALF 145 
 
 "GIVE ME MY BOW'" 151 
 
 "NOBODY CAME" 158 
 
 " LIVE PURE, SPEAK TRUTH, RIGHT THE WRONG, 
 
 FOLLOW THE KING. ELSE WHEREFORE 
 
 BORN?" 172 
 
 "THERE WERE THREE WITH HIM" . . .185
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 (Trade Mark)
 
 TO ONE OF 
 
 KENTUCKY'S DEARKST LITTLE DAUGHTERS 
 
 "C&e little Colonel" t>ergelf 
 
 THIS REMEMBRANCE OF A HAPPY SUMMER 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IT was one of the prettiest places in all 
 Kentucky where the Little Colonel stood that 
 morning 1 . She was reaching up on tiptoes, her 
 eager little face pressed close against the iron 
 bars of the great entrance gate that led to a 
 fine old estate known as " Locust." 
 
 A ragged little Scotch and Skye terrier stood 
 on its hind feet beside her, thrusting his inquisi- 
 tive nose between the bars, and wagging his 
 tasselled tail in lively approval of the scene be- 
 fore them. 
 
 They were looking down a long avenue that 
 stretched for nearly a quarter of a mile between 
 rows of stately old locust-trees.
 
 2 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 At the far end they could see the white pil- 
 lars of a large stone house gleaming through 
 the Virginia creeper that nearly covered it. 
 But they could not see the old Colonel in his 
 big chair on the porch behind the cool screen 
 of vines. 
 
 At that very moment he had caught the rattle 
 of wheels along the road, and had picked up 
 his field-glass to see who was passing. It was 
 only a coloured man jogging along in the heat 
 and dust with a cart full of chicken-coops. 
 The Colonel watched him drive up a lane that 
 led to the back of the new hotel that had just 
 been opened in this quiet country place. Then 
 his glance fell on the two small strangers com- 
 ing through his gate down the avenue toward 
 him. One was the friskiest dog he had ever 
 seen in his life. The other was a child he 
 judged to be about five years old. 
 
 Her shoes were covered with dust, and her 
 white sunbonnet had slipped off and was hang- 
 ing over her shoulders. A bunch of wild 
 flowers she had gathered on the way hung 
 limp and faded in her little warm hand. Her 
 soft, light hair was cut as short as a boy's. 
 
 There was something strangely familiar
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 3 
 
 about the child, especially in the erect, grace- 
 ful way she walked. 
 
 Old Colonel Lloyd was puzzled. He had 
 lived all his life in Lloydsborough, and this was 
 the first time he had ever failed to recognize 
 one of the neighbours' children. He knew 
 every dog and horse, too, by sight if not by 
 name. 
 
 Living so far from the public road did not 
 limit his knowledge of what was going on in 
 the world. A powerful field-glass brought 
 every passing object in plain view, while he 
 was saved all annoyance of noise and dust. 
 
 " I ought to know that child as well as I 
 know my own name," he said to himself. 
 " But the dog is a stranger in these parts. 
 Liveliest thing I ever set eyes on ! They must 
 have come from the hotel. Wonder what they 
 want." 
 
 He carefully wiped the lens for a better 
 view. When he looked again he saw that they 
 evidently had not come to visit him. 
 
 They had stopped half-way down the avenue, 
 and climbed up on a rustic seat to rest. 
 
 The dog sat motionless about two minutes,
 
 4 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 his red tongue hanging- out as if he were com- 
 pletely exhausted. 
 
 Suddenly he gave a spring, and bounded 
 away through the tall blue grass. He was 
 back again in a moment, with a stick in his 
 mouth. Standing up with his fore paws in 
 the lap of his little mistress, he looked so wist- 
 fully into her face that she could not refuse 
 this invitation for a romp. 
 
 The Colonel chuckled as they went tum- 
 bling about in the grass to find the stick which 
 the child repeatedly tossed away. 
 
 He hitched his chair along to the other end 
 of the porch as they kept getting farther away 
 from the avenue. 
 
 It had been many a long year since those old 
 locust-trees had seen a' sight like that. Chil- 
 dren never played any more under their digni- 
 fied shadows. 
 
 Time had been (but they only whispered this 
 among themselves on rare spring days like 
 this) when the little feet chased each other up 
 and down the long \valk, as much at home as 
 the pewees in the beeches. 
 
 Suddenly the little maid stood up straight,
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 5 
 
 and began to sniff the air, as if some delicious 
 odour had blown across the lawn. 
 
 " Fritz," she exclaimed, in delight, " I 'mell 
 'trawberries ! " 
 
 The Colonel, who could not hear the remark, 
 wondered at the abrupt pause in the game. 
 He understood it, however, when he saw them 
 wading through the tall grass, straight to his 
 strawberry bed. It was the pride of his heart, 
 and the finest for miles around. The first ber- 
 ries of the season had been picked only the 
 day before. Those that now hung temptingly 
 red on the vines he intended to send to his 
 next neighbour, to prove his boasted claim of 
 always raising the finest and earliest fruit. 
 
 He did not propose to have his plans spoiled 
 by these stray guests. Laying the field-glass 
 in its accustomed place on the little table beside 
 his chair, he picked up his hat and strode down 
 the walk. 
 
 Colonel Lloyd's friends all said he looked 
 like Napoleon, or rather like Napoleon might 
 have looked had he been born and bred a Ken- 
 tuckian. 
 
 He made an imposing figure in his suit of 
 white duck.
 
 6 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 The Colonel always wore white from May 
 till October. 
 
 There was a military precision about him, 
 from his erect carriage to the cut of the little 
 white goatee on his determined chin. 
 
 No one looking into the firm lines of his 
 resolute face could imagine him ever abandon- 
 ing a purpose or being turned aside when he 
 once formed an opinion. 
 
 Most children were afraid of him. The 
 darkies about the place shook in their shoes 
 when he frowned. They had learned from ex- 
 perience that " ole Marse Lloyd had a tigah of 
 a tempah in him." 
 
 As he passed down the walk there were two 
 mute witnesses to his old soldier life. A spur 
 gleamed on his boot heel, for he had just re- 
 turned from his morning ride, and his right 
 sleeve hung empty. 
 
 He had won his title bravely. He had given 
 his only son and his strong right arm to the 
 Southern cause. That had been nearly thirty 
 years ago. 
 
 He did not charge down on the enemy with 
 his usual force this time. The little head, 
 gleaming like sunshine in the strawberry patch,
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 7 
 
 reminded him so strongly of a little fellow who 
 used to follow him everywhere, Tom, the 
 sturdiest, handsomest boy in the county, 
 Tom, whom he had been so proud of, whom he 
 had so nearly worshipped. 
 
 Looking at this fair head bent over the vines, 
 he could almost forget that Tom had ever out- 
 grown his babyhood, that he had shouldered a 
 rifle and followed him to camp, a mere boy, to be 
 shot down by a Yankee bullet in his first battle. 
 
 The old Colonel could almost believe he had 
 him back again, and that he stood in the midst 
 of those old days the locusts sometimes whis- 
 pered about. 
 
 He could not hear the happiest of little voices 
 that was just then saying, " Oh, Fritz, isn't you 
 glad we came? An' isn't you glad we've got a 
 gran'fathah with such good 'trawberries ? " 
 
 It was hard for her to put the s before her 
 consonants. 
 
 As the Colonel came nearer she tossed an- 
 other berry into the dog's mouth. A twig 
 snapped, and she raised a startled face toward 
 him. 
 
 " Suh? " she said, timidly, for it seemed to 
 her that the stern, piercing eyes had spoken.
 
 8 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 " What are you doing here, child ? " he 
 asked, in a voice so much kinder than his eyes 
 that she regained her usual self-possession at 
 once. 
 
 " Eatin' 'trawberries," she answered, coolly. 
 
 " Who are you, anyway ? " he exclaimed, 
 much puzzled. As he asked the question his 
 gaze happened to rest on the dog, who was 
 peering at him through the ragged, elfish wisps 
 of hair nearly covering its face, with eyes that 
 were startlingly human. 
 
 " 'Peak when yo'ah 'poken to, Fritz," she 
 said, severely, at the same time popping an- 
 other luscious berry into her mouth. 
 
 Fritz obediently gave a long yelp. The Colo- 
 nel smiled grimly. 
 
 " What's your name? " he asked, this time 
 looking directly at her. 
 
 " Mothah calls me her baby," was the soft- 
 spoken reply, " but papa an' Mom Beck they 
 calls me the Little Cun'l." 
 
 " What under the sun do they call you that 
 for? " he roared. 
 
 " 'Cause I'm so much like you," was the 
 startling answer.
 
 THE LITTLE, COLONEL 9 
 
 "Like me!" fairly gasped the Colonel. 
 " How are you like me? " 
 
 " Oh, I'm got such a vile tempah, an' I 
 stamps my foot when I gets mad, an' gets all 
 red in the face. An' I hollahs at folks, an' 
 looks jus' zis way." 
 
 She drew her face down and puckered her 
 lips into such a sullen pout thai it looked as 
 if a thunder-storm had passed over it. The 
 next instant she smiled up at him serenely. 
 
 The Colonel laughed. " What makes you 
 think I am like that? " he said. " You never 
 saw me before."
 
 IO THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 " Yes, I have too," she persisted. " You's 
 a-hangin' in a gold frame over ou' mantel." 
 
 Just then a clear, high voice was heard call- 
 ing out in the road. 
 
 The child started up in alarm. " Oh, deah," 
 she exclaimed in dismay, at sight of the stains 
 on her white dress, where she had been kneel- 
 ing on the fruit, " that's Mom Beck. Now 
 I'll be tied up, and maybe put to bed for run- 
 nin' away again. But the berries is mighty 
 nice," she added, politely. " Good mawnin', 
 suh. Fritz, we mus' be goin' now." 
 
 The voice was coming nearer. 
 
 " I'll walk down to the gate with you," said 
 the Colonel, anxious to learn something more 
 about his little guest. 
 
 " Oh, you'd bettah not, suh ! " she cried in 
 alarm. " Mom Beck doesn't like you a bit. 
 She just hates you ! She's goin' to give you 
 a piece of her mind the next time she sees you. 
 I heard her tell Aunt Nervy so." 
 
 There was as much real distress in the child's 
 voice as if she were telling him of a promised 
 flogging. 
 
 "Lloyd! Aw, Lloy-eed!" the call came 
 again.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL I I 
 
 A neat-looking coloured woman glanced in 
 at the gate as she was passing by, and then 
 stood still in amazement. She had often found 
 her little charge playing along the roadside or 
 hiding behind trees, but she had never before 
 known her to pass through any one's gate. 
 
 As the name came floating down to him 
 through the clear air, a change came over the 
 Colonel's stern face. He stooped over the 
 child. His hand trembled as he put it under 
 her soft chin, and raised her eyes to his. 
 
 " Lloyd, Lloyd ! " he repeated, in a puzzled 
 way. " Can it be possible ? There certainly 
 is a wonderful resemblance. You have my 
 little Tom's hair, and only my baby Elizabeth 
 ever had such hazel eyes." 
 
 He caught her up in his one arm, and strode 
 on to the gate, where the coloured woman 
 stood. 
 
 " Why, Becky, is that you ? " he cried, rec- 
 ognizing an old, trusted servant who had lived 
 at Locust in his wife's lifetime. 
 
 Her only answer was a sullen nod. 
 
 "Whose child is this?" he asked, eagerly, 
 without seeming to notice her defiant looks. 
 " Tell me if you can."
 
 12 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 " How can I tell you, suh," she demanded, 
 indignantly, " when you have fo'bidden even 
 her name to be spoken befo' you ? " 
 
 A harsh look came into the Colonel's eyes. 
 He put the child hastily down, and pressed his 
 lips together. 
 
 " Don't tie my sunbonnet, Mom Beck," she 
 begged. Then she waved her hand with an 
 engaging smile. 
 
 " Good-bye, suh," she said, graciously. 
 " We've had a mighty nice time ! " 
 
 The Colonel took off his hat with his usual 
 courtly bow, but he spoke no word in reply. 
 
 When the last flutter of her dress 1 had dis- 
 appeared around the bend of the road, he 
 walked slowly back toward the house. 
 
 Half-way down the long avenue where she 
 had stopped to rest, he sat down on the same 
 rustic seat. He could feel her soft little fingers 
 resting on his neck, where they had lain when 
 he carried her to the gate. 
 
 A very un-Napoleonlike mist blurred his 
 sight for a moment. It had been so long since 
 such a touch had thrilled him, so long since any 
 caress had been given him.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 1$ 
 
 More than a score of years had gone by since 
 Tom had been laid in a soldier's grave, and the 
 years that Elizabeth had been lost to him 
 seemed almost a lifetime. 
 
 And this was Elizabeth's little daughter. 
 Something very warm and sweet seemed to 
 surge across his heart as he thought of the 
 Little Colonel. He was glad, for a moment, 
 that they called her that; glad that his only 
 grandchild looked enough like himself for 
 others to see the resemblance. 
 
 But the feeling passed as he remembered that 
 his daughter had married against his wishes, 
 and he had closed his doors for ever against 
 her. 
 
 The old bitterness came back redoubled in its 
 force. 
 
 The next instant he was stamping down the 
 avenue, roaring for Walker, his body-servant, 
 in such a tone that the cook's advice was speed- 
 ily taken : " Bettah hump yo'self outen dis 
 heah kitchen befo' de ole tigah gits to lashin' 
 roun' any pearter."
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MOM BECK carried the ironing-board out of 
 the hot kitchen, set the irons off the stove, and 
 then tiptoed out to the side porch of the little 
 cottage. 
 
 " Is yo' head feelin' any bettah, honey ? " 
 she said to the pretty, girlish-looking woman 
 lying in the hammock. " I promised to step 
 up to the hotel this evenin' to see one of the 
 chambah-maids. I thought I'd take the Little 
 Cun'l along with me if you was willin'. She's 
 always wild to play with Mrs. Wyford's chil- 
 dren up there." 
 
 " Yes, I'm better, Becky," was the languid 
 reply. " Put a clean dress on Lloyd if you are 
 going to take her out." 
 
 Mrs. Sherman closed her eyes again, think- 
 ing gratefully, "Dear, faithful old Becky! 
 What a comfort she has been all my life, first 
 14
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 15 
 
 as my nurse, and now as Lloyd's ! She is 
 worth her weight in gold ! " 
 
 The afternoon shadows were stretching long 
 across the grass when Mom Beck led the child 
 up the green slope in front of the hotel. 
 
 The Little Colonel had danced along so gaily 
 with Fritz that her cheeks glowed like wild 
 roses. She made a quaint little picture with 
 such short sunny hair and dark eyes shining 
 out from under the broad-brimmed white hat 
 she wore. 
 
 Several ladies who were sitting on the shady 
 piazza, busy with their embroidery, noticed her 
 admiringly. 
 
 " It's Elizabeth Lloyd's little daughter," one 
 of them explained. " Don't you remember 
 what a scene there was some years ago when 
 she married a New York man? Sherman, I 
 believe, his name was, Jack Sherman. He was 
 a splendid fellow, and enormously wealthy. 
 Nobody could say a word against him, except 
 that he was a Northerner. That was enough 
 for the old Colonel, though. He hates Yankees 
 like poison. He stormed and swore, and for- 
 bade Elizabeth ever coming in his sight again. 
 He had her room locked up, and not a soul on
 
 1 6 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 the place ever dares mention her name in his 
 hearing." 
 
 The Little Colonel sat down demurely on the 
 piazza steps to wait for the children. The 
 nurse had not finished dressing them for the 
 evening. 
 
 She amused herself by showing Fritz the 
 pictures in an illustrated weekly. It was not 
 long until she began to feel that the ladies were 
 talking about her. She had lived among older 
 people so entirely that her thoughts were much 
 deeper than her baby speeches would lead one 
 to suppose. 
 
 She understood dimly, from what she had 
 heard the servants say, that there was some 
 trouble between her mother and grandfather. 
 Now she heard it rehearsed from beginning to 
 end. She could not understand what they 
 meant by " bank failures " and " unfortunate 
 investments," but she understood enough to 
 know that her father had lost nearly all his 
 money, and had gone West to make more. 
 
 Mrs. Sherman had moved from their ele- 
 gant New York home two weeks ago to this 
 little cottage in Lloydsborough that her mother 
 had left her. Instead of the houseful of
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL IJ 
 
 servants they used to have, there was only 
 faithful Mom Beck to do everything. 
 
 There was something magnetic in the child's 
 eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Wyford shrugged her shoulders un- 
 easily as she caught their piercing gaze fixed 
 on her. 
 
 " I do believe that little witch understood 
 every word I said," she exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh, certainly not," was the reassuring an- 
 swer. " She's such a little thing." 
 
 But she had heard it all, and understood 
 enough to make her vaguely unhappy. Going 
 home she did not frisk along with Fritz, but 
 walked soberly by Mom Beck's side, holding 
 tight to the friendly black hand. 
 
 " We'll go through the woods," said Mom 
 Beck, lifting her over the fence. " It's not so 
 long that way." 
 
 As they followed the narrow, straggling path 
 into the cool dusk of the woods, she began to 
 sing. The crooning chant was as mournful as 
 a funeral dirge. 
 
 -/ 
 
 " The clouds hang heavy, an' it's gwine to rain, 
 Fa'well, my dyin' friends.
 
 1 8 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 I'm gwine to lie in the silent tomb. 
 Fa'well, my dyin' friends." 
 
 A muffled little sob made her stop and look 
 down in surprise. 
 
 " Why, what's the mattah, honey ? " she ex- 
 claimed. " Did Emma Louise make you mad ? 
 Or is you cryin' 'cause you're so tiVd ? Come ! 
 Ole Becky'll tote her baby the rest of the way." 
 
 She picked the light form up in her arms, 
 and, pressing the troubled little face against her 
 shoulder, resumed her walk and her song. 
 
 " It's a world of trouble we're travellin' through. 
 Fa'well, my dyin' friends." 
 
 " Oh, don't, Mom Beck," sobbed the child, 
 throwing her arms around the woman's neck, 
 and crying as though her heart would break. 
 
 " Land sakes, what is the mattah ? " she 
 asked, in alarm. She sat down on a mossy 
 log, took off the white hat, and looked into the 
 flushed, tearful face. 
 
 " Oh, it makes me so lonesome when you 
 sing that way," wailed the Little Colonel. " I 
 just can't 'tand it ! Mom Beck, is my mothah's 
 heart all broken? Is that why she is sick so 
 much, and will it kill her suah 'nuff ? "
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 19 
 
 'Who's been tellin' you such nonsense?" 
 asked the woman, sharply. 
 
 " Some ladies at the hotel were talkin' about 
 it. They said that gran'fathah didn't love her 
 any moah, an' it was just a-killin' her." Mom 
 Beck frowned fiercely. 
 
 The child's grief was so deep and intense 
 that she did not know just how to quiet her. 
 Then she said, decidedly, " Well, if that's all 
 that's a-troublin' you, you can jus' get down an' 
 walk home on yo' own laigs. Yo' mamma's 
 a-grievin' 'cause yo' papa has to be away all the 
 time. She's all wo'n out, too, with the work 
 of movin', when she's nevah been use to doin' 
 anything*. But her heart isn't broke any 
 moah'n my neck is." 
 
 The positive words 'and the decided toss 
 Mom Beck gave her head settled the matter 
 for the Little Colonel. She wiped her eyes and 
 stood up much relieved. 
 
 " Don't you nevah go to worryin' 'bout what 
 you heahs," continued the woman. " I tell you 
 p'intedly you cyarnt nevah b'lieve what you 
 heahs." 
 
 " Why doesn't gran'fathah love my 
 mothah ? " asked the child, as they came in
 
 2O THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 sight of the cottage. She had puzzled over the 
 knotty problem all the way home. " How 
 can papas not love their little girls ? " 
 
 " 'Cause he's stubbo'n," was the unsatis- 
 factory answer. " All the Lloyds is. Yo' 
 mamma's stubbo'n, an' you's stubbo'n " 
 
 " I'm not ! " shrieked the Little Colonel, 
 stamping her foot. " You sha'n't call me 
 names ! " 
 
 Then she saw a familiar white hand waving 
 to her from the hammock, and she broke away 
 from Mom Beck with very red cheeks and very 
 bright eyes. 
 
 Cuddled close in her mother's arms, she had 
 a queer feeling that she had grown a great deal 
 older in that short afternoon. 
 
 Maybe she had. For the first time in her 
 little life she kept her troubles to herself, and 
 did not once mention the thought that was 
 uppermost in her mind. 
 
 " Yo' great-aunt Sally Tylah is comin' this 
 mawnin'," said Mom Beck, the day after their 
 visit to the hotel. " Do fo' goodness' sake 
 keep yo'self clean. I'se got too many spring 
 chickens to dress to think 'bout dressin' you 
 up again."
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 21 
 
 " Did I evah see her befo' ? " que,stioned the 
 Little Colonel. 
 
 " Why, yes, the day we moved heah. Don't 
 you know she came and stayed so long, and the 
 rockah broke off the little white rockin'-chair 
 when she sat down in it? " 
 
 " Oh, now I know ! " laughed the child. 
 " She's the big fat one with curls hangin' 
 round her yeahs like shavin's. I don't like her, 
 Mom Beck. She keeps a-kissin' me all the 
 time, an' a-'queezin' me, an' tellin' me to sit on 
 her lap an' be a little lady. Mom Beck, I 
 de'pise to be a little lady." 
 
 There was no answer to her last remark. 
 Mom Beck had stepped into the pantry for 
 more eggs for the cake she was making. 
 
 " Fritz," said the Little Colonel, " yo' great- 
 aunt Sally Tylah's comin' this mawnin', an' if 
 you don't want to say ' howdy ' to her you'll 
 have to come with me." 
 
 A few minutes later a resolute little figure 
 squeezed between the palings of the garden 
 fence down by the gooseberry bushes. 
 
 " Now walk on your tiptoes, Fritz ! " com- 
 manded the Little Colonel, " else somebody 
 will call us back."
 
 22 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 Mom Beck, busy with her extra baking, sup- 
 posed she was with her mother on the shady, 
 vine-covered porch. 
 
 She would not have been singing quite so 
 gaily if she could have seen half a mile up the 
 road. 
 
 The Little Colonel was sitting in the weeds 
 by the railroad track, deliberately taking off 
 her shoes and stockings. 
 
 " Just like a little niggah," she said, delight- 
 edly, as she stretched out her bare feet. " Mom 
 Beck says I ought to know bettah. But it does 
 feel so good ! " 
 
 No telling how long she might have sat there 
 enjoying the forbidden pleasure of dragging 
 her rosy toes through the warm dust, if she had 
 not heard a horse's hoof-beats coming rapidly 
 along 1 . 
 
 " Fritz, it's gran'fathah," she whispered, in 
 alarm, recognizing the erect figure of the rider 
 in its spotless suit of white duck. 
 
 " Sh ! lie down in the weeds, quick ! Lie 
 down, I say ! " 
 
 They both made themselves as flat as possi- 
 ble, and lay there panting with the exertion of 
 keeping still.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 23 
 
 Presently the Little Colonel raised her head 
 cautiously. 
 
 " Oh, he's gone down that lane! " she ex- 
 claimed. " Now you can get up." After a 
 moment's deliberation she asked, " Fritz, would 
 you rathah have some 'trawberries an' be tied 
 up fo' runnin' away, or not be tied up and not 
 have any of those nice tas'en 'trawberries?"
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Two hours later, Colonel Lloyd, riding 
 down the avenue under the locusts, was sur- 
 prised by a novel sight on his stately front 
 steps. 
 
 Three little darkies and a big flop-eared 
 hound were crouched on the bottom step, look- 
 ing up at the Little Colonel, who. sat just above 
 them. 
 
 She was industriously stirring something in 
 an old rusty pan with a big, battered spoon. 
 
 " Now, May Lilly," she ordered, speaking to 
 the largest and blackest of the group, " you 
 run an' find some nice 'mooth pebbles to put 
 in for raisins. Henry Clay, you go get me 
 some moah sand. This is 'most too wet." 
 
 " Here, you little pickaninnies ! " roared the 
 
 Colonel, as he recognized the cook's children. 
 
 " What did I tell you about playing around 
 
 here, tracking dirt all over my premises ? You 
 
 24
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 25 
 
 just chase back to the cabin where you be- 
 long! " 
 
 The sudden call startled Lloyd so that she 
 dropped the pan, and the great mud pie turned 
 upside down on the white steps. 
 
 " Well, you're a pretty sight ! " said the 
 Colonel, as he glanced with disgust from her 
 soiled dress and muddy hands to her bare feet. 
 
 He had been in a bad humour all morning. 
 The sight of the steps covered with sand and 
 muddy tracks gave him an excuse to give vent 
 to his cross feelings. 
 
 It was one of his theories that a little girl 
 should always be kept as fresh and dainty as a 
 flower. He had never seen his own little 
 daughter in such a plight as this, and she had 
 never been allowed to step outside of her own 
 room without her shoes and .stockings. 
 
 " What does your mother mean," he cried, 
 savagely, " by letting you run barefooted 
 around the country just like poor white 
 trash? An' what are you playing with low- 
 flung niggers for? Haven't you ever been 
 taught any better ? I suppose it's some of your 
 father's miserable Yankee notions." 
 
 May Lilly, peeping around the corner of the
 
 26 
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 house, rolled her frightened eyes from one 
 angry face to the 
 other. The same 
 temper that glared 
 from the face of the 
 man, sitting erect in 
 his saddle, seemed to 
 be burning in the 
 eyes of the child 
 who stood so 
 defiantly be- 
 fore him. 
 
 The same 
 kind of scowl 
 drew their 
 
 eyebrows together darkly. 
 " Don't you talk that
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 2/ 
 
 way to me," cried the Little Colonel, trembling 
 with a wrath she did not know how to express. 
 
 Suddenly she stooped, Mid snatching both 
 hands full of mud from the overturned pie, 
 flung it wildly over the spotless white coat. 
 
 Colonel Lloyd gasped with astonishment. 
 It was the first time in his life he had ever been 
 openly defied. The next moment his anger 
 gave way to amusement. 
 
 " By George ! " he chuckled, admiringly. 
 " The little thing has got spirit, sure enough. 
 She's a Lloyd through and through. So that's 
 why they call her the ' Little Colonel,' is it? " 
 
 There was a tinge of pride in the look he 
 gave her haughty little head and flashing eyes. 
 
 " There, there, child ! " he said, soothingly. 
 " I didn't mean to make you mad, when you 
 were good enough to come and see me. It isn't 
 often I have a little lady like you to pay me a 
 visit." 
 
 " I didn't come to see you, suh," she an- 
 swered, indignantly, as she started toward the 
 gate. " I came to see May Lilly. But I nevah 
 would have come inside yo' gate if I'd known 
 you was goin' to hollah at me an' be so cross." 
 
 She was walking off with the air of an of-
 
 28 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 fended queen, when the Colonel remembered 
 that if he allowed her to go away in that mood 
 she would probably never set foot on his 
 grounds again. Her display of temper had 
 interested him immensely. 
 
 Now that he had laughed off his ill humour, 
 he was anxious to see what other traits of char- 
 acter she possessed. 
 
 He wheeled his horse across the walk to bar 
 her way, and quickly dismounted. 
 
 " Oh, now, wait a minute," he said, in a 
 coaxing tone. " Don't you want a nice big 
 saucer of strawberries and cream before you 
 go? Walker's picking some now. And you 
 haven't seen my hothouse. It's just full of the 
 loveliest flowers you ever saw. You like roses, 
 don't you, and pinks and lilies and pansies ? " 
 
 He saw he had struck the right chord as 
 soon as he mentioned the flowers. The sullen 
 look vanished as if by magic. -Her face changed 
 as suddenly as an April day. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " she cried, with a beaming 
 smile. " I loves 'm bettah than anything ! " 
 
 He tied his horse, and led the way to the 
 conservatory. He opened the door for her to 
 pass through, and then watched her closely to
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 2Q 
 
 see what impression it would make on her. 
 He had expected a delighted exclamation of 
 surprise, for he had good reason to be proud 
 of his rare plants. They were arranged with 
 a true artist's eye for colour and effect. 
 
 She did not say a word for a moment, but 
 drew a long breath, while the delicate pink in 
 her cheeks deepened and her eyes lighted up. 
 Then she began going slowly from flower to 
 flower, laying her face against the cool, velvety 
 purple of the pansies, touching the roses with 
 her lips, and tilting the white lily-cups to look 
 into their golden depths. 
 
 As she passed from one to another as lightly 
 as a butterfly might have done, she began 
 chanting in a happy undertone. 
 
 Ever since she had learned to talk she had 
 a quaint little way of singing to herself. All 
 the names that pleased her fancy she strung 
 together in a crooning melody of her own. 
 
 There was no special tune. It sounded 
 happy, although nearly always in a minor key. 
 
 " Oh, the jonquils an' the lilies ! " she sang. 
 " All white an' gold an' yellow. Oh, they're 
 all a-smilin' at me, an' a-sayin' howdy! 
 howdy ! "
 
 3O THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 She was so absorbed in her intense enjoy- 
 ment that she forgot all about the old Colonel. 
 She was wholly unconscious that he was watch- 
 ing or listening. 
 
 " She really does love them," he thought, 
 complacently. " To see her face one would 
 think she had found a fortune." 
 
 It was another bond between them. 
 
 After awhile he took a small basket fronr 
 the wall, and began to fill it with his choicest 
 blooms. 
 
 " You shall have these to take home," he 
 said. " Now come into the house and get your 
 strawberries." 
 
 She followed him reluctantly, turning back 
 several times for one more long sniff of the 
 delicious fragrance. 
 
 She was not at all like the Colonel's ideal of 
 what a little girl should be, as she sat in one 
 of the high, stiff chairs, enjoying her straw- 
 berries. Her dusty little toes wriggled around 
 in the curls on Fritz's back, as she used him 
 for a footstool. Her dress was draggled and 
 dirty, and she kept leaning over to give the 
 dog berries and cream from the spoon she was 
 eating with herself.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 3! 
 
 He forgot all this, however, when she began 
 to talk to him. 
 
 " My great-aunt Sally Tylah is to ou' house 
 this mawnin'," she announced, confidentially. 
 " That's why we came off. Do you know my 
 Aunt Sally Tylah?" 
 
 "Well, slightly!" chuckled the Colonel. 
 " She was my wife's half-sister. So you don't 
 like her, eh? Well, I don't like her either." 
 
 He threw back his head and laughed heart- 
 ily. The more the child talked the more enter- 
 taining he found her. He did not remember 
 when he had ever been so amused before as he 
 was by this tiny counterpart of himself. 
 
 When the last berry had vanished, she 
 slipped down from the tall chair. 
 
 " Do you 'pose it's very late? " she asked, in 
 an anxious voice. " Mom Beck will be comin' 
 for me soon." 
 
 '* Yes, it is nearly noon," he answered. " It 
 didn't do much good to run away from your 
 Aunt Tyler; she'll see you after all." 
 
 " Well, she can't 'queeze me an' kiss me, 
 'cause I've been naughty, an' I'll be put to bed 
 like I was the othah day, just as soon as I get 
 home. I 'most wish I was there now," she
 
 32 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 sighed. " It's so fa' an' the sun's so hot. I 
 lost my sunbonnet when I was comin' heah, 
 too." 
 
 Something in the tired, dirty face prompted 
 the old Colonel to say, " Well, my horse hasn't 
 been put away yet. I'll take you home on 
 Maggie Boy." 
 
 The next moment he repented making such 
 an offer, thinking what the neighbours might 
 say if they should meet him on the road with 
 Elizabeth's child in his arm. 
 
 But it was too late. He could not unclasp 
 the trusting little hand that was slipped in his. 
 He could not cloud the happiness of the eager 
 little face by retracting his promise. 
 
 He swung himself into the saddle, with her 
 in front. 
 
 Then he put his one arm around her with 
 a firm clasp, as he reached forward to take the 
 bridle. 
 
 " You couldn't take Fritz on behin', could 
 you?" she asked, anxiously. "He's mighty 
 ti'ed too." 
 
 " No," said the Colonel, with a laugh. 
 " Maggie Boy might object and throw us all 
 off."
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 33 
 
 Hugging her basket of flowers close in her 
 arms, she leaned her head against him con- 
 tentedly as they cantered down the avenue. 
 
 " Look ! " whispered all the locusts, waving 
 their hands to each other excitedly. "Look! 
 The master has his own again. The dear old 
 times are coming back to us." 
 
 " How the trees blow ! " exclaimed the child, 
 looking up at the green arch overhead. " See! 
 They's all a-noddin' to each othah." 
 
 " We'll have to get my shoes an' 'tockin's," 
 she said, presently, when they were nearly 
 home. " They're in that fence cawnah behin' 
 a log." 
 
 The Colonel obediently got down and handed 
 them to her. As he mounted again he saw a 
 carriage coming toward them. He recognized 
 one of his nearest neighbours. Striking the 
 astonished Maggie Boy with his spur, he 
 turned her across the railroad track, down the 
 steep embankment, and into an unfrequented 
 lane. 
 
 " This road is just back of your garden," he 
 said. " Can you get through the fence if I 
 take you there? " 
 
 " That's the way we came out,"" was the
 
 34 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 answer. " See that hole where the palin's are 
 off?" 
 
 Just as he was about to lift her down, she 
 put one arm around his neck, and kissed him 
 softly on the cheek. 
 
 " Good-bye, gran'fatha'," she said, in her 
 most winning way. " I've had a mighty nice 
 time." Then she added, in a lower tone, " Kuse 
 me fo' throwin' mud on yo' coat." 
 
 He held her close a moment, thinking noth- 
 ing had ever before been half so sweet as the 
 way she called him grandfather. 
 
 From that moment his heart went out to her 
 as it had to little Tom arid Elizabeth. It made 
 no difference if her n?otlier had forfeited his 
 love. It made no difference if Jack Sherman 
 was her father, and that the two men heartily 
 hated each other. 
 
 It was his own little grandchild he held in 
 his arms. 
 
 She had sealed the relationship with a trust- 
 ing kiss. 
 
 " Child," he said, huskily, " you will come 
 and see me again, won't you, no matter if they 
 do tell you not to? You shall have all the
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 35 
 
 flowers and berries you want, and you can ride 
 Maggie Boy as often as you please." 
 
 She looked up into his face. It was very 
 familiar to her. She had looked at his por- 
 trait often, unconsciously recognizing a kindred 
 spirit that she longed to know. 
 
 Her ideas of grandfathers, gained from 
 stories and observation, led her to class them 
 with fairy godmothers. She had always 
 wished for one. 
 
 The day they moved to Lloydsborough, Lo- 
 cust had been pointed out to her as her grand- 
 father's home. From that time on she slipped 
 away with Fritz on every possible occasion to 
 peer through the gate, hoping for a glimpse of 
 him. 
 
 " Yes, I'll come suah ! " she promised. " I 
 likes you just lots, gran'fathah ! " 
 
 He watched her scramble through the hole 
 in the fence. Then he turned his horse's head 
 slowly homeward. 
 
 A scrap of white lying on the grass attracted 
 his attention as he neared the gate. 
 
 " It's the lost sunbonnet," he said, with a 
 smile. He carried it into the house, and hung 
 it on the hat-rack in the wide frorjt hall.
 
 36 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 " O'le marse is crosser'n two sticks," growled 
 Walker to the cook at dinner. " There ain't no 
 livin' with him. What do you s'pose is the 
 mattah?"
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MOM BECK was busy putting lunch on the 
 table when the Little Colonel looked in at the 
 kitchen door. 
 
 So she did not see a little tramp, carrying 
 her shoes in one hand, and a basket in the other, 
 who paused there a moment. But when she 
 took up the pan of beaten biscuit she was puz- 
 zled to find that several were missing. 
 
 " It beats my time," she said, aloud. " The 
 parrot couldn't have reached them, an' Lloyd 
 an' the dog have been in the pa'lah all mawnin'. 
 Somethin' has jus' natch'ly done sperrited 'em 
 away." 
 
 Fritz was gravely licking his lips, and the 
 Little Colonel had her mouth full, when they 
 suddenly made their appearance on the front 
 porch. 
 
 Aunt Sally Tyler gave a little shriek, and 
 stopped rocking. 
 
 37
 
 38 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 " Why, Lloyd Sherman ! " gasped her 
 mother, in dismay. " Where have you been ? 
 I thought you were with Becky all the time. 
 I was sure I heard you singing out there a little 
 while ago." 
 
 " I've been to see my gran'fathah," said the 
 child, speaking very fast. " I made mud pies 
 on his front 'teps, an' we both of us got mad, 
 an' I throwed mud on him, an' he gave me 
 some 'trawberries an' all these flowers, an' 
 brought me home on Maggie Boy." 
 
 She stopped out of breath. 
 
 Mrs. Tyler and her niece exchanged as- 
 tonished glances. 
 
 " But, baby, how could you disgrace mother 
 so by going up there looking like a dirty little 
 beggar ? " 
 
 " He didn't care," replied Lloyd, calmly. 
 " He made me promise to come again, no 
 mattah if you all did tell me not to." 
 
 Just then Becky announced that lunch was 
 ready, and carried the child away to make her 
 presentable. 
 
 To Lloyd's great surprise she was not put 
 to bed, but was allowed to go to the table as 
 soon as she was dressed. It was not long until
 
 THE LITTLE COLONE*- 39 
 
 she had told every detail of the morning's ex- 
 perience. 
 
 While she was taking her afternoon nap, the 
 two ladies sat out on the porch, gravely dis- 
 cussing all she had told them. 
 
 " It doesn't seem right for me to allow her 
 to go there," said Mrs. Sherman, " after the 
 way papa has treated us. I can never forgive 
 him for all the terrible things he has said about 
 Jack, and I know Jack can never be friends 
 with him on account of w r hat he has said about 
 me. He has been so harsh and unjust that I 
 don't want my little Lloyd to have anything to 
 do with him. I wouldn't for worlds have him 
 think that I encouraged her going there." 
 
 " Well, yes, I know," answered her aunt, 
 slowly. " But there are some things to con- 
 sider besides your pride, Elizabeth. There's 
 the child herself, you know. Now that Jack 
 has lost so much, and your prospects are so 
 uncertain, you ought to think of her interests. 
 It would be a pity for Locust to go to strangers 
 when it has been in your family for so many 
 generations. That's what it certainly will do 
 unless something turns up to interfere. Old 
 Judge Woodard told me himself that your
 
 4O THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 father had made a will, leaving everything he 
 owns to some medical institution. Imagine 
 Locust being turned into a sanitarium or a 
 training-school for nurses ! " 
 
 " Dear old place ! " said Mrs. Sherman, with 
 tears in her eyes. " No one ever had a happier 
 childhood than I passed under these old locusts. 
 Every tree seems like a friend. I would be 
 glad for Lloyd to enjoy the place as I did." 
 
 " I'd let her go as much as she pleases, Eliza- 
 beth. She's so much like -the old Colonel that 
 they ought to understand each other, and get 
 along capitally. Who knows, it might end in 
 you all making up some day." 
 
 Mrs. Sherman raised her head haughtily. 
 " No, indeed, Aunt Sally. I can forgive and 
 forget much, but you are greatly mistaken if 
 you think I can go to such lengths as that. 
 He closed his doors against me with a curse, 
 for no reason on earth but that the man I 
 loved was born north of the Mason and Dixon 
 line. There never was a nobler man living 
 than Jack, and papa would have seen it if he 
 hadn't deliberately shut his eyes and refused to 
 look at him. He was just prejudiced and stub- 
 born."
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 41 
 
 Aunt Sally said nothing, but her thoughts 
 took the shape of Mom Beck's declaration, 
 " The Lloyds is all stubbo'n." 
 
 " I wouldn't go through his gate now if he 
 got down on his knees and begged me," con- 
 tinued Elizabeth, hotly. 
 
 "It's too bad," exclaimed her aunt; "he 
 was always so perfectly devoted to ' little 
 daughter,' as he used to call you. I don't like 
 him myself. We never could get along to- 
 gether at all, because he is so high-strung and 
 overbearing. But I know it would have made 
 your poor mother mighty unhappy if she could 
 have foreseen all this." 
 
 Elizabeth sat with the tears dropping down 
 on her little white hands, as her aunt proceeded 
 to work on her sympathies in every way she 
 could think of. 
 
 Presently Lloyd came out all fresh and rosy 
 from her long nap, and went to play in the 
 shade of the great beech-trees that guarded 
 the cottage. 
 
 " I never saw a child with such influence 
 over animals," said her mother, as Lloyd came 
 around the house with the parrot perched on 
 the broom she was carrying. " She'll walk
 
 42 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 right up to any strange dog and make friends 
 with it, no matter how savage-looking it is. 
 And there's Polly, so old and cross that she 
 screams and scolds dreadfully if any of us go 
 near her. But Lloyd dresses her up in doll's 
 clothes, puts paper bonnets on her, and makes 
 her just as uncomfortable as she 
 pleases. Look! that is one of 
 her favourite amusements." 
 
 The Little Colonel squeezed 
 the parrot into a tiny doll car- 
 riage, and began 
 to trundle it 
 back and forth 
 as fast as she 
 could run. 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 screamed the bird. " Polly 
 is a lady ! Oh, Lordy ! 
 I'm so happy ! " 
 
 " She caught that from the washerwoman," 
 laughed Mrs. Sherman. " I should think the 
 poor thing would be dizzy from whirling 
 around so fast." 
 
 " Quit that, chillun ; stop yo' fussin'," 
 screamed Polly, as Lloyd grabbed her up and
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 43 
 
 began to pin a shawl around her neck. She 
 clucked angrily, but never once attempted to 
 snap at the dimpled fingers that squeezed her 
 tight. Suddenly, as if her patience was com- 
 pletely exhausted, she uttered a disdainful "Oh, 
 pshaw ! " and flew up into an old cedar-tree. 
 
 " Mothah ! Polly won't play with me any 
 moah," shrieked the child, flying into a rage. 
 She stamped and scowled and grew red in the 
 face. Then she began beating the trunk of the 
 tree with the old broom she had been carrying. 
 
 " Did you ever see anything so much like the 
 old Colonel ? " said Mrs. Tyler, in astonish- 
 ment. " I wonder if she acted that way this 
 morning." 
 
 " I don't doubt it at all," answered Mrs. 
 Sherman. " She'll be over it in just a moment. 
 These little spells never last long." 
 
 Mrs. Sherman was right. In a few moments 
 Lloyd came up the walk, singing. 
 
 " I wish you'd tell me a pink story," she said, 
 coaxingly, as she leaned against her mother's 
 knee. 
 
 " Not now, clear ; don't you see that I am 
 busy talking to Aunt Sally? Run and ask 
 Mom Beck for one."
 
 44 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 " What on earth does she mean by a pink 
 story ? " asked Mrs. Tyler. 
 
 " Oh, she is so fond of colours. She is al- 
 ways asking for a pink or a blue or a white 
 story. She wants everything in the story 
 tinged with whatever colour she chooses, 
 dresses, parasols, flowers, sky, even the icing 
 on the cakes and the paper on the walls." 
 
 " What an odd little thing she is ! " ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Tyler. " Isn't she lots of com- 
 pany for you ? " 
 
 She need not have asked that question if she 
 could have seen them that evening, sitting to- 
 gether in the early twilight. 
 
 Lloyd was in her mother's lap, leaning her 
 head against her shoulder as they rocked slowly 
 back and forth on the dark porch. 
 
 There was an occasional rattle of wheels 
 along the road, a twitter of sleepy birds, a dis- 
 tant croaking of frogs. 
 
 Mom Beck's voice floated in from the 
 kitchen, where she was stepping briskly around. 
 
 " Oh, the clouds hang heavy, an' it's gwine to rain. 
 Fa'well, my dyin' friends." 
 
 she sang.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 45 
 
 Lloyd put her arms closer around her 
 mother's neck. 
 
 " Let's talk about Papa Jack," she said. 
 " What you 'pose he's doin' now, 'way out 
 West." 
 
 Elizabeth, feeling like a tired, homesick child 
 herself, held, her close, and was comforted as 
 she listened to the sweet little voice talking 
 about the absent father. 
 
 The moon came up after awhile, and 
 streamed in through the vines of the porch. 
 The hazel eyes slowly closed as Elizabeth be- 
 gan to hum an old-time negro lullaby. 
 
 " Wondah if she'll run away to-morrow," 
 whispered Mom Beck, as she came out to carry 
 her in the house. 
 
 " Who'd evah think now, lookin' at her 
 pretty, innocent face, that she could be so 
 naughty? Bless her little soul! " 
 
 The kind old black face was laid lovingly a 
 moment against the fair, soft cheek of the Little 
 Colonel. Then she lifted her in her strong 
 arms, and carried her gently away to bed.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SUMMER lingers long among the Kentucky 
 hills. Each passing day seemed fairer than the 
 last to the Little Colonel, who had never before 
 known anything of country life. 
 
 Roses climbed up and almost hid the small 
 white cottage. Red birds sang in the wood- 
 bine. Squirrels chattered in the beeches. She 
 was out-of-doors all day long. 
 
 Sometimes she spent hours watching the ants 
 carry away the sugar she sprinkled for them. 
 Sometimes she caught flies for an old spider 
 that had his den under the porch steps. 
 
 " He is an ogah " (ogre), she explained to 
 Fritz. " He's bewitched me so's I have to kill 
 whole families of flies for him to eat." 
 
 She was always busy and always happy. 
 
 Before June was half over it got to be a 
 
 common occurrence for Walker to ride up to 
 
 the gate on the Colonel's horse. The excuse 
 
 was always to have a passing word with Mom 
 
 4 6
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 47 
 
 Beck. But before he rode away, the Little 
 Colonel was generally mounted in front of him. 
 It was not long before she felt almost as much 
 at home at Locust as she did at the cottage. 
 
 The neighbours began to comment on it after 
 awhile. " He will surely make up with Eliza- 
 beth at this rate," they said. But at the end of 
 the summer the father and daughter had not 
 even had a passing glimpse of each other. 
 
 One day, late in September, as the Little 
 Colonel clattered up and down the hall with 
 her grandfather's spur buckled on her tiny foot, 
 she called back over her shoulder : " Papa 
 Jack's comin' home to-morrow." 
 
 The Colonel paid no attention. 
 
 " I say," she repeated, " Papa Jack's comin' 
 hvine to-morrow." 
 
 " Well," was the gruff response. " Why 
 couldn't he stay where he was ? I suppose you 
 won't want to come here any more after he gets 
 back." 
 
 " No, I 'pose not," she answered, so care- 
 lessly that he was conscious of a very jealous 
 feeling. 
 
 " Chilluns always like to stay with their 
 fathahs when they's nice as my Papa Jack is."
 
 4 8 
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 The old man growled something behind his 
 
 newspaper 
 ': # that she 
 
 not 
 
 morning, thoroughly 
 preparation. 
 
 did 
 
 hear. He 
 have 
 
 been glad to 
 choke this 
 man who had 
 come between 
 him and his 
 only child, and 
 he hated him 
 worse than 
 ever when he 
 realized what 
 a large place 
 he held in 
 Lloyd's little 
 heart. 
 
 She did not go back 
 to Locust the next day, 
 nor for weeks after that. 
 She was up almost as 
 soon as Mom Beck next 
 enjoying the bustle of
 
 THE LITTLE cOLONEL 49 
 
 She had a finger in everything, from polish- 
 ing the silver to turning the ice-cream freezer. 
 
 Even Fritz was scrubbed till he came out of 
 his bath with his curls all white and shining. 
 He was proud of himself, from his silky bangs 
 to the tip of his tasselled tail. 
 
 Just before train-time, the Little Colonel 
 stuck his collar full of late pink roses, and stood 
 back to admire the effect. Her mother came 
 to the door, dressed for the evening. She wore 
 an airy-looking dress of the palest, softest blue. 
 There was a white rosebud caught in her dark 
 hair. A bright colour, as fresh as Lloyd's own, 
 tinged her cheeks, and the glad light in her 
 brown eyes made them unusually brilliant. 
 
 Lloyd jumped up and threw her arms about 
 her. " Oh, mothah," she cried, " you an' Fritz 
 is so bu'ful ! " 
 
 The engine whistled up the road at the cross- 
 ing. " Come, we have just time to get to the 
 station," said Mrs. Sherman, holding out her 
 hand. 
 
 They went through the gate, down the nar- 
 row path that ran beside the dusty road. The 
 train had just stopped in front of the little 
 station when they reached it.
 
 5O THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 A number of gentlemen, coming out from 
 the city to spend Sunday at the hotel, came 
 down the steps. 
 
 They glanced admiringly from the beautiful, 
 girlish face of the mother to the happy child 
 dancing impatiently up and down at her side. 
 They could not help smiling at Fritz as he 
 frisked about in his imposing rose-collar. 
 
 " Why, where's Papa Jack ? " asked Lloyd, 
 in distress, as passenger after passenger stepped 
 down. " Isn't he goin' to come ? " 
 
 The tears were beginning to gather in her 
 eyes, when she saw him in the door of the car ; 
 not hurrying along to meet them as he always 
 used to come, so full of life and vigour, but 
 leaning heavily on the porter's shoulder, look- 
 ing very pale and weak. 
 
 Lloyd looked up at her mother, from whose 
 face every particle of colour had faded. Mrs. 
 Sherman gave a low, frightened cry as she 
 sprang forward to meet him. 
 
 " Oh, Jack! what is the matter? What has 
 happened to you? " she exclaimed, as he took 
 her in his arms. The train had gone on, and 
 they were left alone on the platform. 
 
 " Just a little sick spell," he answered, with
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL $1 
 
 a smile. " We had a fire out at the mines, 
 and I overtaxed myself some. I've had fever 
 ever since, and it has pulled me down consider- 
 ably." 
 
 " I must send somebody for a carriage," she 
 said, looking around anxiously. 
 
 " No, indeed," he protested. " It's only a 
 few steps ; I can walk it as well as not. The 
 sight of you and the baby has made me stronger 
 already." 
 
 He sent a coloured boy on ahead with his 
 valise, and they walked slowly up the path, 
 with Fritz running wildly around them, bark- 
 ing a glad welcome. 
 
 " How sweet and homelike it all looks ! " 
 he said, as he stepped into the hall, where Mom 
 Beck was just lighting the lamps. Then he 
 sank down on the couch, completely exhausted, 
 and wearily closed his eyes. 
 
 The Little Colonel looked at his white face 
 in alarm. All the gladness seemed to have been 
 taken out of the home-coming. 
 
 Her mother was busy trying to make him 
 comfortable, and paid no attention to the dis- 
 consolate little figure wandering about the
 
 52 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 house alone. Mom Beck had gone for the 
 doctor. 
 
 The supper was drying up in the warming- 
 oven. The ice-cream was melting in the 
 freezer. Nobody seemed to care. There was 
 no one to notice the pretty table with its array 
 of flowers and cut glass and silver. 
 
 When Mom Beck came back, Lloyd ate all 
 by herself, and then sat out on the kitchen door- 
 step while the doctor made his visit. 
 
 She was just going mournfully off to bed 
 with an aching lump in her throat, when her 
 mother opened the door. 
 
 " Come tell papa good night," she said. 
 '' He's lots better now." 
 
 She climbed up on the bed beside him, and 
 buried her face on his shoulder to hide the tears 
 she had been trying to keep back all evening. 
 
 " How the child has grown ! " he exclaimed. 
 " Do you notice, Beth, how much plainer she 
 talks? She does not seem at all like the baby 
 I left last spring. Well, she'll soon be six years 
 old, a real little woman. She'll be papa's 
 little comfort." 
 
 The ache in her throat was all gone after
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 53 
 
 that. She romped with Fritz all the time she 
 was undressing. 
 
 Papa Jack was worse next morning. It was 
 hard for Lloyd to keep quiet when the late 
 September sunshine was so gloriously yellow 
 and the whole outdoors seemed so wide awake. 
 
 She tiptoed out of the darkened room where 
 her father lay, and swung on the front gate un- 
 til she saw the doctor riding up on his bay 
 horse. It seemed to her that the day never 
 would pass. 
 
 Mom Beck, rustling around in her best dress 
 ready for church, that afternoon, took pity on 
 the lonesome child. 
 
 " Go get yo' best hat, honey," she said, " an* 
 I'll take you with me." 
 
 It was one of the Little Colonel's greatest 
 pleasures to be allowed to go to the coloured 
 church. 
 
 She loved to listen to the singing, and would 
 sit perfectly motionless while the sweet voices 
 blended like the chords of some mighty organ 
 as they sent the old hymns rolling heavenward. 
 
 Service had already commenced by the time 
 they took their seats. Nearly everybody in the 
 congregation was swaying back and forth in
 
 54 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 time to the mournful melody of " Sinnah, 
 sinnah, where's you boun' ? " 
 
 One old woman across the aisle began clap- 
 ping her hands together, and repeated in a 
 sing-song tone, " Oh, Lordy ! I'm so happy ! " 
 
 " Why, that's just what our parrot says," 
 exclaimed Lloyd, so much surprised that she 
 spoke right out loud. 
 
 Mom Beck put her handkerchief over her 
 mouth, and a general smile went around. 
 
 After that the child was very quiet until the 
 time came to take the collection. She always 
 enjoyed this part of the service more than any- 
 thing else. Instead of passing baskets around, 
 each person was invited to come forward and 
 lay his offering on the table. 
 
 Woolly heads wagged, and many feet kept 
 time to the tune : 
 
 " Oh ! I'se boun' to git to glory. 
 Hallelujah ! Le' me go ! " 
 
 The Little Colonel proudly marched up with 
 Mom Beck's contribution, and then watched the 
 others pass down the aisle. One young girl in 
 a gorgeously trimmed dress paraded up to the
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL $5 
 
 table several times, singing at the top of her 
 voice. 
 
 " Look at that good-fo'-nothin' 
 Lize Richa'ds," whispered Mom 
 Beck's nearest neighbour, with a 
 sniff. " She done got a nickel 
 changed into pennies so she could 
 ma'ch up an' show herself five 
 times." 
 
 It was nearly sundown 
 when they started home. 
 A tall coloured man, 
 wearing a high silk hat 
 and carrying a gold- 
 headed cane, joined them 
 on the way out. 
 
 " Howdy, S i s t a h 
 Po'tah," he said, gravely 
 shaking hands. " That 
 was a fine disco'se we 
 had the pleasuah of 
 listenin' to this evenin'." 
 
 " 'Deed it was, Brothah Fostah," she an- 
 swered. "How's all up yo' way?" 
 
 The Little Colonel, running on after a 
 couple of white butterflies, paid no attention
 
 56 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 to the conversation until she heard her own 
 name mentioned. 
 
 " Mistah Sherman came home last night, I 
 heah." 
 
 " Yes, but not to stay long, I'm afraid. He's 
 a mighty sick man, if I'm any judge. He's 
 down with fevah, regulah typhoid. He 
 doesn't look to me like he's long for this world. 
 What's to become of poah Miss 'Lizabeth if 
 that's the case, is moah'n / know." 
 
 " We mustn't cross the bridge till we come 
 to it, Sistah Po'tah," he suggested. 
 
 " I know that ; but a lookin'-glass broke 
 yeste'day mawnin' when nobody had put fingah 
 on it. An' his picture fell down off the wall 
 while I was sweepin' the pa'lah. Pete said his 
 dawg done howl all night last night, an' I've 
 dremp three times hand runnin' 'bout muddy 
 watah." 
 
 Mom Beck felt a little hand clutch her skirts, 
 and turned to see a frightened little face looking 
 anxiously up at her. 
 
 " Now what's the mattah with you, honey? " 
 she asked. " I'm only a-tellin' Mistah Fostah 
 about some silly old signs my mammy used to 
 believe in. But they don't mean nothin' at all."
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 57 
 
 Lloyd couldn't have told why she was un- 
 happy. She had not understood all that Mom 
 Beck had said, but her sensitive little mind was 
 shadowed by a foreboding of trouble. 
 
 The shadow deepened as the days passed. 
 Papa Jack got worse instead of better. There 
 were times when he did not recognize any one, 
 and talked wildly of things that had happened 
 out at the mines. 
 
 All the long, beautiful October went by, and 
 still he lay in the darkened room. Lloyd wan- 
 dered listlessly from place to place, trying to 
 keep out of the way, and to make as little trou- 
 ble as possible. 
 
 " I'm a real little woman now," she repeated, 
 proudly, whenever she was allowed to pound 
 ice or carry fresh water. " I'm papa's little 
 comfort." 
 
 One cold, frosty evening she was standing in 
 the hall, when the doctor came out of the room 
 and began to put on his overcoat. 
 
 Her mother followed him to take his direc- 
 tions for the night. 
 
 He was an old friend of the family's. Eliza- 
 beth had climbed on his knees many a time 
 when she was a child. She loved this faithful,
 
 58 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 white-haired old doctor almost as dearly as 
 she had her father. 
 
 " My daughter," he said, kindly, laying his 
 hand on her shoulder, " you are wearing your- 
 self out, and will be down yourself if you are 
 not careful. You must have a professional 
 nurse. No telling how long this is going to 
 last. As soon as Jack is able to travel you must 
 have a change of climate." 
 
 Her lips trembled. " We can't afford it, doc- 
 tor," she said. " Jack has been too sick from 
 the very first to talk about business. He always 
 said a woman should not be worried with such 
 matters, anyway. I don't know what arrange- 
 ments he has made out West. For all I know, 
 the little I have in my purse now may be all that 
 stands between us and the poorhouse." 
 
 The doctor drew on his gloves. 
 
 " Why don't you tell your father how mat- 
 ters are? " he asked. 
 
 Then he saw he had ventured a step too far. 
 
 " I believe Jack would rather die than take 
 help from his hands," she answered, drawing 
 herself up proudly. Her eyes flashed. " I 
 would, too, as far as I am concerned myself." 
 
 Then a tender look came over her pale, tired
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 59 
 
 face, as she added, gently, " But I'd do any- 
 thing on earth to help Jack get well." 
 
 The doctor cleared his throat vigorously, 
 and bolted out with a gruff good night. As 
 he rode past Locust, he took solid satisfaction 
 in shaking his fist at the light in an upper 
 window.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE Little Colonel followed her mother to 
 the dining-room, but paused on the threshold 
 as she saw her throw herself into Mom Beck's 
 arms and burst out crying. 
 
 " Oh, Becky ! " she sobbed, " what is going 
 to become of us? The doctor says we must 
 have a professional nurse, and we must go 
 away from: here soon. There are only a few 
 dollars left in my purse, and I don't know what 
 we'll do when they are gone. I just knoiv 
 Jack is going to die, and then I'll die, too, and 
 then what will become of the baby? " 
 
 Mom Beck sat down, and took the trembling 
 form in her arms. 
 
 " There, there ! " she said, soothingly, " have 
 yo' cry out. It will do you good. Poah chile ! 
 all wo'n out with watchin' an' worry. Ne'm 
 min', ole Becky is as good as a dozen nuhses 
 yet. I'll get Judy to come up an' look aftah 
 60
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 6 1 
 
 the kitchen. An' nobody ain' gwine to die, 
 honey. Don't you go to slayin' all you's got 
 befo' you's called on to do it. The good Lawd 
 is goin' to pahvide fo' us same as Abraham." 
 
 The last Sabbath's sermon was still fresh in 
 her mind. 
 
 " If we only hold out faithful, there's boun' 
 to be a ram caught by the ha\vr,s some place, 
 even if we haven't got eyes to cee through the 
 thickets. The Lawd will pahvide whethah it's 
 a burnt offerin' or a meal's vittles. He sho'ly 
 will." 
 
 Lloyd crept away frightened. It seemed 
 suck an awful thing to her to see her mother 
 cry. 
 
 All at once her bright, happy world had 
 changed to such a strange, uncertain place. 
 She felt as if all sorts of terrible things were 
 about to happen. 
 
 She went into the parlour, and crawled into 
 a dark corner under the piano, feeling that 
 there was no place to go for comfort, since the 
 one who had always kissed away her little 
 troubles was so heart-broken herself. 
 
 There was a patter of soft feet across the 
 carpet, and Fritz poked his sympathetic nose
 
 62 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 into her face. She put her arms around him, 
 and laid her head against his curly back with 
 a desolate sob. 
 
 It is pitiful to think how much imaginative 
 children suffer through their wrong conception 
 of things. 
 
 She had seen the little roll of bills in her 
 mother's pocketbook. She had seen how much 
 smaller it grew every time it was taken out to 
 pay for the expensive wines and medicines that 
 had to be bought so often. She had heard her 
 mother tell the doctor that was all that stood 
 between them and the poorhouse. 
 
 There was no word known to the Little Colo- 
 nel that brought such thoughts of horror as 
 the word poorhouse. 
 
 Her most vivid recollection of her life in 
 New York was something that happened a few 
 weeks before they left there. One day in the 
 park she ran away from the maid, who, in- 
 stead of Mom Beck, had taken charge of her 
 that afternoon. 
 
 When the angry woman found her, she 
 frightened her almost into a spasm by telling 
 her what always happened to naughty children 
 who ran away.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 63 
 
 " They take all their pretty clothes off," she 
 said, " and dress them up in old things made 
 of bed-ticking. Then they take'm to the poor- 
 house, where nobody but beggars live. They 
 don't have anything to eat but cabbage and 
 corn-dodger, and they have to eat that out of 
 tin pans. And they just have a pile of straw 
 to sleep in." 
 
 On their way home she had pointed out to 
 the frightened child a poor woman who was 
 grubbing in an ash-barrel. 
 
 " That's the way people get to look who live 
 in poorhouses," she said. 
 
 It was this memory that was troubling the 
 Little Colonel now. 
 
 " Oh, Fritz ! " she whispered, with the tears 
 running down her cheeks, " I can't beah to 
 think of my pretty mothah goin' there. That 
 woman's eyes were all red, an' her hair was jus' 
 awful. She was so bony an' stahved-lookin'. 
 It would jus' kill poah Papa Jack to lie on 
 straw an' eat out of a tin pan. I know it 
 would ! " 
 
 When Mom Beck opened the door, hunting 
 her, the room was so dark that she would have
 
 64 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 gone away if the dog had not come running 
 out from under the piano. 
 
 " You heah, too, chile ? " she asked, in sur- 
 prise. " I have to go down now an' see if I 
 can get Judy to come help to-morrow. Do you 
 think you can undress yo'self to-night?" 
 
 " Of co'se," answered the Little Colonel. 
 Mom Beck was in such a hurry to be off that 
 she did not notice the tremble in the voice that 
 answered her. 
 
 " Well, the can'le is lit in yo' room. So run 
 along now like a nice little lady, an' don't 
 bothah yo' mamma. She got her hands full 
 already." 
 
 " All right," answered the child. 
 
 A quarter of an hour later she stood in her 
 little white nightgown with her hand on the 
 door-knob. 
 
 She opened the door just a crack and peeped 
 in. Her mother laid her finger on her lips, and 
 beckoned silently. In another instant Lloyd 
 was in her lap. She had cried herself quiet in 
 the dark corner under the piano; but there 
 was something more pathetic in her eyes than 
 tears. It was the expression of one who under- 
 stood and sympathized.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 65 
 
 " Oh, mothah," she whispered, " we does 
 have such lots of troubles." 
 
 " Yes, chickabiddy, but I hope they will soon 
 be over now," was the answer, as the anxious 
 face tried to smile bravely for the child's sake. 
 " Papa is sleeping so nicely now he is sure to 
 be better in the morning." 
 
 That comforted the Little Colonel some, but 
 for days she was haunted by the fear of the 
 poorhouse. 
 
 Every time her mother paid out any money 
 she looked anxiously to see how much was still 
 left. She wandered about the place, touching 
 the trees and vines with caressing hands, feel- 
 ing that she might soon have to leave them. 
 
 She loved them all so dearly, every stick 
 and stone, and even the stubby old snowball 
 bushes that never bloomed. 
 
 Her dresses were outgrown and faded but 
 no one had any time or thought to spend on 
 getting her new ones. A little hole began to 
 come in the toe of each shoe. 
 
 She was still wearing her summer simbonnet, 
 although the days were getting frosty. 
 
 She was a proud little thing. It mortified 
 her for any one to see her looking so shabby.
 
 66 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 Still she uttered no word of complaint, for fear 
 of lessening the little amount in the pocketbook 
 that her mother had said stood between them 
 and the poorhouse. 
 
 She sat with her feet tucked under her when 
 any one called. 
 
 " I wouldn't mind bein' a little beggah so 
 much myself," she thought, " but I jus' can't 
 have my bu'ful sweet mothah lookin' like that 
 awful red-eyed woman." 
 
 One day the doctor called Mrs. Sherman out 
 into the hall. " I have just come from your 
 father's," he said. " He is suffering from a 
 severe attack of rheumatism. He is confined 
 to his room, and is positively starving for com- 
 pany. He told me he would give anything in 
 the world to have his little grandchild with 
 him. There were tears in his eyes when he 
 said it, and that means a good deal from him. 
 He fairly idolizes her. The servants have told 
 him she mopes around and is getting thin and 
 pale. He is afraid she will come down with the 
 fever, too. He told me to use any stratagem I 
 liked to get her there. But I think it's better 
 to tell you frankly how matters stand. It will 
 do the child good to have a change, Elizabeth,
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 6/ 
 
 and I solemnly think you ought to let her go, 
 for a week at least." 
 
 " But, doctor, she has never been away from 
 me a single night in her life. She'd die of 
 homesickness, and I know she'll never consent 
 to leave me. Then suppose Jack should get 
 worse " 
 
 " We'll suppose nothing of the kind," he in- 
 terrupted, brusquely. " Tell Becky to pack up 
 her things. Leave Lloyd to me. I'll get her 
 consent without any trouble." 
 
 " Come, Colonel," he called, as he left the 
 house. " I'm going to take you a little ride." 
 
 No one ever knew what the kind old fellow 
 said to her to induce her to go to her grand- 
 father's. 
 
 She came back from her ride looking 
 brighter than she had in a long time. She 
 felt that in some way, although in what way 
 she could not understand, her going would 
 help them to escape the dreaded poorhouse. 
 
 "Don't send Mom Beck wjth me," she 
 pleaded, when the time came to start. " You 
 come with me, mothah." 
 
 Mrs. Sherman had not been past the gate for
 
 68 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 weeks, but she could not refuse the coaxing 
 hands that clung to hers. 
 
 It was a dull, dreary day. There was a chill- 
 ing hint of snow in the damp air. The leaves 
 whirled past them with a mournful rustling. 
 
 Mrs. Sherman turned up the collar of 
 Lloyd's cloak. 
 
 " You must have a new one soon," she said, 
 with a sigh. " Maybe one of mine could .be 
 made over for you. And those poor little 
 shoes ! I must think to send to town for a new 
 pair." 
 
 The walk was over so soon. The Little 
 Colonel's heart beat fast as they came in sight 
 of the gate. She winked bravely to keep back 
 the tears ; for she had promised the doctor not 
 to let her mother see her cry. 
 
 A week seemed such a long time to look 
 forward to. 
 
 She clung to her mother's neck, feeling that 
 she could never give her up so long. 
 
 " Tell me good-bye, baby dear," said Mrs. 
 Sherman, feeling that she could not trust her- 
 self to stay much longer. " It is too cold for 
 you to stand here. Run on, and I'll watch you 
 till you get inside the door."
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 6 9 
 
 The Little Colonel started bravely down the 
 avenue, with Fritz at her heels. Every few 
 
 steps she turned to look back and kiss her 
 hand. 
 
 Mrs. Sherman watched her through a blur of 
 tears. It had been nearly seven years since she
 
 /O THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 had last stood at that old gate. Such a crowd 
 of memories came rushing up! 
 
 She looked again. There was a flutter of a 
 white handkerchief as the Little Colonel and 
 Fritz went up the steps. Then the great front 
 door closed behind them.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THAT early twilight hour just before the 
 lamps were lit was the lonesomest one the 
 Little Colonel had ever spent. 
 
 Her grandfather was asleep up-stairs. There 
 was a cheery wood fire crackling on the hearth 
 of the big fireplace in the hall, but the great 
 house was so still. The corners were full of 
 shadows. 
 
 She opened the front door with a wild long- 
 ing to run away. 
 
 " Come, Fritz," she said, closing the door 
 softly behind her, " let's go down to the gate." 
 
 The air was cold. She shivered as they 
 raced along under the bare branches of the 
 locusts. She leaned against the gate, peering 
 out through the bars. The road stretched 
 white through the gathering darkness in the 
 direction of the little cottage. 
 71
 
 72 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 " Oh, I want to go home so bad ! " she 
 sobbed. " I want to see my motfaah." 
 
 She laid her hand irresolutely on the latch, 
 pushed the gate ajar, and then hesitated. 
 
 " No, I promised the doctah I'd stay," she 
 thought. " He said I could help mothah and 
 Papa Jack, both of 'em, by stayin' heah, an' 
 I'll do it." 
 
 Fritz, who had pushed himself through the 
 partly opened gate to rustle around among the 
 dead leaves outside, came bounding back with 
 something in his mouth. 
 
 " Heah, suh ! " she called. " Give it to 
 me ! " He dropped a small gray kid glove in 
 her outstretched hand. " Oh, it's mothah's ! " 
 she cried. " I reckon she dropped it when she 
 was tellin' me good-bye. Oh, you deah old 
 dog fo' findin' it." 
 
 She laid the glove against her cheek as 
 fondly as if it had been her mother's soft hand. 
 There was something wonderfully comforting 
 in the touch. 
 
 As they walked slowly back toward the 
 house she rolled it up and put it lovingly away 
 in her tiny apron pocket. 
 
 All that week it was a talisman whose touch
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 73 
 
 helped the homesick little soul to be brave and 
 womanly. 
 
 When Maria, the coloured housekeeper, went 
 into the hall to light the lamps, the Little 
 Colonel was sitting on the big fur rug in front 
 of the fire, talking contentedly to Fritz, who 
 lay with his curly head in her lap. 
 
 " You all's goin' to have tea in the Cun'l's 
 room to-night," said Maria. " He tole me to 
 tote it up soon as he rung the bell." 
 
 " There it goes now," cried the child, jump- 
 ing up from the rug. 
 
 She followed Maria up the wide stairs. The 
 Colonel was sitting in a large easy chair, 
 wrapped in a gaily flowered dressing-gown, 
 that made his hair look unusually white by 
 contrast. 
 
 His dark eyes were intently watching the 
 door. As it opened to let the Little Colonel 
 pass through, a very tender smile lighted up 
 his stern face. 
 
 " So you did come to see grandpa after all," 
 he cried, triumphantly. " Come here and give 
 me a kiss. Seems to me you've been staying 
 away a mighty long time." 
 
 As she stood beside him with his arm around
 
 74 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 her, Walker came in with a tray full of 
 dishes. 
 
 " We're going to have a regular little tea- 
 party," said the Colonel. 
 
 Lloyd watched with sparkling eyes as 
 Walker set out the rare old-fashioned dishes. 
 There was a fat little silver sugar-bowl with a 
 butterfly perched on each side to form the 
 handles, and there was a slim, graceful cream- 
 pitcher shaped like a lily. 
 
 " They belonged to your great-great-grand- 
 mother," said the Colonel, " and they're going 
 to be yours some day if you grow up and have 
 a house of your own." 
 
 The expression on her beaming face was 
 worth a fortune to the Colonel. 
 
 When Walker pushed her chair up to the 
 table, she turned to her grandfather with shin- 
 ing eyes. 
 
 " Oh, it's just like a pink story," she cried, 
 clapping her hands. " The shades on the 
 can'les, the icin' on the cake, an' the posies in 
 the bowl, why, even the jelly is that colah, 
 too. Oh, my darlin' little teacup! It's jus' 
 like a pink rosebud ! I'm so glad I came ! " 
 
 The Colonel smiled at the success of his plan.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 75 
 
 In the depths of his satisfaction he even had a 
 plate of quail and toast set down on the hearth 
 for Fritz. 
 
 " This is the nicest pahty I evah was at," 
 remarked the Little Colonel, as Walker helped 
 her to jam the third time. 
 
 Her grandfather chuckled. 
 
 " Blackberry jam always makes me think of 
 Tom," he said. " Did you ever hear what your 
 Uncle Tom did when he was a little fellow in 
 dresses ? " 
 
 She shook her head gravely. 
 
 " Well, the children were all playing hide- 
 and-seek one day. They hunted high and they 
 hunted low after everybody else had been 
 caught, but they couldn't find Tom. At last 
 they began to call, ' Home free ! You can come 
 home free ! ' but he did not come. When he 
 had been hidden so long they were frightened 
 about him, they went to their mother and told 
 her he wasn't to be found anywhere. She 
 looked down the well and behind the fire-boards 
 in the fireplaces. They called and called till 
 they were out of breath. Finally she thought 
 of looking in the big dark pantry where she 
 kept her fruit. There stood Mister Tom. He
 
 76 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 had opened a jar of blackberry jam, and was 
 just going for it with both hands. The jam 
 was all over his face and hair and little ging- 
 ham apron, and even up his wrists. He was 
 the funniest sight I ever saw." 
 
 The Little Colonel laughed heartily at his 
 description, and begged for more stories. Be- 
 fore he knew it he was back in the past with 
 his little Tom and Elizabeth. 
 
 Nothing could have entertained the child 
 more than these scenes he recalled of her 
 mother's childhood. 
 
 " All her old playthings are up in the garret," 
 he said, as they rose from the table. " I'll have 
 them brought down to-morrow. There's a doll 
 I brought her from New Orleans once when 
 she was about your size. No telling what it 
 looks like now, but it was a beauty when it was 
 new." 
 
 Lloyd clapped her hands and spun around 
 the room like a top. 
 
 " Oh, I'm so glad I came ! " she exclaimed 
 for the third time. " What did she call the 
 doll, gran'fathah, do you rernembah? " 
 
 " I never paid much attention to such 
 things," he answered, " but I do remember the
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 77 
 
 name of this one, because she named it for her 
 mother, - Amanthis." 
 
 " Amanthis," repeated the child, dreamily, as 
 she leaned against his knee. " I think that 
 is a lovely name, gran'fathah. I wish they 
 had called me that." She repeated it softly 
 
 several times. " It sounds like the wind 
 a-blowin' through white clovah, doesn't it? " 
 
 " It is a beautiful name to me, my child," 
 answered the old man, laying his hand tenderly 
 on her soft hair, " but not so beautiful ''as the 
 woman who bore it. She was the fairest flower 
 of all Kentucky. There never was another
 
 78 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 lived as sweet and gentle as your Grandmother 
 Amanthis." 
 
 He stroked her hair absently, and gazed into 
 the fire. He scarcely noticed when she slipped 
 away from him. 
 
 She buried her face a moment in the bowl 
 of pink roses. Then she went to the window 
 and drew back the curtain. Leaning her head 
 against the window-sill, she began stringing 
 on the thread of a tune the things that just then 
 thrilled her with a sense of their beauty. 
 
 "Oh, the locus'-trees a-blowin'," she sang, 
 softly. " An' the moon a-shinin' through them. 
 An' the starlight an' pink roses; an' Aman- 
 this an' Amanthis ! " 
 
 She hummed it over and over until Walker 
 had finished carrying the dishes away. 
 
 It was a strange thing that the Colonel's 
 unfrequent moods of tenderness were like those 
 warm days that they call weather breeders. 
 
 They were sure to be followed by a change 
 of atmosphere. This time as the fierce rheu- 
 matic pain came back he stormed at Walker, 
 and scolded him for everything he did and 
 everything he left undone. 
 
 When Maria came up to put Lloyd to bed,
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 79 
 
 Fritz was tearing around the room barking at 
 his shadow. 
 
 "Put that dog out, M'ria!" roared the 
 Colonel, almost crazy with its antics. " Take 
 it down-stairs, and put it out of the house, I 
 say! Nobody but a heathen would let a dog 
 sleep in the house, anyway." 
 
 The homesick feeling began to creep over 
 Lloyd again. She had expected to keep Fritz 
 in her room at night for company. But for 
 the touch of the little glove in her pocket, she 
 would have said something ugly to her grand- 
 father when he spoke so harshly. 
 
 His own ill humour was reflected in her 
 scowl as she followed Maria down the stairs 
 to drive Fritz out into the dark. 
 
 They stood a moment in the open door, after 
 Maria had slapped him with her apron to make 
 him go off the porch. 
 
 " Oh, look at the new moon ! " cried Lloyd, 
 pointing to the slender crescent in the autumn 
 sky. 
 
 " I'se feared to, honey," answered Maria, 
 " less I should see it through the trees. 'That 
 'ud bring me bad luck for a month, suah. I'll
 
 8O THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 go out on the lawn where it's open, an' look at 
 it ovah my right shouldah." 
 
 While they were walking backward down the 
 path, intent on reaching a place where they 
 could have an uninterrupted view of the moon, 
 Fritz sneaked around to the other end of the 
 porch. 
 
 No one was watching. He slipped into the 
 house as noiselessly as his four soft feet could 
 carry him. 
 
 Maria, going through the dark upper hall, 
 with a candle held high above her head and 
 Lloyd clinging to her skirts, did not see a tas- 
 selled tail swinging along in front of her. It 
 disappeared under the big bed when she led 
 Lloyd into the room next the old Colonel's. 
 
 The child felt very sober while she was being 
 put to bed. 
 
 The furniture was heavy and dark. An ugly 
 portrait of a cross old man in a wig frowned at 
 her from over the mantel. The dancing fire- 
 light made his eyes frightfully lifelike. 
 
 The bed was so high she had to climb on a 
 chair to get in. She heard Maria's heavy feet 
 go shuffling down the stairs. A door banged.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 8 1 
 
 Then it was so still she could hear the clock 
 tick in the next room. 
 
 It was the first time in all her life that her 
 mother had not come to kiss her good night. 
 
 Her lips quivered, and a big tear rolled down 
 on the pillow. 
 
 She reached out to the chair beside her bed, 
 where her clothes were hanging, and felt in her 
 apron pocket -for the little glove. She sat up 
 in bed, and looked at it in the dim firelight. 
 Then she held it against her face. " Oh, I 
 want my mothah ! I want my mothah ! " she 
 sobbed, in a heartbroken whisper. 
 
 Laying her head on her knees, she began to 
 cry quietly, but with great sobs that nearly 
 choked her. 
 
 There was a rustling under the bed. She 
 lifted her wet face in alarm. Then she smiled 
 through her tears, for there was Fritz, her own 
 dear dog, and not an unknown horror waiting 
 to grab her. 
 
 He stood on his hind legs, eagerly trying to 
 lap away her tears with his friendly red tongue. 
 
 She clasped him in her arms with an ecstatic 
 hug. " Oh, you're such a comfort ! " she whis- 
 pered. " I can go to sleep now."
 
 82 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 She spread her apron on the bed, and mo- 
 tioned him to jump. With one spring he was 
 beside her. 
 
 It was nearly midnight when the door from 
 the Colonel's room was noiselessly opened. 
 
 The old man stirred the fire gently until it 
 burst into a bright flame. Then he turned to 
 the bed. " You rascal ! " he whispered, look- 
 ing at Fritz, who raised his head quickly with 
 a threatening look in his wicked eyes. 
 
 Lloyd lay with one hand stretched out, hold- 
 ing the dog's protecting paw. The other held 
 something against her tear-stained cheek. 
 
 " What under the sun ! " he thought, as he 
 drew it gently from her fingers. The little 
 glove lay across his hand, slim and aristocratic- 
 looking. He knew instinctively whose it was. 
 " Poor little thing's been crying," he thought. 
 " She wants Elizabeth. And so do I ! And so 
 do I ! " his heart cried out with bitter longing. 
 " It's never been like home since she left." 
 
 He laid the glove back on her pillow, and 
 went to his room. 
 
 " If Jack Sherman should die," he said to 
 himself many times that night, " then she 
 would come home again. Oh, little daughter, 
 little daughter ! why did you ever leave me ? "
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE first thing that greeted the Little Colo- 
 nel's eyes when she opened them next morning 
 was her mother's old doll. Maria had laid it on 
 the pillow beside her. 
 
 It was beautifully dressed, although in a 
 queer, old-fashioned style that seemed very 
 strange to the child. 
 
 She took it up with careful fingers, remem- 
 bering its great age. Maria had warned her 
 not to waken her grandfather, so she admired 
 it in whispers. 
 
 " Jus' think, Fritz," she exclaimed, " this 
 doll has seen my Gran'mothah Amanthis, an' 
 it's named for her. My mothah wasn't any 
 bigger'n me when she played with it. I think 
 it is the loveliest doll I evah saw in my whole 
 life." 
 
 Fritz gave a jealous bark. 
 
 " Sh ! " commanded his little mistress. 
 83
 
 84 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 " Didn't you heah M'ria say, ' Fo' de Lawd's 
 sake don't wake up ole Marse ? ' Why don't 
 you mind ? " 
 
 The Colonel was not in the best of humours 
 after such a wakeful night, but the sight of 
 her happiness made him smile in spite of him- 
 self, when she danced into his room with the 
 doll. 
 
 She had eaten an early breakfast and gone 
 back up-stairs to examine the other toys that 
 were spread out in her room. 
 
 The door between the two rooms was ajar. 
 All the time he was dressing and taking his 
 coffee he could hear her talking to some one. 
 He supposed it was Maria. But as he glanced 
 over his mail he heard the Little Colonel spy- 
 ing, " May Lilly, do you know about Billy 
 Goat Gruff? Do you want me to tell you that 
 story ? " 
 
 He leaned forward until he could look 
 through the narrow opening of the door. Two 
 heads were all he could see, Lloyd's, soft- 
 haired and golden, May Lilly's, covered with 
 dozens of tightly braided little black tails. 
 
 He was about to order May Lilly back to 
 the cabin, when he remembered the scene that
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 85 
 
 followed the last time he had done so. He con- 
 cluded to keep quiet and listen. 
 
 " Billy Goat Gruff was so fat," the story 
 went on, " jus' as fat as gran'fathah." 
 
 The Colonel glanced up with an amused 
 smile at the fine figure reflected in an opposite 
 mirror. 
 
 " Trip-trap, trip-trap, went Billy Goat 
 Gruff's little feet ovah the bridge to the giant's 
 house." 
 
 Just at this point Walker, who was putting 
 things in order, closed the door between the 
 rooms. 
 
 " Open that door, you black rascal ! " called 
 the Colonel, furious at the interruption. 
 
 In his haste to obey, Walker knocked over a 
 pitcher of water that had been left on the floor 
 beside the wash-stand. 
 
 Then the Colonel yelled at him to be quick 
 pbout mopping it up, so that by the time the 
 door was finally opened, Lloyd was finishing 
 her story. 
 
 The Colonel looked in just in time to see her 
 put her hands to her temples, with her fore- 
 fingers protruding from her forehead like 
 horns. She said in a deep voice, as she brand-
 
 86 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 ished them at May Lilly, " With my two long 
 speahs I'll poke yo' eyeballs through yo' 
 yeahs." 
 
 The little darky fell back giggling. " That 
 sut'n'y was like a billy-goat. We had one once 
 that 'ud make a body step around mighty peart. 
 It slip up behine me one mawnin' on the poach, 
 an' fo' awhile I thought my haid was buss open 
 suah. I got up toreckly, though, an' I cotch 
 him, and when I done got through, Mistah 
 Billy-goat feel po'ly moah'n a week. He sut'n'y 
 did." 
 
 Walker grinned, for he had witnessed the 
 scene. 
 
 Just then Maria put her head in at the door 
 to say, " May Lilly, yo' mammy's callin' you." 
 
 Lloyd and Fritz followed her noisily down- 
 stairs. Then for nearly an hour it was very 
 quiet in the great house. 
 
 The Colonel, looking out of the window, 
 could see Lloyd playing hide-and-seek with 
 Fritz under the bare locust-trees. 
 
 When she came in her cheeks were glowing 
 from her run in the frosty air. Her eyes shone 
 like stars, and her face was radiant. 
 
 " See what I've found down in the dead
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL / 
 
 leaves," she cried. " A little blue violet, 
 bloomin' all by itself." 
 
 She brought a tiny cup from the next room, 
 that belonged to the set of doll dishes, and put 
 the violet in it. 
 
 " There! " she said, setting it on the table at 
 her grandfather's elbow. " Now I'll put Aman- 
 this in this chair, where you can look at her, 
 an' you won't get lonesome while I'm playing 
 outdoors." 
 
 He drew her toward him and kissed her. 
 
 " Why, how cold your hands are! " he ex- 
 claimed. " Staying in this warm room all the 
 time makes me forget it is so wintry outdoors. 
 I don't believe you are dressed warmly enough. 
 You ought not to wear sunbonnets this time of 
 year." 
 
 Then for the first time he noticed her out- 
 grown cloak and shabby shoes. 
 
 " What are you wearing these old clothes 
 for? " he said, impatiently. " Why didn't they 
 dress you up when you were going visiting? It 
 isn't showing proper respect to send you off in 
 the oldest things you've got." 
 
 It was a sore point with the Little Colonel. 
 It hurt her pride enough to have to wear old
 
 88 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 clothes without being scolded for it. Besides, 
 she felt that in some way her mother was being 
 blamed for what could not be helped. 
 
 " They's the best I've got," she answered, 
 proudly choking back the tears. " I don't need 
 any new ones, 'cause maybe we'll be goin' away 
 pretty soon." 
 
 " Going away ! " he echoed, blankly. 
 "Where?" 
 
 She did not answer until he repeated the 
 question. Then she turned her back on him, 
 and started toward the door. The tears she 
 was too proud to let him see were running 
 down her face. 
 
 " We's goin' to the poah-house," she ex- 
 claimed, defiantly, " jus' as soon as the money 
 in the pocketbook is used up. It was nearly 
 gone when I came away." 
 
 Here she began to sob, as she fumbled at the 
 door she could not see to open. 
 
 " I'm goin' home to my mothah right now. 
 She loves me if my clothes are old and ugly." 
 
 " Why, Lloyd," called the Colonel, amazed 
 and distressed by her sudden burst of grief. 
 " Come here to grandpa. Why didn't you tell 
 me so before ? "
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 89 
 
 The face, the tone, the outstretched arm, all 
 drew her irresistibly to him. It was a relief to 
 lay her head on his shoulder, and unburden 
 herself of the fear that had haunted her so 
 many days. 
 
 With her arms around his neck, and the 
 precious little head held close to his heart, the 
 old Colonel was in such a softened mood that 
 he would have promised anything to comfort 
 her. 
 
 " There, there," he said, soothingly, stroking 
 her hair with a gentle hand, when she had told 
 him all her troubles. " Don't you worry about 
 that, my dear. Nobody is going to eat out of 
 tin pans and sleep on straw. Grandpa just 
 won't let them." 
 
 She sat up and wiped her eyes on her 
 apron. " But Papa Jack would die befo' he'd 
 take help from you," she wailed. " An' so 
 would mothah. I heard her tell the doctah 
 so." 
 
 The tender expression on the Colonel's face 
 changed to one like flint, but he kept on strok- 
 ing her hair. 
 
 " People sometimes change their minds," he 
 said, grimly. " I wouldn't worry over a little
 
 90 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 thing like that if I were you. Don't you want 
 to run down-stairs and tell M'ria to give you a/ 
 piece of cake? " 
 
 " Oh, yes,' r she exclaimed, smiling up at him. 
 " I'll bring you some, too." 
 
 When the first train went into Louisville that 
 afternoon, Walker was on board with an order 
 in his pocket to one of the largest dry goods 
 establishments in the city. When he came out 
 again that evening, he carried a large box into 
 the Colonel's room. 
 
 Lloyd's eyes shone as she looked into it. 
 There was an elegant fur-trimmed cloak, a 
 pair of dainty shoes, and a muff that she caught 
 up with a shriek of delight. 
 
 " What kind of a thing is this? " grumbled 
 the Colonel, as he took out a hat that had been 
 carefully packed in one corner of the box. " I 
 told them to send the most stylish thing they 
 had. It looks like a scarecrow," he continued, 
 as he set it askew on the child's head. 
 
 She snatched it off to look at it herself. 
 " Oh, it's jus' like Emma Louise Wyfo'd's ! " 
 she exclaimed. " You didn't put it on straight. 
 See! This is the way it goes." 
 
 She climbed up in front of the mirror, and
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 put it on as she had seen Emma Louise wear 
 hers. 
 
 " Well, it's a 
 regular Napoleon 
 hat," exclaimed 
 the Colonel, much 
 pleased. " So little 
 girls nowadays 
 have taken to 
 wearing soldier's 
 caps, have they ? 
 It's right becoming 
 to you with your 
 short hair. Grandpa 
 is real proud of 
 his ' little Colo- 
 nel.' " 
 
 She gave him 
 the military salutej 
 he had taught her, 
 and then ran to 
 throw her arms 
 around him. " Oh, 
 gran'fathah! " she 
 exclaimed between her kisses, " you'se jus' as 
 good as Santa Claus, every bit."
 
 9 2 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 The Colonel's rheumatism was better next 
 day; so much better that toward evening he 
 walked down-stairs into the long drawing- 
 room. The room had not been illuminated in 
 years as it was that night. 
 
 Every wax taper was lighted in the silver 
 candelabra, and the dim old mirrors multiplied 
 their lights on every side. A great wood fire 
 threw a cheerful glow over the portraits and 
 the frescoed ceiling. All the linen covers had 
 been taken from the furniture. 
 
 Lloyd, who had never seen this room except 
 with the chairs shrouded and the blinds down, 
 came running in presently. She was be- 
 wildered at first by the change. Then she 
 began walking softly around the room, exam- 
 ining everything. 
 
 In one corner stood a tall, gilded harp that 
 her grandmother had played in her girlhood. 
 The heavy cover had kept it fair and untar- 
 nished through all the years it had stood un- 
 used. To the child's beauty-loving eyes it 
 seemed the loveliest thing she had ever seen. 
 
 She stood with her hands clasped behind her 
 as her gaze wandered from its pedals to the
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 93 
 
 graceful curves of its tall frame. It shone like 
 burnished gold in the soft firelight. 
 
 " Oh, gran'fathah ! " she asked at last in a 
 low, reverent tone, " where did you get it ? 
 Did an angel leave it heah fo' you ? " 
 
 He did not answer for a moment. Then he 
 said, huskily, as he looked up at a portrait over 
 the mantel, " Yes, my darling, an angel did 
 leave it here. She always was one. Come here 
 to grandpa." 
 
 He took her on his knee, and pointed up to 
 the portrait. The same harp was in the pic- 
 ture. Standing beside it, with one hand rest- 
 ing on its shining strings, was a young girl all 
 in white. 
 
 " That's the way she looked the first time I 
 ever saw her," said the Colonel, dreamily. " A 
 June rose in her hair, and another at her throat ; 
 and her soul looked right out through those 
 great, dark eyes the purest, sweetest soul 
 God ever made ! My beautiful Amanthis ! " 
 
 " My bu'ful Amanthis! " repeated the child, 
 in an awed whisper. 
 
 She sat gazing into the lovely young face for 
 a long time, while the old man seemed lost in 
 dreams.
 
 94 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 " Gran'fathah," she said at length, patting 
 his cheek to attract his attention, and then 
 nodding toward the portrait, " did she love my 
 mothah like my mothah loves me?" 
 
 " Certainly, my dear," was the gentle reply. 
 
 It was the twilight hour, when the homesick 
 feeling always came back strongest to Lloyd. 
 
 " Then I jus' know that if my bu'ful gran'- 
 mothah Amanthis could come down out of that 
 frame, she'd go straight and put her arms 
 around my mothah an' kiss away all her sorry 
 feelin's." 
 
 The Colonel fidgeted uncomfortably in his 
 chair a moment. Then to his great relief the 
 tea-bell rang.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 EVERY evening after that during Lloyd's 
 visit the fire burned on the hearth of the long 
 drawing-room. All the wax candles were 
 lighted, and the vases were kept full of flowers, 
 fresh from the conservatory. 
 
 She loved to steal into the room before her 
 grandfather came down, and carry on imagi- 
 nary conversations with the old portraits. 
 
 Tom's handsome, boyish face had the great- 
 est attraction for her. His eyes looked down 
 so smilingly into hers that she felt he surely 
 understood every word she said to him. 
 
 Once Walker overheard her saying, " Uncle 
 Tom, I'm goin' to tell you a story 'bout Billy 
 Goat Gruff." 
 
 Peeping into the room, he saw the child look- 
 ing earnestly up at the picture, with her hands 
 clasped behind her, as she began to repeat her 
 favourite story. " It do beat all," he said to 
 95
 
 96 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 himself, " how one little chile like that can wake 
 up a whole house.' She's the life of the place." 
 
 The last evening of her visit, as the Colonel 
 was coming' down-stairs he heard the faint 
 vibration of a harp-string. It was the first time 
 Lloyd had ever ventured to touch one. He 
 paused on the steps opposite the door, and 
 looked in. 
 
 " Heah, Fritz," she was saying, " you get 
 up on the sofa, an' be the company, an' I'll sing 
 fo' you." 
 
 Fritz, on the rug before the fire, opened one 
 sleepy eye and closed it again. She stamped 
 her foot, and repeated her order. He paid no 
 attention. Then she picked him up bodily, and, 
 with much puffing and pulling, lifted him into 
 a chair. 
 
 He waited until she had gone back to the 
 harp, and then, with one spring, disappeared 
 under the sofa. 
 
 " N'm min'," she said, in a disgusted tone. 
 " I'll pay you back, mistah." Then she looked 
 up at the portrait. " Uncle Tom," she said, 
 "you be the company, an' I'll play fo' you." 
 
 Her fingers touched the strings so lightly 
 that there was no discord in the random tones.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL
 
 98 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 Her voice carried the air clear and true, and the 
 faint trembling of the harp-strings interfered 
 with the harmony no more than if a wandering 
 breeze had been tangled in them as it passed. 
 
 " Sing me the songs that to me were so deah 
 
 Long, long ago, long ago. 
 Tell me the tales I delighted to heah 
 Long, long ago, long ago." 
 
 The sweet little voice sang it to the end 
 without missing a word. It was the lullaby her 
 mother oftenest sang to her. 
 
 The Colonel, who had sat down on the steps 
 to listen, wiped his eyes. 
 
 " My ' long ago ' is all that I have left to 
 me," he thought, bitterly, " for to-morrow this 
 little one, who brings back my past with every 
 word and gesture, will leave me, too. Why 
 can't that Jack Sherman die while he's about 
 it, and let me have my own back again? " 
 
 That question recurred to him many times 
 during the week after Lloyd's departure. He 
 missed her happy voice at every turn. He 
 missed her bright face at the table. The house 
 seemed so big and desolate without her. He 
 ordered all the covers put back on the drawing-
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 99 
 
 room furniture, and the door locked as be- 
 fore. 
 
 It was a happy moment for the Little Colonel 
 when she was lifted down from Maggie Boy at 
 the cottage gate. 
 
 She went dancing into the house, so glad to 
 find herself in her mother's arms that she for- 
 got all about the new cloak and muff that had 
 made her so proud and happy. 
 
 She found her father propped up among the 
 pillows, his fever all gone, and the old mis- 
 chievous twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 He admired her new clothes extravagantly, 
 paying her joking compliments until her face 
 beamed; but when she had danced off to find 
 Mom Beck, he turned to his wife. " Eliza- 
 beth," he said, wonderingly, " what do you 
 suppose the old fellow gave her clothes for? 
 I don't like it. I'm no beggar if I have lost 
 lots of money. After all that's passed between 
 us I don't feel like taking anything from his 
 hands, or letting my child do it, either." 
 
 To his great surprise she laid her head down 
 on his pillow beside his and burst into tea'rs. 
 
 " Oh, Jack," she sobbed, " I spent the last 
 dollar this morning. I wasn't going to tell you,
 
 IOO THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 but I don't know what is to become of us. He 
 gave Lloyd those things because she was just in 
 rags, and I couldn't afford to get anything 
 new." 
 
 He looked perplexed. " Why, I brought 
 home so much," he said, in a distressed tone. 
 " I knew I was in for a long siege of sickness, 
 but I was sure there was enough to tide us over 
 that." 
 
 She raised her head. " You brought money 
 home!" she replied, in surprise. "I hoped 
 you had, and looked through all your things, 
 but there was only a little change in one of your 
 pockets. You must have imagined it when you 
 were delirious." 
 
 " What ! " he cried, sitting bolt upright, and 
 then sinking weakly back among the pillows. 
 " You poor child ! You don't mean to tell me 
 you have been skimping along all these weeks 
 on just that check I sent you before starting 
 home." 
 
 " Yes," she sobbed, her face still buried in 
 the pillow. She had borne the strain of con- 
 tinued anxiety so long that she could not stop 
 her tears, now they had once started. 
 
 It was with a very thankful heart she
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL IOI 
 
 watched him take a pack of letters from the 
 coat she brought to his bedside, and draw out 
 a sealed envelope. 
 
 " Well, I never once thought of looking 
 among those letters for money," she exclaimed, 
 as he held it up with a smile. 
 
 His investments of the summer before had 
 prospered beyond his greatest hopes, he told 
 her. " Brother Rob is looking after my inter- 
 ests out West, as well as his own," he ex- 
 plained, " and as his father-in-law is the grand 
 mogul of the place, I have the inside track. 
 Then that firm I went security for in New York 
 is nearly on its feet again, and I'll have back 
 every dollar I ever paid out for them. Nobody 
 ever lost anything by those men in the long 
 run. We'll be on top again by this time next 
 year, little wife; so don't borrow any more 
 trouble on that score." 
 
 The doctor made his last visit that afternoon. 
 It really seemed as if there would never be any 
 more dark days at the little cottage. 
 
 " The clouds have all blown away and left 
 us their silver linings," said Mrs. Sherman the 
 day her husband was able to go out-of-doors 
 for the first time. He walked down to the post-
 
 IO2 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 office, and brought back a letter from the West. 
 It had such encouraging reports of his business 
 that he was impatient to get back to it. He 
 wrote a reply early in the afternoon, and in- 
 sisted on going to mail it himself. 
 
 " I'll never get my strength back," he pro- 
 tested, " unless I have more exercise." 
 
 It was a cold, gray November day. A 
 few flakes of snow were falling when he 
 started. 
 
 " I'll stop and rest at the Tylers'," he called 
 back, " so don't be uneasy if I'm out some 
 time." 
 
 After he left the post-office the fresh air 
 tempted him to go farther than he had in- 
 tended. At a long distance from his home his 
 strength seemed suddenly to desert him. The 
 snow began to fall in earnest. Numb with cold, 
 he groped his way back to the house, almost 
 fainting from exhaustion. 
 
 Lloyd was blowing soap-bubbles when she 
 saw him come in and fall heavily across the 
 couch. The ghastly pallor of his face and his 
 closed eyes frightened her so that she dropped 
 the little clay pipe she was using. As she 
 stooped to pick up the broken pieces, her
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 1 03 
 
 mother's cry startled her still more. " Lloyd, 
 run call Becky, quick, quick ! Oh, he's dy- 
 ing!" 
 
 Lloyd gave one more terrified look and ran 
 to the kitchen, screaming for Mom Beck. No 
 one was there. 
 
 The next instant she was running bareheaded 
 as fast as she could go, up the road to Locust. 
 She was confident of finding help there. 
 
 The snowflakes clung to her hair and blew 
 against her soft cheeks. All she could see was 
 her mother wringing her hands, and her 
 father's white face. When she burst into the 
 house where the Colonel sat reading by the 
 fire, she was so breathless at first that she could 
 only gasp when she tried to speak. 
 
 " Come quick ! " she cried. " Papa Jack's 
 a-dyin' ! Come stop him ! " 
 
 At her first impetuous words the Colonel was 
 on his feet. She caught him by the hand and 
 led him to the door before he fully realized 
 what she wanted. Then he drew back. She 
 was impatient at the slightest delay, and only 
 half answered his questions. 
 
 " Oh, come, gran'fathah ! " she pleaded. 
 " Don't wait to talk ! " But he held her until
 
 IO4 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 he had learned all the circumstances. He was 
 convinced by what she told him that both Lloyd 
 and her mother were unduly alarmed. When 
 he found that no one had sent for him, but that 
 the child had come of her own accord, he re- 
 fused to go. 
 
 He did not believe that the man was dying, 
 and he did not intend to step aside one inch 
 from the position he had taken. For seven 
 years he had kept the vow he made when he 
 swore to be a stranger to his daughter. He 
 would keep it for seventy times seven years if 
 need be. 
 
 She looked at him perfectly bewildered. She 
 had been so accustomed to his humouring her 
 slightest whims, that it had never occurred to 
 her he would fail to help in a time of such dis- 
 tress. 
 
 " Why, gran'fathah," she began, her lips 
 trembling piteously. Then her whole expres- 
 sion changed. Her face grew startlingly white, 
 and her eyes seemed so big and black. The 
 Colonel looked at her in surprise. He had 
 never seen a child in such a passion before. 
 " I hate you ! I hate you ! " she exclaimed, 
 all in a tremble. " You's a cruel, wicked man.
 
 THE*LITTLE COLONEL IO5 
 
 I'll nevah come heah again, nevah ! nevah ! 
 nevah ! " 
 
 The tears rolled down her cheeks as she 
 banged the door behind her and ran down the 
 avenue, her little heart so full of grief and dis- 
 appointment that she felt she could not possi- 
 bly bear it. 
 
 For more than an hour the Colonel walked 
 up and down the room, unable to shut out the 
 anger and disappointment of that little face. 
 
 He knew she was too much like himself ever 
 to retract her words. She would never come 
 back. He never knew until that hour how 
 much he loved her, or how much she had come 
 to mean in his life. She was gone hopelessly 
 beyond recall, unless 
 
 He unlocked the door of the drawing-room 
 and went in. A faint breath of dried rose- 
 leaves greeted him. He walked over to the 
 empty fireplace and looked up at the sweet face 
 of the portrait a long time. Then he leaned 
 his arm on the mantel and bowed his head on 
 it. " Oh, Amanthis," he groaned, " tell me 
 what to do." 
 
 Lloyd's own words came oack to him. 
 " She'd go right straight an' put her arms
 
 to6 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 around my mothah an' kiss away all the sorry 
 feelin's." 
 
 It was a long time he stood there. The bat- 
 tle between his love and pride was a hard one. 
 At last he raised his head and saw that the 
 short winter day was almost over. Without 
 waiting to order his horse he started off in the 
 falling snow toward the cottage.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A GOOD many forebodings crowded into the 
 Colonel's mind as he walked hurriedly on. He 
 wondered how he would be received. What if 
 Jack Sherman had died after all? What if 
 Elizabeth should refuse to see him? A dozen 
 times before he reached the gate he pictured to 
 himself the probable scene of their meeting. 
 
 He was out of breath and decidedly disturbed 
 in mind when he walked up the path. As he 
 paused on the porch steps, Lloyd came running 
 around the house carrying her parrot on a 
 broom. 
 
 Her hair was blowing around her rosy face 
 under the Napoleon hat she wore, and she was 
 singing. 
 
 The last two hours had made a vast change 
 in her feelings. Her father had only fainted 
 from exhaustion. 
 
 When she came running back from Locust, 
 107
 
 IO8 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 she was afraid to go in the house, lest what she 
 dreaded most had happened while she was 
 gone. She opened the door timidly and peeped 
 in. Her father's eyes were open. Then she 
 heard him speak. She ran into the room, and, 
 burying her head in her mother's lap, sobbed 
 out the story of her visit to Locust. 
 
 To her great surprise her father began to 
 laugh, and laughed so heartily as she repeated 
 her saucy speech to her grandfather, that it 
 took the worst sting out of her disappointment. 
 
 All the time the Colonel had been fighting 
 his pride among the memories of the dim old 
 drawing-room, Lloyd had been playing with 
 Fritz and Polly. 
 
 Now as she came suddenly face to face with 
 her grandfather, she dropped the disgusted 
 bird in the snow, and stood staring at him 
 with startled eyes. If he had fallen out of the 
 sky she could not have been more astonished. 
 
 " Where is your mother, child ? " he asked, 
 trying to speak calmly. With a backward look, 
 as if she could not believe the evidence of her 
 own sight, she led the way into the hall. 
 
 " Mothah ! Mothah ! " she called, pushing 
 open the parlour door. " Come heah, quick ! "
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL lOQ 
 
 The Colonel, taking the hat from his white 
 head, and dropping it on the floor, took an 
 expectant step forward. There was a slight 
 rustle, and Elizabeth stood in the doorway. 
 For just a moment they looked into each other's 
 faces. Then the Colonel held out his arm. 
 
 " Little daughter," he said, in a tremulous 
 voice. The love of a lifetime seemed to tremble 
 in those two words. 
 
 In an instant her arms were around his neck, 
 and he was " kissing away the sorry feelin's " 
 as tenderly as the lost Amanthis could have 
 done. 
 
 As soon as Lloyd began to realize what was 
 happening, her face grew radiant. She danced 
 around in such excitement that Fritz barked 
 wildly. 
 
 " Come an' see Papa Jack, too," she cried, 
 leading him into the next room. 
 
 Whatever deep-rooted prejudices Jack Sher- 
 man may have had, they were unselfishly put 
 aside after one look into his wife's happy face. 
 
 He raised himself on his elbow as the digni- 
 fied old soldier crossed the room. The .white 
 hair, the empty sleeve, the remembrance of all 
 the old man had lost, and the thought that
 
 IIO THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 after all he was Elizabeth's father, sent a very 
 tender feeling through the younger man's 
 heart. 
 
 " Will you take my hand, sir ? " he asked, 
 sitting up and offering it in his straightforward 
 way. 
 
 " O'f co'se he will ! " exclaimed Lloyd, who 
 still clung to her grandfather's arm. " Of co'se 
 he will!" 
 
 " I have been too near death to harbour ill 
 will any longer," said the younger man, as their 
 hands met in a strong, forgiving clasp. 
 
 The old Colonel smiled grimly. 
 
 " I had thought that even death itself could 
 not make me give in," he said, " but I've had 
 to make a complete surrender to the Little 
 Colonel." 
 
 That Christmas there was such a celebration 
 at Locust that May Lilly and Henry Clay 
 nearly went wild in the general excitement of 
 the preparation. Walker hung up cedar and 
 holly and mistletoe till the big house looked 
 like a bower. Maria bustled about, airing 
 rooms and bringing out stores of linen and 
 silver.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL I 1 1 
 
 The Colonel himself filled the great punch- 
 bowl that his grandfather had brought from 
 Virginia. 
 
 " I'm glad we're goin' to stay heah to-night," 
 said Lloyd, as she hung up her stocking Christ- 
 mas Eve. " It will be so much easiah fo' Santa 
 Claus to get down these big chimneys." 
 
 In the morning when she found four tiny 
 stockings hanging beside her own, overflowing 
 with candy for Fritz, her happiness was com- 
 plete. 
 
 That night there was a tree in the drawing- 
 room that reached to the frescoed ceiling. 
 When May Lilly came in to admire it and get 
 her share from its loaded branches, Lloyd came 
 skipping up to her. " Oh, I'm goin' to live 
 heah all wintah," she cried. " Mom Beck's 
 goin' to stay heah with me, too, while mothah 
 an' Papa Jack go down South where the alliga- 
 tahs live. Then when they get well an' come 
 back, Papa Jack is goin' to build a house on the 
 othah side of the lawn. I'm to live in both 
 places at once ; mothah said so." 
 
 There were music and light, laughing voices 
 and happy hearts in the old home that night. 
 It seemed as if the old place had awakened
 
 112 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 from a long dream and found itself young 
 again. 
 
 The plan the Little Colonel unfolded to May 
 Lilly was carried out in every detail. It seemed 
 a long winter to the child, but it was a happy 
 one. There were not so many displays of tem- 
 per now that she was growing older, but the 
 letters that went southward every week were 
 full of her odd speeches and mischievous 
 pranks. The old Colonel found it hard to re- 
 fuse her anything. If it had not been for Mom 
 Beck's decided ways, the child would have been 
 sadly spoiled. 
 
 At last the spring came again. The pewees 
 sang in the cedars. The dandelions sprinkled 
 the roadsides like stars. The locust-trees 
 tossed up the white spray of their fragrant 
 blossoms with every wave of their green 
 boughs. 
 
 " They'll soon be heah ! They'll soon be 
 heah ! " chanted the Little Colonel every day. 
 
 The morning they came she had been down 
 the avenue a dozen times to look for them 
 before the carriage had even started to meet 
 them.
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL 11$ 
 
 " Walkah," she called, " cut me a big locus' 
 bough. I want to wave it fo' a flag ! " 
 
 Just as he dropped a branch down at her feet, 
 she caught the sound of wheels. " Hurry, 
 gran'fathah," she called; " they's comin'." But 
 the old Colonel had already started on toward 
 the gate to meet them. The carriage stopped, 
 and in a moment more Papa Jack was tossing 
 Lloyd up in his arms, while the old Colonel 
 was helping Elizabeth to alight. 
 
 " Isn't this a happy mawnin' ? " exclaimed 
 the Little Colonel, as she leaned from her seat 
 on her father's shoulder to kiss his sunburned 
 cheek. 
 
 " A very happy morning," echoed her grand- 
 father, as he walked on toward the house with 
 Elizabeth's hand clasped close in his own. 
 
 Long after they had passed up the steps the 
 old locusts kept echoing the Little Colonel's 
 words. Years ago they had showered their 
 fragrant blossoms in this same path to make 
 a sweet white way for Amanthis's little feet 
 to tread when the Colonel brought home his 
 bride. 
 
 They had dropped their tribute on the coffin- 
 lid when Tom was carried home under their
 
 114 THE LITTLE COLONEL 
 
 drooping branches. The soldier-boy had loved 
 them so, that a little cluster had been laid on 
 the breast of the gray coat he wore. 
 
 Night and day they had guarded this old 
 home like silent sentinels that loved it well. 
 
 Now, as they looked down on the united 
 family, a thiill passed through them to their 
 remotest bloom-tipped branches. 
 
 It sounded only like a faint rustling of leaves, 
 but it was the locusts whispering together. 
 " The children have come home at last," they 
 kept repeating. "What a happy morning! 
 Oh, what a happy morning ! " 
 
 THE END.
 
 THE GIANT SCISSORS
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. IN THE PEAR-TREE . . . .11 
 
 II. A NEW FAIRY TALE .... 26 
 
 III. BEHIND THE GREAT GATE ... 47 
 
 IV. A LETTER AND A MEETING ... 65 
 V. A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE ... 80 
 
 VI. JOYCE PLAYS GHOST .... 100 
 
 VII. OLD "NUMBER THIRTY-ONE" . . 120 
 
 VIII. CHRISTMAS PLANS AND AN ACCIDENT . 139 
 
 IX. A GREAT DISCOVERY . . . . 155 
 
 X. CHRISTMAS 174
 
 JULKS.
 
 THE GATE OF THE GIANT 
 SCISSORS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN THE PEAR-TREE. 
 
 JOYCE was crying, up in old Monsieur Ore*- 
 villa's tallest pear-tree. She had gone down 
 to the farthest corner of the garden, out of 
 sight of the house, for she did not want any 
 one to know that she was miserable enough 
 to cry. 
 
 She was tired of the garden with the high 
 stone wall around it, that made her feel like a 
 prisoner; she was tired of French verbs and 
 foreign faces ; she was tired of France, and so 
 homesick for her mother and Jack and Holland 
 and the baby, that she couldn't help crying.
 
 12 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 No wonder, for she was only twelve years old, 
 and she had never been out of the little West- 
 ern village where she was born, until the day 
 she started abroad with her Cousin Kate. 
 
 Now she sat perched up on a limb in a dis- 
 mal bunch, her chin in her hands and her 
 elbows on her knees. It was a gray afternoon 
 in November ; the air was frosty, although the 
 laurel-bushes in the garden were all in bloom. 
 
 "I s'pect there is snow on the ground at 
 home," thought Joyce, "and there's a big, 
 cheerful fire in the sitting-room grate. 
 
 " Holland and the baby are shelling corn, and 
 Mary is popping it. Dear me ! I can smell it 
 just as plain ! Jack will be coming in from the 
 post-office pretty soon, and maybe he'll have 
 one of my letters. Mother will read it out 
 loud, and there they'll all be, thinking that I 
 am having such a fine time; that it is such a 
 grand thing for me to be abroad studying, and 
 having dinner served at night in so many 
 courses, and all that sort of thing. They 
 don't know that I am sitting up here in this 
 pear-tree, lonesome enough to die. Oh, if I 
 could only go back home and see them for 
 even five minutes," she sobbed, " but I can't !
 
 IN THE PEAR-TREE. 1 3 
 
 I can't ! There's a whole wide ocean between 
 us!" 
 
 She shut her eyes, and leaned back against 
 the tree as that desolate feeling of homesick- 
 ness settled over her like a great miserable 
 ache. Then she found that shutting her eyes, 
 and thinking very hard about the little brown 
 house at home, seemed to bring it into plain 
 sight. It was like opening a book, and seeing 
 picture after picture as she turned the pages. 
 
 There they were in the kitchen, washing 
 dishes, she and Mary ; and Mary was stand- 
 ing on a soap-box to make her tall enough to 
 handle the dishes easily. How her funny little 
 braid of yellow hair bobbed up and down as she 
 worked, and how her dear little freckled face 
 beamed, as they told stories to each other to 
 make the work seem easier. 
 
 Mary's stories all began the same way : " If 
 I had a witch with a wand, this is what we 
 would do." The witch with a wand had come 
 to Joyce in the shape of Cousin Kate Ware, 
 and that coming was one of the pictures that 
 Joyce could see now, as she thought about it 
 with her eyes closed. 
 
 There was Holland swinging on the gate,
 
 14 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 waiting for her to come home from school, and 
 trying to tell her by excited gestures, long 
 before she was within speaking distance, that 
 some one was in the parlor. The baby had on 
 his best plaid kilt and new tie, and the tired 
 little mother was sitting talking in the parlor, 
 an unusual thing for her. Joyce could see her- 
 self going up the path, swinging her sun-bonnet 
 by the strings and taking hurried little bites of 
 a big June apple in order to finish it before 
 going into the house. Now she was sitting on 
 the sofa beside Cousin Kate, feeling very awk- 
 ward and shy with her little brown fingers 
 clasped in this stranger's soft white hand. 
 She had heard that Cousin Kate was a very 
 rich old maid, who had spent years abroad, 
 studying music and languages, and she had 
 expected to see a stout, homely woman with 
 bushy eyebrows, like Miss Teckla Schaum, 
 who played the church organ, and taught 
 German in the High School. 
 
 But Cousin Kate was altogether unlike Miss 
 Teckla. She was tall and slender, she was 
 young-looking and pretty, and there was a 
 stylish air about her, from the waves of her 
 soft golden brown hair to the bottom of her
 
 IN THE PEAR-TREE. 15 
 
 tailor-made gown, that was not often seen in 
 this little Western village. 
 
 Joyce saw herself glancing admiringly at 
 Cousin Kate, and then pulling down her dress 
 as far as possible, painfully conscious that her 
 shoes were untied, and white with dust. The 
 next picture was several days later. She and 
 Jack were playing mumble-peg outside under 
 the window by the lilac-bushes, and the little 
 mother was just inside the door, bending over 
 a pile of photographs that Cousin Kate had 
 dropped in her lap. Cousin Kate was saying, 
 "This beautiful old French villa is where I 
 expect to spend the winter, Aunt Emily. 
 These are views of Tours, the town that lies 
 across the river Loire from it, and these are 
 some of the chateaux near by that I intend to 
 visit. They say the purest French in the 
 world is spoken there. I have prevailed on 
 one of the dearest old ladies that ever lived to 
 give me rooms with her. She and her husband 
 live all alone in this big country place, so I 
 shall have to provide against loneliness by tak- 
 ing my company with me. Will you let me 
 have Joyce for a year ? " 
 
 Jack and she stopped playing in sheer
 
 1 6 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 ishment, while Cousin Kate went on to explain 
 how many advantages she could give the little 
 girl to whom she had taken such a strong fancy. 
 
 Looking through the lilac -bushes, Joyce 
 could see her mother wipe her eyes and say, 
 " It seems like pure providence, Kate, and I 
 can t stand in the child's way. She'll have to 
 support herself soon, and ought to be prepared 
 for it ; but she's the oldest of the five, you 
 know, and she has been like my right hand 
 ever since her father died. There'll not be a 
 minute while she is gone, that I shall not miss 
 her and wish her back. She's the life and sun- 
 shine of the whole home." 
 
 Then Joyce could see the little brown house 
 turned all topsy-turvy in the whirl of prepa- 
 ration that followed, and the next thing, she 
 was standing on the platform at the station, 
 with her new steamer trunk beside her. Half 
 the town was there to bid her good-by. In 
 the excitement of finding herself a person of 
 such importance she forgot how much she was 
 leaving behind her, until looking up, she saw a 
 tender, wistful smile on her mother's face, sad- 
 der than any tears. 
 
 Luckily the locomotive whistled just then,
 
 WHERE JOYCE LIVED.
 
 IN THE PEAR-TREE. 19 
 
 and the novelty of getting aboard a train for 
 the first time, helped her to be brave at the 
 parting. She stood on the rear platform of 
 the last car, waving her handkerchief to the 
 group at the station as long as it was in sight, 
 so that the last glimpse her mother should 
 have of her, was with her bright little face all 
 ashine. 
 
 All these pictures passed so rapidly through 
 Joyce's mind, that she had retraced the experi- 
 ences of the last three months in as many min- 
 utes. Then, somehow, she felt better. The 
 tears had washed away the ache in her throat. 
 She wiped her eyes and climbed liked a squirrel 
 to the highest limb that could bear her weight. 
 
 This was not the first time that the old pear- 
 tree had been shaken by Joyce's grief, and it 
 knew that her spells of homesickness always 
 ended in this way. There she sat, swinging her 
 plump legs back and forth, her long light hair 
 blowing over the shoulders of her blue jacket, 
 and her saucy little mouth puckered into a soft 
 whistle. She could see over the high wall now. 
 The sun was going down behind the tall Lom- 
 bardy poplars that lined the road, and in a dis- 
 tant field two peasants still at work reminded
 
 2O THF GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 her of the picture of "The Angelas." They 
 seemed like acquaintances on account of the re- 
 semblance, for there was a copy of the picture 
 in her little bedroom at home. 
 
 All around her stretched quiet fields, sloping 
 down to the ancient village of St. Symphorien 
 and the river Loire. Just across the river, so 
 near that she could hear the ringing of the 
 cathedral bell, lay the famous old town of Tours. 
 There was something in these country sights 
 and sounds that soothed her with their homely 
 cheerfulness. The crowing of a rooster and the 
 barking of a dog fell on her ear like familiar 
 music. 
 
 " It's a comfort to hear something speak 
 English," she sighed, "even if it's nothing but 
 a chicken. I do wish that Cousin Kate 
 wouldn't be so particular about my using 
 French all day long. The one little half- 
 hour at bedtime when she allows me to speak 
 English isn't a drop in the bucket. It's a 
 mercy that I had studied French some before 
 I came, or I would have a lonesome time. I 
 wouldn't be able to ever talk at all." 
 
 It was getting cold up in the pear-tree. 
 Joyce shivered and stepped down to the limb
 
 IN THE PEAR - TREE. 
 
 21 
 
 below, but paused in her descent to watch a 
 peddler going down the road with a pack on 
 his back. 
 
 " Oh, he is stopping 
 at the gate with the 
 big scissors!" she 
 cried, so interested 
 that she spoke aloud. 
 " I must wait to see 
 if it opens." 
 
 There was some- 
 thing mysterious 
 about that gate across 
 the road. Like Mon- 
 sieur Greville's, it 
 was plain and solid, 
 r eaching as high as 
 the wall. Only the 
 lime-trees and the 
 second story win- 
 dows of the house could be seen above it. 
 On the top it bore an iron medallion, on which 
 was fastened a huge pair of scissors. There 
 was a smaller pair on each gable of the house, 
 also. 
 
 During the three months that Joyce had
 
 22 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 been in Monsieur Greville's home, she had 
 watched every day to see it open ; but if any 
 one ever entered or left the place, it was cer- 
 tainly by some other way than this queer gate. 
 
 What lay beyond it, no one could tell. She 
 had questioned Gabriel the coachman, and 
 Berthe the maid, in vain. Madame Greville 
 said that she remembered having heard, when 
 a child, that the man who built it was named 
 Ciseaux, and that was why the symbol of this 
 name was hung over the gate and on the gables. 
 He had been regarded as half crazy by his neigh- 
 bors. The place was still owned by a descend- 
 ant of his, who had gone to Algiers, and left it 
 in charge of two servants. 
 
 The peddler rang the bell of the gate several 
 times, but failing to arouse any one, shouldered 
 his pack and went off grumbling. Then Joyce 
 climbed down and walked slowly up the grav- 
 elled path to the house. Cousin Kate had 
 just come back from Tours in the pony cart, 
 and was waiting in the door to see if Gabriel 
 had all the bundles that she had brought out 
 with her. 
 
 Joyce followed her admiringly into the house. 
 She wished that she could grow up to look
 
 IN THE PEAR-TREE. 23 
 
 exactly like Cousin Kate, and wondered if she 
 would ever wear such stylish silk-lined skirts, 
 and catch them up in such an airy, graceful 
 way when she ran up-stairs ; and if she would 
 ever have a Paris hat with long black feathers, 
 and always wear a bunch of sweet violets on 
 her coat. 
 
 She looked at herself in Cousin Kate's mir- 
 ror as she passed it, and sighed. " Well, I am 
 better-looking than when I left home," she 
 thought. "That's one comfort. My face isn't 
 freckled now, and my hair is more becoming 
 this way than in tight little pigtails, the way 
 I used to wear it." 
 
 Cousin Kate, coming up behind her, looked 
 over her head and smiled at the attractive re- 
 flection of Joyce's rosy cheeks and straightfor- 
 ward gray eyes. Then she stopped suddenly 
 and put her arms around her, saying, " What's 
 the matter, dear ? You have been crying." 
 
 "Nothing," answered Joyce, but there was 
 a quaver in her voice, and she turned her head 
 aside. Cousin Kate put her hand under the 
 resolute little chin, and tilted it until she could 
 look into the eyes that dropped under her gaze. 
 " You have been crying," she said again, this
 
 24 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 time in English, " crying because you are home- 
 sick. I wonder if it would not be a good occu- 
 pation for you to open all the bundles that I 
 got this afternoon. There is a saucepan in one, 
 and a big spoon in the other, and all sorts of 
 good things in the others, so that we can make 
 some molasses candy here in my room, over the 
 open fire. While it cooks you can curl up in 
 the big armchair and listen to a fairy tale in 
 the firelight. Would you like that, little one ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " cried Joyce, ecstatically. "That's 
 what they are doing at home this minute, I am 
 sure. We always make candy every afternoon 
 in the winter time." 
 
 Presently the saucepan was sitting on the 
 coals, and Joyce's little pug nose was raptur- 
 ously sniffing the odor of bubbling molasses. 
 " I know what I'd like the story to be about," 
 she said, as she stirred the delicious mixture 
 with the new spoon. " Make up something 
 about the big gate across the road, with the 
 scissors on it." 
 
 Cousin Kate crossed the room, and sat down 
 by the window, where she could look out and 
 see the top of it. 
 
 " Let me think for a few minutes," she said
 
 IN THE PEAR-TREE. 25 
 
 " I have been very much interested in that old 
 gate myself." 
 
 She thought so long that the candy was done 
 before she was ready to tell the story ; but 
 while it cooled in plates outside on the win- 
 clow-sill, she drew Joyce to a seat beside 
 her in the chimney-corner. With her feet on 
 the fender, and the child's head on her shoulder, 
 she began this story, and the firelight dancing 
 on the walls, showed a smile on Joyce's con- 
 tented little face.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 
 
 ONCE upon a time, on a far island of the sea, 
 there lived a King with seven sons. The three 
 eldest were tall and dark, with eyes like eagles, 
 and hair like a crow's wing for blackness, and 
 no princes in all the land were so strong and 
 fearless as they. The three youngest sons 
 were tall and fair, with eyes as blue as corn- 
 flowers, and locks like the summer sun for 
 brightness, and no princes in all the land were 
 so brave and beautiful as they. 
 
 But the middle son was little and lorn ; he 
 was neither dark nor fair ; he was neither hand- 
 some nor strong. So when the King saw that 
 he never won in the tournaments nor led in 
 the boar hunts, nor sang to his lute among 
 the ladies of the court, he drew his royal 
 robes around him, and henceforth frowned on 
 Ethelried. 
 
 *
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 
 
 To each of his other sons he gave a portion 
 of his kingdom, armor and plumes, a prancing 
 charger, and a trusty sword ; but to Ethelried he 
 gave nothing. When 
 the poor Prince saw 
 his brothers riding 
 out into the world to 
 win their fortunes, he 
 fain would have fol- 
 lowed. Throwing 
 himself on his 
 knees before the 
 King, he cried, " Oh, 
 royal Sire, bestow 
 upon me also a sword 
 and a steed, that I 
 may up and away to 
 follow my brethren." 
 
 But the King 
 laughed him to scorn. 
 " Thou a sword ! " he 
 quoth. "Thou who hast never done a deed of 
 valor in all thy life ! In sooth thou shalt have 
 one, but it shall be one befitting thy maiden 
 size and courage, if so small a weapon can be 
 found in all my kingdom ! "
 
 28 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Now just at that moment it happened that 
 the Court Tailor came into the room to measure 
 the King for a new mantle of ermine. Forth- 
 with the grinning Jester began shrieking with 
 laughter, so that the bells upon his motley cap 
 were all set a-j angling. 
 
 " What now, Fool ? " demanded the King. 
 
 " I did but laugh to think the sword of Ethel- 
 ried had been so quickly found," responded the 
 Jester, and he pointed to the scissors hanging 
 from the Tailor's girdle. 
 
 "By my troth," exclaimed the King, "it 
 shall be even as thou sayest ! " and he com- 
 manded that the scissors be taken from the 
 Tailor, and buckled to the belt of Ethelried. 
 
 " Not until thou hast proved thyself a prince 
 with these, shalt thou come into thy kingdom," 
 he swore with a mighty oath. " Until that far 
 day, now get thee gone ! " 
 
 So Ethelried left the palace, and wandered 
 away over mountain and moor with a heavy 
 heart. No one knew that he was a prince; 
 no fireside offered him welcome; no lips gave 
 him a friendly greeting. The scissors hung 
 useless and rusting by his side. 
 
 One night as he lay in a deep forest, too
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 2^ 
 
 unhappy to sleep, he heard a noise near at 
 hand in the bushes. By the light of the 
 moon he saw that a ferocious wild beast had 
 been caught in a hunter's snare, and was 
 struggling to free itself from the heavy net. 
 His first thought was to slay the animal, for 
 he had had no meat for many days. Then he 
 bethought himself that he had no weapon large 
 enough. 
 
 While he stood gazing at the struggling 
 beast, it turned to him with such a beseeching 
 look in its wild eyes, that he was moved to pity. 
 
 "Thou shalt have thy liberty," he cried, 
 "even though thou shouldst rend me in 
 pieces the moment thou art free. Better 
 dead than this craven life to which my father 
 hath doomed me!" 
 
 So he set to work with the little scissors to 
 cut the great ropes of the net in twain. At 
 first each strand seemed as hard as steel, and 
 the blades of the scissors were so rusty and 
 dull that he could scarcely move them. Great 
 beads of sweat stood out on his brow as he 
 bent himself to the task. 
 
 Presently, as he worked, the blades began to 
 grow sharper and sharper, and brighter and
 
 3O THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 brighter, and longer and longer. By the time 
 that the last rope was cut the scissors were as 
 sharp as a broadsword, and half as long as his 
 body. 
 
 At last he raised the net to let the beast go 
 free. Then he sank on his knees in astonish^ 
 ment. It had suddenly disappeared, and in its 
 place stood a beautiful Fairy with filmy wings, 
 which shone like rainbows in the moonlight. 
 
 " Prince Ethelried," she said in a voice that 
 was like a crystal bell's for sweetness, "dost 
 thou not know that thou art in the domain of a 
 frightful Ogre ? It was he who changed me 
 into the form of a wild beast, and set the snare 
 to capture me. But for thy fearlessness and 
 faithful perseverance in the task which thou 
 didst in pity undertake, I must have perished 
 at dawn." 
 
 At this moment there was a distant rum- 
 bling as of thunder. "Tis the Ogre!" cried 
 the Fairy. "We must hasten." Seizing the 
 scissors that lay on the ground where Ethelried 
 had dropped them, she opened and shut them 
 several times, exclaiming : 
 
 " Scissors, grow a giant's height 
 And save us from the Ogre's might ! "
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 3 1 
 
 Immediately they grew to an enormous size, 
 and, with blades extended, shot through the 
 tangled thicket ahead of them, cutting down 
 everything that stood in their way, bushes, 
 stumps, trees, vines ; nothing could stand before 
 the fierce onslaught of those mighty blades. 
 
 The Fairy darted down the path thus opened 
 up, and Ethelried followed as fast as he could, 
 for the horrible roaring was rapidly coming 
 nearer. At last they reached a wide chasm 
 that bounded the Ogre's domain. Once 
 across that, they would be out of his power, 
 but it seemed impossible to cross. Again the 
 Fairy touched the scissors, saying : 
 
 " Giant scissors, bridge the path, 
 And save us from the Ogre's wrath." 
 
 Again the scissors grew longer and longer, 
 until they lay across the chasm like a shining 
 bridge. Ethelried hurried across after the 
 Fairy, trembling and dizzy, for the Ogre was 
 now almost upon them. As soon as they were 
 safe on the other side, the Fairy blew upon the 
 scissors, and, presto, they became shorter and 
 shorter until they were only the length of an 
 ordinary sword.
 
 32 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 "Here," she said, giving them into his hands; 
 " because thou wast persevering and fearless in 
 setting me free, these shall win for thee thy 
 heart's desire. But remember that thou canst 
 not keep them sharp and shining, unless they 
 are used at least once each day in some unself- 
 ish service." 
 
 Before he could thank her she had vanished, 
 and he was left in the forest alone. He could 
 see the Ogre standing powerless to hurt him, 
 on the other side of the chasm, and gnashing 
 his teeth, each one of which was as big as a 
 millstone. 
 
 The sight was so terrible, that he turned on 
 his heel, and fled away as fast as his feet could 
 carry him. By the time he reached the edge 
 of the forest he was very tired, and ready to 
 faint from hunger. His heart's greatest desire 
 being for food, he wondered if the scissors 
 could obtain it for him as the Fairy had 
 promised. He had spent his last coin and 
 knew not where to go for another. 
 
 Just then he spied a tree, hanging full of 
 great, yellow apples. By standing on tiptoe 
 he could barely reach the lowest one with his 
 scissors. He cut off an apple, and was about
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 33 
 
 to take a bite, when an old Witch sprang out 
 of a hollow tree across the road. 
 
 " So you are the thief who has been steal- 
 ing my gold apples all this last fortnight ! " she 
 exclaimed. " Well, you shall never steal again, 
 that I promise you. Ho, Frog-eye Fearsome, 
 seize on him and drag him into your darkest 
 dungeon ! " 
 
 At that, a hideous-looking fellow, with eyes 
 like a frog's, green hair, and horrid clammy 
 webbed fingers, clutched him before he could 
 turn to defend himself. He was thrust into 
 the dungeon and left there all day. 
 
 At sunset, Frog-eye Fearsome opened the 
 door to slide in a crust and a cup of water, 
 saying in a croaking voice, " You shall be 
 hanged in the morning, hanged by the neck 
 until you are quite dead." Then he stopped 
 to run his webbed fingers through his damp 
 green hair, and grin at the poor captive Prince, 
 as if he enjoyed his suffering. But the next 
 morning no one came to take him to the 
 gallows, and he sat all day in total darkness. 
 At sunset Frog-eye Fearsome opened the door 
 again to thrust in another crust and some water 
 and say, " In the morning you shall be drowned ;
 
 34 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 drowned in the Witch's mill-pond with a great 
 stone tied to your heels." 
 
 Again the croaking creature stood and 
 gloated over his victim, then left him to the 
 silence of another long day in the dungeon. 
 The third day he opened the door and hopped 
 in, rubbing his webbed hands together with 
 fiendish pleasure, saying, " You are to have 
 no food and drink to-night, for the Witch has 
 thought of a far more horrible punishment for 
 you. In the morning I shall surely come 
 again, and then beware!" 
 
 Now as he stopped to grin once more at the 
 poor Prince, a Fly darted in, and, blinded by the 
 darkness of the dungeon, flew straight into a 
 spider's web, above the head of Ethelried. 
 
 " Poor creature !" thought Ethelried. "Thou 
 shalt not be left a prisoner in this dismal spot 
 while I have the power to help thee." He lifted 
 the scissors and with one stroke destroyed the 
 web, and gave the Fly its freedom. 
 
 As soon as the dungeon had ceased to echo 
 with the noise that Frog-eye Fearsome made in 
 banging shut the heavy door, Ethelried heard a 
 low buzzing near his ear. It was the Fly, which 
 had alighted on his shoulder.
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 35 
 
 " Let an insect in its gratitude teach you 
 this," buzzed the Fly. " To-morrow, if you 
 remain here, you must certainly meet your 
 doom, for the Witch never keeps a prisoner 
 past the third night. But escape is pos- 
 sible. Your prison door is of iron, but the 
 shutter which bars the window is only of 
 wood. Cut your way out at midnight, and I 
 will have a friend in waiting to guide you to a 
 place of safety. A faint glimmer of light on 
 the opposite wall shows me the keyhole. I 
 shall make my escape thereat and go to repay 
 thy unselfish service to me. But know that 
 the scissors move only when bidden in rhyme. 
 Farewell." 
 
 The Prince spent all the following time until 
 midnight, trying to think of a suitable verse to 
 say to the scissors. The art of rhyming had 
 been neglected in his early education, and it 
 was not until the first cock-crowing began that 
 he succeeded in making this one : 
 
 " Giant scissors, serve me well, 
 And save me from the Witch's spell ! " 
 
 As he uttered the words the scissors leaped 
 out of his hand, and began to cut through the
 
 36 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 wooden shutters as easily as through a cheese 
 In a very short time the Prince had crawled 
 through the opening. There he stood, outside 
 the dungeon, but it was a dark night and he 
 knew not which way to turn. 
 
 He could hear Frog-eye Fearsome snoring 
 like a tempest up in the watch-tower, and the 
 old Witch was talking in her sleep in seven 
 languages. While he stood looking around 
 him in bewilderment, a Firefly alighted on 
 his arm. Flashing its little lantern in the 
 Prince's face, it cried, " This way ! My friend, 
 the Fly, sent me to guide you to a place of 
 safety. Follow me and trust entirely to my 
 guidance." 
 
 The Prince flung his mantle over his shoul- 
 der, and followed on with all possible speed. 
 They stopped first in the Witch's orchard, and 
 the Firefly held its lantern up while the Prince 
 filled his pockets with the fruit. The apples 
 were gold with emerald leaves, and the cherries 
 were rubies, and the grapes were great bunches 
 of amethyst. When the Prince had filled his 
 pockets he had enough wealth to provide for all 
 his wants for at least a twelvemonth. 
 
 The Firefly led him on until they came to a
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 37 
 
 town where was a fine inn. There he left 
 him, and flew off to report the Prince's safety 
 to the Fly and receive the promised reward. 
 
 Here Ethelried stayed for many weeks, living 
 like a king on the money that the fruit jewels 
 brought him. All this time the scissors were 
 becoming little and rusty, because he never 
 once used them, as the Fairy bade him, in 
 unselfish service for others. But one day he 
 bethought himself of her command, and started 
 out to seek some opportunity to help some- 
 body. 
 
 Soon he came to a tiny hut where a sick man 
 lay moaning, while his wife and children wept 
 beside him. " What is to become of me ? " 
 cried the poor peasant. " My grain must fall 
 and rot in the field from overripeness because 
 I have not the strength to rise and harvest it ; 
 then indeed must we all starve." 
 
 Ethelried heard him, and that night, when the 
 moon rose, he stole into the field to cut it down 
 with the giant scissors. They were so rusty 
 from long idleness that he could scarcely move 
 them. He tried to think of some rhyme with 
 which to command them ; but it had been so 
 long since he had done any thinking, except for
 
 38 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 his own selfish pleasure, that his brain refused 
 to work. 
 
 However, he toiled on all night, slowly cutting 
 down the grain stalk by stalk. Towards morn- 
 ing the scissors became brighter and sharper, 
 until they finally began to open and shut of 
 their own accord. The whole field was cut by 
 sunrise. Now the peasant's wife had risen very 
 early to go down to the spring and dip up some 
 cool water for her husband to drink. She came 
 upon Ethelried as he was cutting the last row of 
 the grain, and fell on her knees to thank him. 
 From that day the peasant and all his family 
 were firm friends of Ethelried's, and would have 
 gone through fire and water to serve him. 
 
 After that he had many adventures, and he 
 was very busy, for he never again forgot what 
 the Fairy had said, that only unselfish service 
 each day could keep the scissors sharp and 
 shining. When the shepherd lost a little lamb 
 one day on the mountain, it was Ethelried who 
 found it caught by the fleece in a tangle of 
 cruel thorns. When he had cut it loose and 
 carried it home, the shepherd also became his 
 firm friend, and would have gone through fire 
 and water to serve him.
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 
 
 39 
 
 The grandame whom he supplied with fagots, 
 the merchant whom he rescued from robbers, 
 the King's councillor to whom he gave aid, 
 all became his friends. Up and down the 
 land, to beggar or lord, homeless wanderer or 
 high-born dame, he gladly 
 gave unselfish service all 
 unsought, and such as he 
 helped straightway became 
 his friends. 
 
 Day by day the scissors 
 grew sharper and sharper 
 and ever more quick to spring 
 forward at his bidding. 
 
 One day a herald dashed 
 down the highway, shouting 
 through his silver trumpet 
 that a beautiful Princess had 
 been carried away by the 
 Ogre. She was the only 
 child of the King of this country, and the 
 knights and nobles of all other realms and all 
 the royal potentates were prayed to come to 
 her rescue. To him who could bring her back 
 to her father's castle should be given the throne 
 and kingdom, as well as the Princess herself.
 
 40 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 So from far and near, indeed from almost 
 every country under the sun, came knights 
 and princes to fight the Ogre. One by one 
 their brave heads were cut off and stuck on 
 poles along the moat that surrounded the 
 castle. 
 
 Still the beautiful Princess languished in her 
 prison. Every night at sunset she was taken up 
 to the roof for a glimpse of the sky, and told to 
 bid good-by to the sun, for the next morning 
 would surely be her last. Then she would 
 wring her lily-white hands and wave a sad 
 farewell to her home, lying far to the west- 
 ward. When the knights saw this they would 
 rush down to the chasm and sound a challenge 
 to the Ogre. 
 
 They were brave men, and they would not 
 have feared to meet the fiercest wild beasts, but 
 many shrunk back when the Ogre came rush- 
 ing out. They dared not meet in single combat, 
 this monster with the gnashing teeth, each one 
 of which was as big as a millstone. 
 
 Among those who drew back were Ethel- 
 ried's brothers (the three that were dark and 
 the three that were fair). They would not 
 acknowledge their fear. They said, "We are
 
 THE PRINCESS.
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 43 
 
 only waiting to lay some wily plan to capture 
 the Ogre." 
 
 After several days Ethelried reached the 
 place on foot. " See him," laughed one of the 
 brothers that was dark to one that was fair. 
 " He comes afoot ; no prancing steed, no wav- 
 ing plumes, no trusty sword ; little and lorn, he 
 is not fit to be called a brother to princes." 
 
 But Ethelried heeded not their taunts. He 
 dashed across the drawbridge, and, opening his 
 scissors, cried: 
 
 " Giant scissors, rise in power ! 
 Grant me my heart's desire this hour ! " 
 
 The crowds on the other side held their 
 breath as the Ogre rushed out, brandishing a 
 club as big ^s a church steeple. Then Whack ! 
 Bang ! The blows of the scissors, warding off 
 the blows of the mighty club, could be heard 
 for miles around. 
 
 At last Ethelried became so exhausted that 
 he could scarcely raise his hand, and it was 
 plain to be seen that the scissors could not do 
 battle much longer. By this time a great many 
 people, attracted by the terrific noise, had come 
 running up to the moat. The news had spread
 
 44 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 far and wide that Ethelried was in danger ; so 
 every one whom he had ever served dropped 
 whatever he was doing, and ran to the scene of 
 the battle. The peasant was there, and the 
 shepherd, and the lords and beggars and high- 
 born dames, all those whom Ethelried had ever 
 befriended. 
 
 As they saw that the poor Prince was about 
 to be vanquished, they all began a great lamen- 
 tation, and cried out bitterly. 
 
 "He saved my harvest," cried one. "He 
 found my lamb," cried another. " He showed 
 me a greater kindness still," shouted a third. 
 And so they went on, each telling of some 
 unselfish service that the Prince had rendered 
 him. Their voices all joined at last into such a 
 roar of gratitude that the scissors were given 
 fresh strength on account of it. They grew 
 longer and longer, and stronger and stronger, 
 until with one great swoop they sprang forward 
 and cut the ugly old Ogre's head from his 
 shoulders. 
 
 Every cap was thrown up, and such cheering 
 rent the air as has never been heard since. 
 They did not know his name, they did not 
 know that h was Prince Ethelried, but they
 
 A NEW FAIRY TALE. 45 
 
 knew by his valor that there was royal blood 
 in his veins. So they all cried out long and 
 loud : " Long live the Prince ! Prince Ciseaux ! " 
 
 Then the King stepped down from his throne 
 and took off his crown to give to the conqueror, 
 but Ethelried put it aside. 
 
 "Nay," he said. "The only kingdom that I 
 crave is the kingdom of a loving heart and a 
 happy fireside. Keep all but the Princess." 
 
 So the Ogre was killed, and the Prince came 
 into his kingdom that was his heart's desire. 
 He married the Princess, and there was feasting 
 and merrymaking for seventy days and seventy 
 nights, and they all lived happily ever after. 
 
 When the feasting was over, and the guests 
 had all gone to their homes, the Prince pulled 
 down the house of the Ogre and built a new 
 one. On every gable he fastened a pair of 
 shining scissors to remind himself that only 
 through unselfish service to others comes the 
 happiness that is highest and best. 
 
 Over the great entrance gate he hung the 
 ones that had served him so valiantly, saying, 
 "Only those who belong to the kingdom of 
 loving hearts and happy homes can ever enter 
 here."
 
 46 THE GATE OP THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 One day the old King, with the brothers of 
 Ethelried (the three that were dark and the 
 three that were fair), came riding up to the 
 portal. They thought to share in Ethelried's 
 fame and splendor. But the scissors leaped 
 from their place and snapped so angrily in their 
 faces that they turned their horses and fled. 
 
 Then the scissors sprang back to their place 
 again to guard the portal of Ethelried, and, to 
 this day, only those who belong to the kingdom 
 of loving hearts may enter the Gate of the 
 Giant Scissors
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BEHIND THE GREAT GATE. 
 
 THAT was the tale of the giant scissors as it 
 was told to Joyce in the pleasant fire-lighted 
 room ; but behind the great gates the true 
 story went on in a far different way. 
 
 Back of the Ciseaux house was a dreary field, 
 growing drearier and browner every moment as 
 the twilight deepened ; and across its rough 
 furrows a tired boy was stumbling wearily 
 homeward. He was not more than nine years 
 old, but the careworn expression of his thin 
 white face might have belonged to a little old 
 man of ninety. He was driving two unruly 
 goats towards the house. The chase they led him 
 would have been a laughable sight, had he not 
 looked so small and forlorn plodding along in 
 his clumsy wooden shoes, and a peasa 1 t's blouse 
 of blue cotton, several sizes too large for his 
 thin little body. 
 
 47
 
 48 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 The anxious look .in his eyes changed to one 
 of fear as he drew nearer the house. At the 
 sound of a gruff voice bellowing at him from 
 the end of the lane, he winced as if he had 
 been struck. 
 
 " Ha, there, Jules ! Thou lazy vagabond ! 
 Late again ! Canst thou never learn that I 
 am not to be kept waiting?" 
 
 " But, Brossard," quavered the boy in his 
 shrill, anxious voice, " it was not my fault, 
 indeed it was not. The goats were so stub- 
 born to-night. They broke through the hedge, 
 and I had to chase them over three fields." 
 
 " Have done with thy lying excuses," was 
 the rough answer. " Thou shalt have no sup- 
 per to-night. Maybe an empty stomach will 
 teach thee when my commands fail. Hasten 
 and drive the goats into the pen." 
 
 There was a scowl on Brossard's burly red 
 face that made Jules's heart bump up in his 
 throat. Brossard was only the caretaker of the 
 Ciseaux place, but he had been there for twenty 
 years, so long that he felt himself the master. 
 The real master was in Algiers nearly all the 
 time. During his absence the great house was 
 closed, excepting the kitchen and two rooms
 
 BEHIND THE GREAT GATE. 49 
 
 above it. Of these Brossard had one and 
 Henri the other. Henri was the cook ; a slow, 
 stupid old man, not to be jogged out of either 
 his good-nature or his slow gait by anything 
 that Brossard might say. 
 
 Henri cooked and washed and mended, and 
 hoed in the garden. Brossard worked in the 
 fields and shaved down the expenses of their 
 living closer and closer. All that was thus 
 eaved fell to his share, or he might not have 
 Vvatched the expenses so carefully. 
 
 Much saving had made him miserly. Old 
 Therese, the woman with the fish-cart, used to 
 say that he was the stingiest man in all Tour- 
 raine. She ought to know, for she had sold 
 him a fish every Friday during all those twenty 
 years, and he had never once failed to quarrel 
 about the price. Five years had gone by since 
 the master's last visit. Brossard and Henri 
 were not likely to forget that time, for they 
 had been awakened in the dead of night by a 
 loud knocking at the side gate. When they 
 opened it the sight that greeted them made 
 them rub their sleepy eyes to be sure that they 
 saw aright. 
 
 There stood the master, old Martin Ciseaux.
 
 5O THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 His hair and fiercely bristling mustache had 
 turned entirely white since they had ]ast seen 
 him. In his arms he carried a child. 
 
 Brossard almost dropped his candle in his 
 first surprise, and his wonder grew until he 
 could hardly contain it, when the curly head 
 raised itself from monsieur's shoulder, and the 
 sleepy baby voice lisped something in a foreign 
 tongue. 
 
 " By all the saints ! " muttered Brossard, as 
 he stood aside for his master to pass. 
 
 " It's my brother Jules's grandson," was the 
 curt explanation that monsieur offered. "Jules 
 is dead, and so is his son and all the family, 
 died in America. This is his son's son, Jules, 
 the last of the name. If I choose to take him 
 from a foreign poorhouse and give him shelter, 
 it's nobody's business, Louis Brossard, but my 
 own." 
 
 With that he strode on up the stairs to his 
 room, the boy still in his arms. This sudden 
 coming of a four-year-old child into their daily 
 life made as little difference to Brossard and 
 Henri as the presence of the four-months-old 
 puppy. They spread a cot for him in Henri's 
 room when the master went back to Algiers.
 
 BEHIND THE GREAT GATE. 5 I 
 
 They gave him something to eat three times a 
 day when they stopped for their own meals, 
 and then went on with their work as usual. 
 
 It made no difference to them that he sobbed 
 in the dark for his mother to come and sing 
 him to sleep, the happy young mother who 
 had petted and humored him in her own fond 
 American fashion. They could not under- 
 stand his speech ; more than that, they could 
 not understand him. Why should he mope 
 alone in the garden with that beseeching look 
 of a lost dog in his big, mournful eyes ? Why 
 should he not play and be happy, like the neigh- 
 bor's children or the kittens or any other young 
 thing that had life and sunshine ? 
 
 Brossard snapped his fingers at him some- 
 times at first, as he would have done to a 
 playful animal ; but when Jules drew back, 
 frightened by his foreign speech and rough 
 voice, he began to dislike the timid child. 
 After awhile he never noticed him except to 
 push him aside or to find fault. 
 
 It was from Henri that Jules picked up 
 whatever French he learned, and it was from 
 Henri also that he had received the one awk- 
 ward caress, and the only one, that his desolate
 
 5 1 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 little heart had known in all the five loveless 
 years that he had been with them. 
 
 A few months ago Brossard had put him 
 out in the field to keep the goats from straying 
 away from their pasture, two stubborn crea- 
 tures, whose self-willed wanderings had brought 
 many a scolding down on poor Jules's head. 
 To-night he was unusually unfortunate, for 
 added to the weary chase they had led him was 
 this stern command that he should go to bed 
 without his supper. 
 
 He was about to pass into the house, shiver- 
 ing and hungry, when Henri put his head out 
 at the window. "Brossard," he called, "there 
 isn't enough bread for supper ; there's just this 
 dry end of a loaf. You should have bought as 
 I told you, when the baker's cart stopped here 
 this morning." 
 
 Brossard slowly measured the bit of hard, 
 black bread with his eye, and, seeing that there 
 was not half enough to satisfy the appetites of 
 two hungry men, he grudgingly drew a franc 
 from his pocket. 
 
 " Here, Jules," he called. " Go down to the 
 bakery, and see to it that thou art back by 
 the time that I have milked the goats, or thou
 
 BEHIND THE GREAT GATE. 53 
 
 shalt go to bed with a beating, as well as 
 supperless. Stay ! " he added, as Jules turned 
 to go. " I have a mind to eat white bread to- 
 night instead of black. It will cost an extra 
 sou, so be careful to count the change. It is 
 only once or so in a twelvemonth," he muttered 
 to himself as an excuse for his extravagance. 
 
 It was half a mile to the village, but down 
 hill all the way, so that Jules reached the 
 bakery in a very short time. 
 
 Several customers were ahead of him, how- 
 ever, and he awaited his turn nervously. When 
 he left the shop an old lamplighter was going 
 down the street with torch and ladder, leaving 
 a double line of twinkling lights in his wake, as 
 he disappeared down the wide " Paris road." 
 Jules watched him a moment, and then ran 
 rapidly on. For many centuries the old village 
 of St. Symphorien had echoed with the clatter 
 of wooden shoes on its ancient cobblestones ; 
 but never had foot-falls in its narrow, crooked 
 streets kept time to the beating of a lonelier 
 little heart. 
 
 The officer of Customs, at his window beside 
 the gate that shuts in the old town at night, 
 nodded in a surly way as the boy hurried
 
 54 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 past.. Once outside the gate, Jules walked 
 more slowly, for the road began to wind up-hill. 
 Now he was out again in the open country, 
 where a faint light lying over the frosty fields 
 showed that the moon was rising. 
 
 Here and there lamps shone from the win- 
 dows of houses along the road ; across the 
 field came the bark of a dog, welcoming his 
 master ; two old peasant women passed him in 
 a creaking cart on their glad way home. 
 
 At the top of the hill Jules stopped to take 
 breath, leaning for a moment against the stone 
 wall. He was faint from hunger, for he had 
 been in the fields since early morning, with 
 nothing for his midday lunch but a handful 
 of boiled chestnuts. The smell of the fresh 
 bread tantalized him beyond endurance. Oh, 
 to be able to take a mouthful, just one little 
 mouthful of that brown, sweet crust ! 
 
 He put his face down close, and shut his- 
 eyes, drawing in the delicious odor with long, 
 deep breaths. What bliss it would be to have 
 that whole loaf for his own, he, little Jules, 
 who was to have no supper that night ! He 
 held it up in the moonlight, hungrily looking 
 at it on every side. There was not a broken
 
 BEHIND THE GREAT GATE. 55 
 
 place to be found anywhere on its surface ; not 
 one crack in all that hard, brown glaze of crust, 
 from which he might pinch the tiniest crumb. 
 
 For a moment a mad impulse seized him to 
 tear it in pieces, and eat every scrap, regardless 
 of the reckoning with Brossard afterwards. But 
 it was only for a moment. The memory of his 
 last beating stayed his hand. Then, fearing to 
 dally with temptation, lest it should master him, 
 he thrust the bread under his arm, and ran 
 every remaining step of the way home. 
 
 Brossard took the loaf from him, and pointed 
 with it to the stairway, a mute command for 
 Jules to go to bed at once. Tingling with a 
 sense of injustice, the little fellow wanted to 
 shriek out in all his hunger and misery, defying 
 this monster of a man ; but a struggling spar- 
 row might as well have tried to turn on the 
 hawk that held it. He clenched his hands to 
 keep from snatching something from the table, 
 set out so temptingly in the kitchen, but he 
 dared not linger even to look at it. With a 
 feeling of utter helplessness he passed it in 
 silence, his face white and set. 
 
 Dragging his tired feet slowly up the stairs, 
 he went over to the casement window, and
 
 56 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 swung it open ; then, kneeling down, he laid 
 his head on the sill, in the moonlight. Was it 
 his dream that came back to him then, or only 
 a memory ? He could never be sure, for if it 
 were a memory, it was certainly as strange 
 as any dream, unlike 
 anything he had ever 
 known in his life with 
 Henri and Brossard. 
 Night after night he 
 had comforted himself 
 with the picture that it 
 brought before him. 
 
 He could see a little 
 white house in the 
 middle of a big lawn. 
 There were vines on the 
 SillBSPlP^ porches, and it must 
 have been early in the 
 evening, for the fireflies 
 
 were beginning to twinkle over the lawn. And 
 the grass had just been cut, for the air was 
 sweet with the smell of it. A woman, standing 
 on the steps under the vines, was calling "Jules, 
 Jules, it is time to come in, little son ! " 
 
 But Jules, in his white dress and shoulder.
 
 BEHIND THE GREAT GATE. 5/ 
 
 knots of blue ribbon, was toddling across the 
 lawn after a firefly. 
 
 Then she began to call him another way. 
 Jules had a vague idea that it was a part of 
 some game that they sometimes played together. 
 It sounded like a song, and the words were not 
 like any that he had ever heard since he came to 
 live with Henri and Brossard. He could not 
 forget them, though, for had they not sung 
 themselves through that beautiful dream every 
 time he had it ? 
 
 " Little Boy Blue, oh, where are you ? 
 O, where are you-u-u-u ? " 
 
 He only laughed in the dream picture and 
 ran on after the firefly. Then a man came 
 running after him, and, catching him, tossed 
 him up laughingly, and carried him to the 
 house on his shoulder. 
 
 Somebody held a glass of cool, creamy milk 
 for him to drink, and by and by he was in a 
 little white night-gown in the woman's lap. 
 His head was nestled against her shoulder, 
 and he could feel her soft lips touching him 
 on cheeks and eyelids and mouth, before she 
 began to sing:
 
 $8 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 " Oh, little Boy Blue, lay by your horn, 
 And mother will sing of the cows and the corn, 
 Till the stars and the angels come to keep 
 Their watch, where my baby lies fast asleep." 
 
 Now all of a sudden Jules knew that there 
 was another kind of hunger worse than the 
 longing for bread. He wanted the soft touch 
 of those lips again on his mouth and eyelids, 
 the loving pressure of those restful arms, a 
 thousand times more than he had wished for 
 the loaf that he had just brought home. Two 
 hot tears, that made his eyes ache in their slow 
 gathering, splashed down on the window-sill. 
 
 Down below Henri opened the kitchen door 
 and snapped his fingers to call the dog. Look- 
 ing out, Jules saw him set a plate of bones on 
 the step. For a moment he listened to the 
 animal's contented crunching, and then crept 
 across the room to his cot, with a little moan. 
 " O-o-oh o-oh ! " he sobbed. " Even the dog 
 has more than I have, and I'm so hungry ! " 
 He hid his head awhile in the old quilt ; then 
 he raised it again, and, with the tears streaming 
 down his thin little face, sobbed in a heart- 
 broken whisper : " Mother ! Mother .' Do you 
 know how hungry I am?"
 
 BEHIND THE GREAT GATE. 59 
 
 A clatter of knives and forks from the kitchen 
 below was the only answer, and he dropped 
 despairingly down again. 
 
 " She's so far away she can't even hear me ! " 
 he moaned. " Oh, if I could only be dead, too ! " 
 
 He lay there, crying, till Henri had finished 
 washing the supper dishes and had put them 
 clumsily away. The rank odor of tobacco, 
 stealing up the stairs, told him that Brossard 
 had settled down to enjoy his evening pipe. 
 Through the casement window that was still 
 ajar came the faint notes of an accordeon from 
 Monsieur Greville's garden, across the way. 
 Gabriel, the coachman, was walking up and 
 down in the moonlight, playing a wheezy 
 accompaniment to the only song he knew. 
 Jules did not notice it at first, but after 
 awhile, when he had cried himself quiet, the 
 faint melody began to steal soothingly into his 
 consciousness. His eyelids closed drowsily, 
 and then the accordeon seemed to be singing 
 something to him. He could not understand 
 at first, but just as he was dropping off to 
 sleep he heard it quite clearly : 
 
 " Till the stars and the angels come to keep 
 Their watch, where my baby lies fast asleep."
 
 6O THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Late in the night Jules awoke with a start, 
 and sat up, wondering what had aroused him. 
 He knew that it must be after midnight, for the 
 moon was nearly down. Henri was snoring. 
 Suddenly such a strong feeling of hunger came 
 over him, that he could think of nothing else. 
 It was like a gnawing pain. As if he were 
 being led by some power outside of his own 
 will, he slipped to the door of the room. The 
 little bare feet made no noise on the carpetless 
 floor. No mouse could have stolen down the 
 stairs more silently than timid little Jules. The 
 latch of the kitchen door gave a loud click 
 that made him draw back with a shiver of 
 alarm ; but that was all. After waiting one 
 breathless minute, his heart beating like a 
 trip-hammer, he went on into the pantry. 
 
 The moon was so far down now, that only a 
 white glimmer of light showed him the faint 
 outline of things ; but his keen little nose 
 guided him. There was half a cheese on the 
 swinging shelf, with all the bread that had been 
 left from supper. He broke off great pieces 
 of each in eager haste. Then he found a crock 
 of goat's milk. Lifting it to his mouth, he 
 drank with big, quick gulps until he had to
 
 IT FELL TO THE FLOOR WITH A CRASH.
 
 BEHIND THE GREAT GATE. 63 
 
 stop for breath. Just as he was about to raise 
 it to his lips again, some instinct of danger 
 made him look up. There in the doorway 
 stood Brossard, bigger and darker and more 
 threatening than he had ever seemed before. 
 
 A frightened little gasp was all that the 
 child had strength to give. He turned so sick 
 and faint that his nerveless fingers could no 
 longer hold the crock. It fell to the floor with 
 a crash, and the milk spattered all over the 
 pantry. Jules was too terrified to utter a 
 sound. It was Brossard who made the out- 
 cry. Jules could only shut his eyes and crouch 
 down trembling, under the shelf. The next 
 instant he was dragged out, and Brossard's 
 merciless strap fell again and again on the 
 poor shrinking little body, that writhed under 
 the cruel blows. 
 
 Once more Jules dragged himself up-stairs 
 to his cot, this time bruised and sore, too ex- 
 hausted for tears, too hopeless to think of 
 possible to-morrows. 
 
 Poor little prince in the clutches of the ogre ! 
 If only fairy tales might be true! If only 
 some gracious spirit of elfin lore might really 
 come at such a time with its magic wand of
 
 64 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 healing ! Then there would be no more little 
 desolate hearts, no more grieved little faces 
 with undried tears upon them in all the earth. 
 Over every threshold where a child's wee 
 feet had pattered in and found a home, it 
 would hang its guardian Scissors of Avenging, 
 so that only those who belong to the kingdom 
 of loving hearts and gentle hands would ever 
 dare to enter.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A LETTER AND A MEETING. 
 
 NEARLY a week later Joyce sat at her desk, 
 hurrying to finish a letter before the postman's 
 arrival. 
 
 " Dear Jack," it began. 
 
 " You and Mary will each get a letter this week. 
 Hers is the fairy tale that Cousin Kate told me, about 
 an old gate near here. I wrote it down as well as I 
 could remember. I wish you could see that gate. It 
 gets more interesting every day, and I'd give most 
 anything to see what lies on the other side. Maybe I 
 shall soon, for Marie has a way of finding out anything 
 she wants to know. Marie is my new maid. Cousin 
 Kate went to Paris last week, to be gone until nearly 
 Christmas, so she got Marie to take care of me. 
 
 " It seems so odd to have somebody button my boots 
 
 and brush my hair, and take me out to walk as if I 
 
 were a big doll. I have to be very dignified and act 
 
 as if I had always been used to such things. I believe 
 
 65
 
 66 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Marie would be shocked to death if she knew that I 
 had ever washed dishes, or pulled weeds out of the 
 pavement, or romped with you in the barn. 
 
 " Yesterday when we were out walking I got so tired 
 of acting as if I were a hundred years old, that I felt as 
 if I should scream.. 'Marie,' I said, 'I've a mind to 
 throw my muff in the fence-corner and run and hang 
 on behind that wagon that's going down-hill.' She had 
 no idea that I was in earnest. She just smiled very 
 politely and said, ' Oh, mademoiselle, impossible ! How 
 you Americans do love to jest.' But it was no joke. 
 You can't imagine how stupid it is to be with nobody 
 but grown people all the time. I'm fairly aching for a 
 good old game of hi spy or prisoner's base with you. 
 There is nothing at all to do, but to take poky walks. 
 
 " Yesterday afternoon we walked down to the river. 
 There's a double row of trees along it on this side, and 
 several benches where people can wait for the tram- 
 cars that pass down this street and then across the 
 bridge into Tours. Marie found an old friend of hers 
 sitting on one of the benches, such a big fat woman, 
 and oh, such a gossip ! Marie said she was tired, 
 so we sat there a long time. Her friend's name is 
 Clotilde Robard. They talked about everybody in St. 
 Symphorien. 
 
 " Then I gossiped, too. I asked Clotilde Robard if 
 she knew why the gate with the big scissors was never 
 opened any more. She told me that she used to be one 
 of the maids there, before she married the spice-monger 
 and was Madame Robard. Years before she went to 
 live there, when the old Monsieur Ciseaux died, there
 
 OUT WITH MARIE.
 
 A LETTER AND A MEETING. 69 
 
 was a dreadful quarrel about some money. The son 
 that got the property told his brother and sister never 
 to darken his doors again. 
 
 " They went off to America, and that big front gate 
 has never been opened since they passed out of it. 
 Clotilde says that some people say that they put a curse 
 on it, and something awful will happen to the first one 
 who dares to go through. Isn't that interesting? 
 
 " The oldest son, Mr. Martin Ciseaux, kept up the 
 place for a long time, just as his father had done, but 
 he never married. All of a sudden he shut up the 
 house, sent away all the servants but the two who take 
 care of it, and went off to Algiers to live. Five years ago 
 he came back to bring his little grand-nephew, but 
 nobody has seen him since that time. 
 
 " Clotilde says that an orphan asylum would have 
 been a far better home for Jules (that is the boy's name), 
 for Brossard, the caretaker, is so mean to him. Doesn't 
 that make you think of Prince Ethelried in the fairy 
 tale ? ' Little and lorn ; no fireside welcomed him and 
 no lips gave him a friendly greeting.' 
 
 " Marie says that she has often seen Jules down in 
 the field, back of his uncle's house, tending the goats. 
 I hope that I may see him sometime. 
 
 " Oh, dear, the postman has come sooner than I 
 expected. He is talking down in the hall now, and if 
 I do not post this letter now it will miss the evening 
 train and be too late for the next mail steamer. Tell 
 mamma that I will answer all her questions about my 
 lessons and clothes next week. Oceans of love to 
 everybody in the dear little brown house."
 
 7<D THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Hastily scrawling her name, Joyce ran out 
 into the hall with her letter. " Anything for 
 me ? " she asked, anxiously, leaning over the 
 banister to drop the letter into Marie's hand. 
 " One, mademoiselle," was the answer. " But 
 it has not a foreign stamp." 
 
 " Oh, from Cousin Kate ! " exclaimed Joyce, 
 tearing it open as she went back to her room. 
 At the door she stooped to pick up a piece of 
 paper that had dropped from the envelope. It 
 crackled stiffly as she unfolded it. 
 
 " Money ! " she exclaimed in surprise. " A 
 whole twenty franc note. What could Cousin 
 Kate have sent it for ? " The last page of the 
 letter explained. 
 
 "I have just remembered that December is not very 
 far off, and that whatever little Christmas gifts we send 
 home should soon be started on their way. Enclosed 
 you will find twenty francs for your Christmas shopping. 
 It is not much, but we are too far away to send any- 
 thing but the simplest little remembrances, things that 
 will not be spoiled in the mail, and on which little or no 
 duty need be paid. You might buy one article each 
 day, so that there will be some purpose in your walks 
 into Tours. 
 
 " I am sorry that I can not be with you on Thanks- 
 giving Day. We will have to drop it from our calendar
 
 A LETTER AND A MEETING. J\ 
 
 this year; not the thanksgiving itself, but the turkey 
 and mince pie part. Suppose you take a few francs to 
 give yourself some little treat to mark the day. I hope 
 my dear little girl will not be homesick all by herself. 
 I never should have left just at this time if it had not 
 been very necessary." 
 
 Joyce smoothed out the bank-note and looked 
 at it with sparkling eyes. Twenty whole 
 francs ! The same as four dollars ! All the 
 money that she had ever had in her whole life 
 put together would not have amounted to that 
 much. Dimes were scarce in the little brown 
 house, and even pennies seldom found their 
 way into the children's hands when five pairs 
 of little feet were always needing shoes, and 
 five healthy appetites must be satisfied daily. 
 
 All the time that Joyce was pinning her 
 treasure securely in her pocket and putting on 
 her hat and jacket, all the time that she was 
 walking demurely down the road with Marie, 
 she was planning different ways in which to 
 spend her fortune. 
 
 " Mademoiselle is very quiet," ventured 
 Marie, remembering that one of her duties was 
 to keep up an improving conversation with her 
 little mistress.
 
 72 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 " Yes," answered Joyce, half impatiently ; 
 'I've got something so lovely to think about, 
 that I'd like to go back and sit down in the 
 garden and just think and think until dark, 
 without being interrupted by anybody." 
 
 This was Marie's opportunity. " Then 
 mademoiselle might not object to stopping in 
 the garden of the villa which we are now ap- 
 proaching," she said. "My friend, Clotilde 
 Robard, is housekeeper there, and I have a 
 very important message to deliver to her." 
 
 Joyce had no objection. "But, Marie," she 
 said, as she paused at the gate, " I think I'll not 
 go in. It is so lovely and warm out here in 
 the sun that I'll just sit here on the steps and 
 wait for you." 
 
 Five minutes went by and then ten. By 
 that time Joyce had decided how to spend 
 every centime in the whole twenty francs, and 
 Marie had not returned. Another five minutes 
 went by. It was dull, sitting there facing the 
 lonely highway, down which no one ever seemed 
 to pass. Joyce stood up, looked all around, and 
 then slowly sauntered down the road a short 
 distance. 
 
 Here and there in the crevices of the wall
 
 A LETTER AND A MEETING. 73 
 
 blossomed a few hardy wild flowers, which 
 Joyce began to gather as she walked. " I'll go 
 around this bend in the road and see what's 
 there," she said to herself. "By that time 
 Marie will surely be done with her messages." 
 
 No one was in sight in any direction, and 
 feeling that no one could be in hearing distance, 
 either, in such a deserted place, she began to 
 sing. It was an old Mother Goose rhyme that 
 she hummed over and over, in a low voice at 
 first, but louder as she walked on. 
 
 Around the bend in the road there was 
 nothing to be seen but a lonely field where 
 two goats were grazing. On one side of it 
 was a stone wall, on two others a tall hedge, 
 but the side next her sloped down to the road, 
 unfenced. 
 
 Joyce, with her hands filled with the yellow 
 wild flowers, stood looking around her, sing- 
 ing the old rhyme, the song that she had 
 taught the baby to sing before he could talk 
 plainly : 
 
 'Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn, 
 The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn. 
 Little Blue Blue, oh, where are you ? 
 Oh, where are you-u-u-u ? "
 
 74 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 The gay little voice that had been rising 
 higher and higher, sweet as any bird's, stopped 
 suddenly in mid-air ; for, as if in answer to her 
 call, there was a rustling just ahead of her, and 
 a boy who had been lying on his back, looking 
 at the sky, slowly raised himself out of the 
 grass. 
 
 For an instant Joyce was startled ; then see- 
 ing by his wooden shoes and old blue cotton 
 blouse that he was only a little peasant watch- 
 ing the goats, she smiled at him with a pleasant 
 good morning. 
 
 He did not answer, but came towards her 
 with a dazed expression on his face, as if he 
 were groping his way through some strange 
 dream. " It is time to go in ! " he exclaimed, 
 as if repeating some lesson learned long ago, 
 and half forgotten. 
 
 Joyce stared at him in open-mouthed aston- 
 ishment. The little fellow had spoken in Eng- 
 lish. " Oh, you must be Jules," she cried. 
 " Aren't you ? I've been wanting to find you 
 for ever so long." 
 
 The boy seemed frightened, and did not 
 answer, only looked at her with big, troubled 
 eyes. Thinking that she had made a mistake,
 
 HE CAME TOWARDS HER WITH A DAZED EXPRESSION 
 ON HIS FACE."
 
 A LETTER AND A MEETING // 
 
 that she had not heard aright, Joyce spoke in 
 French. He answered her timidly. She had 
 not been mistaken ; he was Jules ; he had been 
 asleep, he told her, and when he heard her 
 singing, he thought it was his mother calling 
 him as she used to do, and had started up ex- 
 pecting to see her at last. Where was she? 
 Did mademoiselle know her ? Surely she must 
 if she knew the song. 
 
 It was on the tip of Joyce's tongue to tell 
 him that everybody knew that song ; that it 
 was as familiar to the children at home as the 
 chirping of crickets on the hearth or the sight 
 of dandelions in the spring-time. But some 
 instinct warned her not to say it. She was 
 glad afterwards, when she found that it was 
 sacred to him, woven in as it was with his one 
 beautiful memory of a home. It was all he 
 had, and the few words that Joyce's singing 
 had startled from him were all that he remem- 
 bered of his mother's speech. 
 
 If Joyce had happened upon him in any other 
 way, it is doubtful if their acquaintance would 
 have grown very rapidly. He was afraid of 
 strangers ; but coming as she did with the 
 familiar song that was like an old friend, he
 
 78 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 felt that he must have known her sometime, 
 that other time when there was always a sweet 
 voice calling, and fireflies twinkled across a 
 dusky lawn. 
 
 Joyce was not in a hurry for Marie to come 
 now. She had a hundred questions to ask, and 
 made the most of her time by talking very fast. 
 "Marie will be frightened," she told Jules, 
 " if she does not find me at the gate, and will 
 think that the gypsies have stolen me. Then 
 she will begin to hunt up and down the road, 
 and I don't know what she would say if she 
 came and found me talking to a strange child 
 out in the fields, so I must hurry back. I 
 am glad that I found you. I have been wish- 
 ing so long for somebody to play with, and 
 you seem like an old friend because you were 
 born in America. I'm going to ask ma- 
 dame to ask Brossard to let you come over 
 sometime.'* 
 
 Jules watched her as she hurried away, run- 
 ning lightly down the road, her fair hair flying 
 over her shoulders and her short blue skirt 
 fluttering. Once she looked back to wave her 
 hand. Long after she was out of sight he still 
 stood looking after her, as one might gaze long-
 
 A LETTER AND A MEETING. 79 
 
 ingly after some visitant from another world. 
 Nothing like her had ever dropped into his life 
 before, and he wondered if he should ever see 
 her again.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE. 
 
 44 MHBia HIS doesn't seem a 
 bit like Thanksgiving 
 Day, Marie," said 
 Joyce, plaintively, as 
 she sat up in bed to 
 take the early breakfast that 
 her maid brought in, a cup 
 of chocolate and a roll. 
 
 " In our country the very 
 
 minute you wake up you can feel that it is a 
 holiday. Outdoors it's nearly always cold and 
 gray, with everything covered with snow. In- 
 side you can smell turkey and pies and all 
 sorts of good spicy things. Here it is so warm 
 that the windows are open and flowers bloom- 
 ing in the garden, and there isn't a thing to 
 make it seem different from any other old 
 day."
 
 A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE. 8 1 
 
 Here her grumbling was interrupted by a 
 knock at the door, and Madame Greville's 
 maid, Berthe, came in with a message. 
 
 " Madame and monsieur intend spending the 
 day in Tours, and since Mademoiselle Ware has 
 written that Mademoiselle Joyce is to have no 
 lessons on this American holiday, they will be 
 pleased to have her accompany them in the 
 carriage. She can spend the morning with 
 them there or return immediately with Ga- 
 briel." 
 
 "Of course I want to go," cried Joyce. "I 
 love to drive. But I'd rather come back here 
 to lunch and have it by myself in the garden. 
 Berthe, ask madame if I can't have it served 
 in the little kiosk at the end of the arbor." 
 
 As soon as she had received a most gracious 
 permission, Joyce began to make a little plan. 
 It troubled her conscience somewhat, for she 
 felt that she ought to mention it to madame, 
 but she was almost certain that madame would 
 object, and she had set her heart on carrying 
 it out. 
 
 " I won't speak about it now," she said to 
 herself, " because I am not sure that I am 
 going to do it. Mamma would think it was
 
 82 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 all right, but foreigners are so queer about 
 some things." 
 
 Uncertain as Joyce may have been about 
 her future actions, as they drove towards town, 
 no sooner had madame and monsieur stepped 
 from the carriage, on the Rue Nationale, than 
 she was perfectly sure. 
 
 " Stop at the baker's, Gabriel," she ordered 
 as they turned homeward, then at the big 
 grocery on the corner. " Cousin Kate told 
 me to treat myself to something nice," she 
 said apologetically to her conscience, as she 
 gave up the twenty francs to the clerk to be 
 changed. 
 
 If Gabriel wondered what was in the little 
 parcels which she brought back to the car- 
 riage, he made no sign. He only touched his 
 hat respectfully, as she gave the next order: 
 " Stop where the road turns by the cemetery, 
 Gabriel ; at the house with the steps going up 
 to an iron-barred gate. I'll be back in two or 
 three minutes," she said, when she had reached 
 it, and climbed from the carriage. 
 
 To his surprise, instead of entering the gate, 
 she hurried on past it, around the bend in the 
 road. In a little while she came running back,
 
 A THANKSGIVING BAfcBECUfe. 83 
 
 her shoes covered with damp earth, as if she 
 had been walking in a freshly ploughed field. 
 
 If Gabriel's eyes could have followed her 
 around that bend in the road, he would have 
 seen a sight past his understanding : Mademoi- 
 selle Joyce running at the top of her speed to 
 meet a little goatherd in wooden shoes and 
 blue cotton blouse, a common little peasant 
 goatherd. 
 
 "It's Thanksgiving Day, Jules," she an- 
 nounced, gasping, as she sank down on the 
 ground beside him. "We're the only Ameri- 
 cans here, and everybody has gone off; and 
 Cousin Kate said to celebrate in some way. 
 I'm going to have a dinner in the garden. 
 I've bought a rabbit, and we'll dig a hole, 
 and make a fire, and barbecue it the way Jack 
 and I used to do at home. And we'll roast 
 eggs in the ashes, and have a fine time. I've 
 got a lemon tart and a little iced fruit-cake, 
 too." 
 
 All this was poured out in such breathless 
 haste, and in such a confusion of tongues, first a 
 sentence of English and then a word of French, 
 that it is no wonder that Jules grew bewildered 
 in trying to follow her. She had to begin
 
 84 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 again at the beginning, and speak very slowly, 
 in order to make him understand that it was a 
 feast day of some kind, and that he, Jules, was 
 invited to some sort of a strange, wonderful 
 entertainment in Monsieur GreVille's garden. 
 " But Brossard is away from home," said Jules, 
 "and there is no one to watch the goats, and 
 keep them from straying down the road. Still 
 it would be just the same if he were home," he 
 added, sadly. " He would not let me go, I am 
 sure. I have never been out of sight of that 
 roof since I first came here, except on errands 
 to the village, when I had to run all the way 
 back." He pointed to the peaked gables, 
 adorned by the scissors of his crazy old 
 ancestor. 
 
 "Brossard isn't your father," cried Joyce, 
 indignantly, "nor your uncle, nor your cousin, 
 nor anything else that has a right to shut you 
 up that way. Isn't there a field with a fence 
 all around it, that you could drive the goats 
 into for a few hours?" 
 
 Jules shook his head. 
 
 "Well, I can't have my Thanksgiving spoiled 
 for just a couple of old goats," exclaimed Joyce. 
 "You'll have to bring them along, and we'll
 
 A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE. 85 
 
 shut them up in the carriage-house. You 
 come over in about an hour, and I'll be at 
 the side gate waiting for you." 
 
 Joyce had always been a general in her small 
 way. She made her plans and issued her orders 
 both at home and at school, and the children 
 accepted her leadership as a matter of course. 
 Even if Jules had not been willing and anxious 
 to go, it is doubtful if he could have mustered 
 courage to oppose the arrangements that she 
 made in such a masterful way; but Jules had 
 not the slightest wish to object to anything 
 whatsoever that Joyce might propose. 
 
 It is safe to say that the old garden had 
 never before even dreamed of such a celebra- 
 tion as the one that took place that afternoon 
 behind its moss-coated walls. The time-stained 
 statue of Eve, which stood on one side of the 
 fountain, looked across at the weather-beaten 
 figure of Adam, on the other side, in stony- 
 eyed surprise. The little marble satyr in the 
 middle of the fountain, which had been grin- 
 ning ever since its endless shower-bath began, 
 seemed to grin wider than ever, as it watched 
 the children's strange sport. 
 
 Jules dug the little trench according to
 
 8O THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Joyce's directions, and laid the iron grating 
 which she had borrowed from the cook across 
 it, and built the fire underneath. " We ought to 
 have something especially patriotic and Thanks- 
 givingey," said Joyce, standing on one foot to 
 consider. "Oh, now I know." she cried, after 
 a moment's thought. " Cousin Kate has a 
 lovely big silk flag in the top of her trunk. 
 I'll run and get that, and then I'll recite the 
 ' Landing of the Pilgrims ' to you while the 
 rabbit cooks." 
 
 Presently a savory odor began to steal along 
 the winding paths of the garden, between the 
 laurel-bushes, a smell of barbecued meat sput- 
 tering over the fire. Above the door of the 
 little kiosk, with many a soft swish of silken 
 stirrings, hung the beautiful old flag. Then 
 a clear little voice floated up through the pine- 
 trees : 
 
 " My country, 'tis of thee, 
 
 Sweet land of liberty, 
 
 Of thee I sing ! " 
 
 All the time that Joyce sang, she was mov- 
 ing around the table, setting out the plates and 
 rattling cups and saucers. She could not keep 
 a little quaver out of her voice, for, as she went
 
 A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE. 8/ 
 
 on, all the scenes of all the times that she had 
 sung that song before came crowding up in her 
 memory. There were the Thanksgiving days 
 in the church at home, and the Washington's 
 birthdays at school, and two Decoration days, 
 when, as a granddaughter of a veteran, she had 
 helped scatter flowers over the soldiers' graves. 
 
 Somehow it made her feel so hopelessly far 
 away from all that made life dear to be singing 
 of that "sweet land of liberty" in a foreign 
 country, with only poor little alien Jules for 
 company. 
 
 Maybe that is why the boy's first lesson in 
 patriotism was given so earnestly by his home- 
 sick little teacher. Something that could not be 
 put into words stirred within him, as, looking up 
 at the soft silken flutterings of the old flag, he 
 listened for the first time to the story of the 
 Pilgrim Fathers. 
 
 The rabbit cooked slowly, so slowly that there 
 was time for Jules to learn how to play mumble- 
 peg while they waited. At last it was done, and 
 Joyce proudly plumped it into the platter that 
 had been waiting for it. Marie had already 
 brought out a bountiful lunch, cold meats and 
 salad and a dainty pudding. By the time that
 
 88 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Joyce had added her contribution to the feast, 
 there was scarcely an inch of the 'table left 
 uncovered. Jules did not know the names of 
 half the dishes. 
 
 Not many miles away from that old garden, 
 scattered up and down the Loire throughout 
 all the region of fair Tourraine, rise the turrets 
 of many an old chateau. Great banquet halls, 
 where kings and queens once feasted, still stand 
 as silent witnesses of a gay bygone court life ; 
 but never in any chateau or palace among them 
 all was feast more thoroughly enjoyed than 
 this impromptu dinner in the garden, where a 
 little goatherd was the only guest. 
 
 It was an enchanted spot to Jules, made so 
 by the magic of Joyce's wonderful gift of story- 
 telling. For the first time in his life that he 
 could remember, he heard of Santa Claus and 
 Christmas trees, of Bluebeard and Aladdin's 
 lamp, and all the dear old fairy tales that were 
 so entrancing he almost forgot to eat. 
 
 Then they played that he was the prince, 
 Prince Ethelried, and that the goats in the 
 carriage-house were his royal steeds, and that 
 Joyce was a queen whom he had come to visit. 
 
 But it came to an end, as all beautiful things
 
 A LESSON IN PATRIOTISM.
 
 A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE. 9! 
 
 must do. The bells in the village rang four, 
 and Prince Ethelried started up as Cinderella 
 must have done when the pumpkin coach dis- 
 appeared. He was no longer a king's son ; he 
 was only Jules, the little goatherd, who must 
 hurry back to the field before the coming of 
 Brossard. 
 
 Joyce went with him to the carriage-house. 
 Together they swung open the great door. 
 Then an exclamation of dismay fell from 
 Joyce's lips. All over the floor were scattered 
 scraps of leather and cloth and hair, the kind 
 used in upholstering. The goats had whiled 
 away the hours of their imprisonment by chew- 
 ing up the cushions of the pony cart. 
 
 Jules turned pale with fright. Knowing so 
 little of the world, he judged all grown people 
 by his knowledge of Henri and Brossard. 
 " Oh, what will they do to us ? " he gasped. 
 
 " Nothing at all," answered Joyce, bravely, 
 although her heart beat twice as fast as usual 
 as monsieur's accusing face rose up before 
 her. 
 
 "It was all my fault," said Jules, ready to 
 cry. "What must I do?" Joyce saw his 
 distress, and with quick womanly tact recog-
 
 92 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 nized her duty as hostess. It would never do to 
 let this, his first Thanksgiving Day, be clouded 
 by a single unhappy remembrance. She would 
 pretend that it was a part of their last game ; 
 so she waved her hand, and said, in a theatrical 
 voice, "You forget, Prince Ethelried, that in 
 the castle of Irmingarde she rules supreme. 
 If it is the pleasure of your royal steeds to 
 feed upon cushions they shall not be denied, 
 even though they choose my own coach 
 pillows, of gold-cloth and velour." 
 
 " But what if Gabriel should tell Brossard ? " 
 questioned Jules, his teeth almost chattering at 
 the mere thought. 
 
 " Oh, never mind, Jules," she answered, laugh- 
 ingly. " Don't worry about a little thing like 
 that. I'll make it all right with madame as 
 soon as she gets home." 
 
 Jules, with utmost faith in Joyce's power to 
 do anything that she might undertake, drew 
 a long breath of relief. Half a dozen times 
 between the gate and the lane that led into 
 the Ciseaux field, he turned around to wave his 
 old cap in answer to the hopeful flutter of her 
 little white handkerchief ; but when he was 
 out of sight she went back to the carriage-
 
 A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE. 3 
 
 house and looked at the wreck of the cushions 
 with a sinking heart. After that second look, 
 she was not so sure of making it all right with 
 madam e. 
 
 Going slowly up to her room, she curled up 
 in the window-seat to wait for the sound of the 
 carriage wheels. The blue parrots on the wall- 
 paper sat in their blue hoops in straight rows 
 from floor to ceiling, and hung all their dismal 
 heads. It seemed to Joyce as if there were 
 thousands of them, and that each one was more 
 unhappy than any of the others. The blue roses 
 on the bed-curtains, that had been in such gay 
 blossom a few hours before, looked ugly and 
 unnatural now. 
 
 Over the mantel hung a picture that had 
 been a pleasure to Joyce ever since she had 
 taken up her abode in this quaint blue room. 
 It was called " A Message from Noel," and 
 showed an angel flying down with gifts to fill 
 a pair of little wooden shoes that some child 
 had put out on a window-sill below. When 
 madame had explained that the little French 
 children put out their shoes for Saint Noel 
 to fill, instead of hanging stockings for Santa 
 Glaus, Joyce had been so charmed with the
 
 94 THE GATE OP THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 picture that she declared that she intended to 
 follow the French custom herself, this year. 
 
 Now, even the picture looked different, since 
 she had lost her joyful anticipations of Christ- 
 mas. "It is all No-el to me now," she sobbed. 
 " No tree, no Santa Claus, and now, since the 
 money must go to pay for the goats' mischief, no 
 presents for anybody in the dear little brown 
 house at home, not even mamma and the 
 baby ! " 
 
 A big salty tear trickled down the side of 
 Joyce's nose and splashed on her hand ; then 
 another one. It was such a gloomy ending for 
 her happy Thanksgiving Day. One consoling 
 thought came to her in time to stop the deluge 
 that threatened. "Anyway, Jules has had a 
 good time for once in his life." The thought 
 cheered her so much that, when Marie came in 
 to light the lamps, Joyce was walking up and 
 down the room with her hands behind her back, 
 singing. 
 
 As soon as she was dressed for dinner she 
 went down-stairs, but found no one in the 
 drawing-room. A small fire burned cozily on 
 the hearth, for the November nights were grow- 
 ing chilly. Joyce picked up a book and tried
 
 A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE. 95 
 
 to read, but found herself looking towards the 
 door fully as often as at the page before her. 
 Presently she set her teeth together and swal- 
 lowed hard, for there was a rustling in the hall. 
 The portiere was pushed aside and madame 
 swept into the room 
 in a dinner-gown of 
 dark red velvet. 
 
 To Joyce's waiting 
 eyes she seemed more 
 imposing, more ele- 
 gant, and more unap- 
 proachable than she 
 had ever been before. 
 At madame's en- 
 trance Joyce rose as 
 usual, but when the 
 red velvet train had 
 swept on to a seat 
 beside the fire, she still remained standing. 
 Her lips seemed glued together after those 
 first words of greeting. 
 
 " Be seated, mademoiselle," said the lady, 
 
 with a graceful motion of her hand towards a 
 
 chair. " How have you enjoyed your holiday ? " 
 
 Joyce gave a final swallow of the choking
 
 9& THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 lump in her throat, and began her humble con- 
 fession that she had framed up-stairs among 
 the rows of dismal blue wall-paper parrots. She 
 started with Clotilde Robard's story of Jules, 
 told of her accidental meeting with him, of all 
 that she knew of his hard life with Brossard, 
 and of her longing for some one to play with. 
 Then she acknowledged that she had planned 
 the barbecue secretly, fearing that madame 
 would not allow her to invite the little goat- 
 herd. At the conclusion, she opened the hand- 
 kerchief which she had been holding tightly 
 clenched in her hand, and poured its contents 
 in the red velvet lap. 
 
 "There's all that is left of my Christmas 
 money," she said, sadly, " seventeen francs 
 and two sous. If it isn't enough to pay for the 
 cushions, I'll write to Cousin Kate, and maybe 
 she will lend me the rest." 
 
 Madame gathered up the handful of coin, 
 and slowly rose. " It is only a step to the car- 
 riage-house," she said. " If you will kindly 
 ring for Berthe to bring a lamp we will look to 
 see how much damage has been done." 
 
 It was an unusual procession that filed down 
 the garden walk a few minutes later. First
 
 A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE. 9/ 
 
 came Berthe, in her black dress and white cap, 
 holding a lamp high above her head, and screw- 
 ing her forehead into a mass of wrinkles as she 
 peered out into the surrounding darkness. 
 After her came madame, holding up her dress 
 and stepping daintily along in her high-heeled 
 little slippers. Joyce brought up the rear, 
 stumbling along in the darkness of madame's 
 large shadow, so absorbed in her troubles that 
 she did not see the amused expression on the 
 face of the grinning satyr in the fountain. 
 
 Eve, looking across at Adam, seemed to wink 
 one of her stony eyes, as much as to say, 
 " Humph ! Somebody else has been getting 
 into trouble. There's more kinds of forbidden 
 fruit than one ; pony-cart cushions, for in- 
 stance." 
 
 Berthe opened the door, and madame stepped 
 inside the carriage-house. With her skirts 
 held high in both hands, she moved around 
 among the wreck of the cushions, turning over 
 a bit with the toe of her slipper now and then. 
 
 Madame wore velvet dinner-gowns, it is true, 
 and her house was elegant in its fine old fur- 
 nishings bought generations ago ; but only her 
 dressmaker and herself knew how many times
 
 98 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 those gowns had been ripped and cleaned and 
 remodelled. It was only constant housewifely 
 skill that kept the antique furniture repaired 
 and the ancient brocade hangings from falling 
 into holes. None but a French woman, trained 
 in petty economies, could have guessed how 
 little money and how much thought was spent 
 in keeping her table up to its high standard of 
 excellence. 
 
 Now as she looked and estimated, counting 
 the fingers of one hand with the thumb of the 
 other, a wish stirred in her kind old heart that 
 she need not take the child's money ; but new 
 cushions must be bought, and she must be just 
 to herself before she could be generous to 
 others. So she went on with her estimating 
 and counting, and then called Gabriel to con- 
 sult with him. 
 
 " Much of the same hair can be used again," 
 she said, finally, " and the cushions were partly 
 worn, so that it would not be right for you to 
 have to bear the whole expense of new ones. 
 I shall keep sixteen, no, I shall keep only 
 fifteen francs of your money, mademoiselle. I 
 am sorry to take any of it, since you have been 
 so frank with me ; but you must see that it
 
 A THANKSGIVING BARBECUE. 99 
 
 would not be justice for me to have to suffer in 
 consequence of your fault. In France, children 
 do nothing without the permission of their 
 elders, and it would be well for you to adopt 
 the same rule, my dear mademoiselle." 
 
 Here she dropped two francs and two sous 
 into Joyce's hand. It was more than she had 
 dared to hope for. Now there would be at 
 least a little picture-book apiece for the chil 
 dren at home. 
 
 This time Joyce saw the grin on the satyr's 
 face when they passed the fountain. She was 
 smiling herself when they entered the house, 
 where monsieur was waiting to escort them 
 politely in to dinner.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. 
 
 MONSIEUR CISEAUX was coming home to live. 
 Gabriel brought the news when he came back 
 from market. He had met Henri on the road 
 and heard it from him. Monsieur was coming 
 home. That was all they knew ; as to the day 
 or the hour, no one could guess. That was the 
 way with monsieur, Henri said. He was so 
 peculiar one never knew what to expect. 
 
 Although the work of opening the great 
 house was begun immediately, and a thorough 
 cleaning was in progress from garret to cellar, 
 Brossard did not believe that his master would 
 really be at home before the end of the week. 
 He made his own plans accordingly, although 
 he hurried Henri relentlessly with the cleaning. 
 
 As soon as Joyce heard the news she made 
 an excuse to slip away, and ran down to the 
 field to Jules. She found him paler than
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. IOI 
 
 usual, and there was a swollen look about his 
 eyes that made her think that maybe he had 
 been crying. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " she asked. " Aren't 
 you glad that your uncle is coming home ? " 
 
 Jules gave a cautious glance over his shoulder 
 towards the house, and then looked up at Joyce. 
 Heretofore, some inward monitor of pride had 
 closed his lips about himself whenever he had 
 been with her, but, since the Thanksgiving Day 
 that had made them such firm friends, he had 
 wished every hour that he could tell her of his 
 troubles. He felt that she was the only person 
 in the world who took any interest in him. 
 Although she was only three years older than 
 himself, she had that "motherly little way with 
 her that eldest daughters are apt to acquire 
 when there is a whole brood of little brothers 
 and sisters constantly claiming attention. 
 
 So when Joyce asked again, "What's the 
 matter, Jules ? " with so much anxious sym- 
 pathy in her face and voice, the child found 
 himself blurting out the truth. 
 
 "Brossard beat me again last night," he 
 exclaimed. Then, in response to her indignant 
 exclamation, he poured out the whole story of
 
 IO2 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 his ill-treatment. " See here ! " he cried, in 
 conclusion, unbuttoning his blouse and baring 
 his thin little shoulders. Great red welts lay 
 across them, and one arm was blue with a big 
 mottled bruise. 
 
 Joyce shivered and closed her eyes an instant 
 to shut out the sight that brought the quick 
 tears of sympathy. 
 
 " Oh, you poor little thing ! " she cried. " I'm 
 going to tell madame." 
 
 " No, don't ! " begged Jules. " If Brossard 
 ever found out that I had told anybody, I 
 believe that he would half kill me. He pun- 
 ishes me for the least thing. I had no break- 
 fast this morning because I dropped an old 
 plate and broke it." 
 
 "Do you mean to say," cried Joyce, "that 
 you have been out here in the field since sun- 
 rise without a bite to eat ? " 
 
 Jules nodded. 
 
 "Then I'm going straight home to get you 
 something." Before he could answer she was 
 darting over the fields like a little flying squirrel. 
 
 " Oh, what if it were Jack!" she kept repeat- 
 ing as she ran. " Dear old Jack, beaten and 
 starved, without anybody to love him or say a
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. IO3 
 
 kind word to him." The mere thought of such 
 misfortune brought a sob. 
 
 In a very few minutes Jules saw her coming 
 across the field again, more slowly this time, 
 for both hands were full, and without their aid 
 she had no way to steady the big hat that 
 flapped forward into her eyes at every step. 
 Jules eyed the food ravenously. He had not 
 known how weak and hungry he was until 
 then. 
 
 " It will not be like this when your uncle 
 comes home," said Joyce, as she watched the 
 big mouthfuls disappear down the grateful 
 little throat. Jules shrugged his shoulders, 
 answering tremulously, " Oh, yes, it will be lots 
 worse. Brossard says that my Uncle Martin 
 has a terrible temper, and that he turned his 
 poor sister and my grandfather out of the 
 house one stormy might. Brossard says he 
 shall tell him how troublesome I am, and 
 likely he will turn me out, too. Or, if he 
 doesn't do that, they will both whip me every 
 day." 
 
 Joyce stamped her foot. " I don't believe 
 it," she cried, indignantly. " Brossard is only 
 trying to scare you. Your uncle is an old man
 
 IO4 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 now, so old that he must be sorry for the way 
 he acted when he was young. Why, of course 
 he must be," she repeated, "or he never would 
 have brought you here when you were left a 
 homeless baby. More than 'that, I believe he 
 will be angry when he finds how you have been 
 treated. Maybe he will send Brossard away 
 when you tell him." 
 
 "I would not dare to tell him," said Jules, 
 shrinking back at the bare suggestion. 
 
 "Then / dare," cried Joyce with flashing 
 eyes. " I am not afraid of Brossard or Henri 
 or your uncle, or any man that I ever knew. 
 What's more, I intend to march over here 
 just as soon as your uncle comes home, and tell 
 him right before Brossard how you have been 
 treated." 
 
 Jules gasped in admiration of such reckless 
 courage. " Seems to me Brossard himself 
 would be afraid of you if you looked at him 
 that way." Then his voice sank to a whisper. 
 " Brossard is afraid of one thing, I've heard 
 him tell Henri so, and that is ghosts. They 
 talk about them every night when the wind 
 blows hard and makes queer noises in the 
 chimney. Sometimes they are afraid to put
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. 10$ 
 
 out their candles for fear some evil spirit 
 might be in the room." 
 
 "I'm glad he is afraid of something, the 
 mean old thing ! " exclaimed Joyce. For a 
 few moments nothing more was said, but 
 Jules felt comforted now that he had unbur- 
 dened his long pent up little heart. He 
 reached out for several blades of grass and 
 began idly twisting them around his finger. 
 
 Joyce sat with her hands clasped over her 
 knees, and a wicked little gleam in her eyes 
 that boded mischief. Presently she giggled 
 as if some amusing thought had occurred to 
 her, and when Jules looked up inquiringly she 
 began noiselessly clapping her hands together. 
 
 " I've thought of the best thing," she said. 
 "I'll fix old Brossard now. Jack and I have 
 played ghost many a time, and have even 
 scared each other while we were doing it, 
 because we were so frightful-looking. We 
 put long sheets all over us and went about 
 with pumpkin jack-o'-lanterns on our heads. 
 Oh, we looked awful, all in white, with fire 
 shining out of those hideous eyes and mouths. 
 If I knew when Brossard was likely to whip 
 you again, I'd suddenly appear on the scene
 
 IO6 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 and shriek out like a banshee and make him 
 stop. Wouldn't it be lovely ? " she cried, 
 more carried away with the idea the longer 
 she thought of it. " Why, it would be like 
 acting our fairy story. You are the Prince, 
 and I will be the giant scissors and rescue 
 you from the Ogre. Now let me see if I 
 can think of a rhyme for you to say when- 
 ever you need me." 
 
 Joyce put her hands over her ears and began 
 to mumble something that had no meaning 
 whatever for Jules : " Ghost post roast 
 toast, no that will never do ; need speed 
 deed, no ! Help yelp (I wish I could make 
 him yelp), friend spend lend, that's it. 
 I shall try that." 
 
 There was a long silence, during which Joyce 
 whispered to herself with closed eyes. "Now 
 I've got it," she announced, triumphantly, "and 
 it's every bit as good as Cousin Kate's : 
 
 " Giant scissors, fearless friend, 
 Hasten, pray, thy aid to lend. 
 
 " If you could just say that loud enough for 
 
 me to hear I'd come rushing in and save you." 
 
 Jules repeated the rhyme several times, until
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. 1 07 
 
 he was sure that he could remember it, and 
 then Joyce stood up to go. 
 
 " Good-by, fearless friend," said Jules. "I 
 wish I were brave like you." Joyce smiled 
 in a superior sort of way, much flattered by 
 the new title. Going home across the field 
 she held her head a trifle higher than usual, 
 and carried on an imaginary conversation with 
 Brossard, in which she made him quail before 
 her scathing rebukes. 
 
 Joyce did not take her usual walk that after- 
 noon. She spent the time behind locked doors 
 busy with paste, scissors, and a big muff-box, 
 the best foundation she could find for a jack- 
 o'-lantern. First she covered the box with 
 white paper and cut a hideous face in one 
 side, great staring eyes, and a frightful 
 grinning mouth. With a bit of wire she 
 fastened a candle inside and shut down the 
 lid. 
 
 " Looks too much like a box yet," she said, 
 after a critical examination. " It needs some 
 hair and a beard. Wonder what I can make 
 it of." She glanced all around the room for a 
 suggestion, and then closed her eyes to think. 
 Finally she went over to her bed, and, turning
 
 IO8 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 the covers back from one corner, began ripping 
 a seam in the mattress. When the opening 
 was wide enough she put in her thumb and 
 finger and pulled out a handful of the curled 
 hair. " I can easily put it back when I have 
 used it, and sew up the hole 
 in the mattress," she said to 
 her conscience. " My ! This 
 is exactly what I needed." 
 The hair was mixed, 
 white and black, 
 coarse and curly as 
 a negro's wool. 
 
 She covered the top 
 of the pasteboard head 
 with it, and was so 
 pleased that she added 
 long beard and fierce 
 mustache to the al- 
 ready hideous mouth. When that was all 
 done she took it into a dark closet and 
 lighted the candle. The monster's head 
 glared at her from the depth of the closet, 
 and she skipped back and forth in front of it, 
 wringing her hands in delight. 
 
 " Oh, if Jack could only see it ! If he could
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. IOQ 
 
 only see it ! " she kept exclaiming. " It is 
 better than any pumpkin head we ever made, 
 and scary enough to throw old Brossard into a 
 fit. I can hardly wait until it is dark enough 
 to go over." 
 
 Meanwhile the short winter day drew on 
 towards the close. Jules, out in the field with 
 the goats, walked back and forth, back and forth, 
 trying to keep warm. Brossard, who had gone 
 five miles down the Paris road to bargain about 
 some grain, sat comfortably in a little tobacco 
 shop, with a pipe in his mouth and a glass and 
 bottle on the table at his elbow. Henri was 
 at home, still scrubbing and cleaning. The 
 front of the great house was in order, with 
 even the fires laid on all the hearths ready 
 for lighting. Now he was scrubbing the back 
 stairs. His brush bumped noisily against the 
 steps, and the sound of its scouring was nearly 
 drowned by the jerky tune which the old fellow 
 sung through his nose as he worked. 
 
 A carriage drove slowly down the road and 
 stopped at the gate with the scissors ; then, in 
 obedience to some command from within, the 
 vehicle drove on to the smaller gate beyond. 
 An old man with white hair . and bristling
 
 IIO THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 mustache slowly alighted. The master had 
 come home. He put out his hand as if to 
 ring the bell, then on second thought drew 
 a key from his pocket and fitted it in the 
 lock. The gate swung back and he passed 
 inside. The old house looked gray and for- 
 bidding in the dull light of the late afternoon. 
 He frowned up at it, and it frowned down on 
 him, standing there as cold and grim as itself. 
 That was his only welcome. 
 
 The doors and windows were all shut, so 
 that he caught only a faint sound of the 
 bump, thump of the scrubbing-brush as it 
 accompanied Henri's high-pitched tune down 
 the back stairs. 
 
 Without giving any warning of his arrival, he 
 motioned the man beside the jo?chman to fol- 
 low with his trunk, and silently ed the way 
 up-stairs. When the trunk had been unstrapped 
 and the man had departed, monsieui gave one 
 slow glance all around the room. It was in 
 perfect readiness for him. He set a match to 
 the kindling laid in the grate, and then closed 
 the door into the hall. The master had come 
 home again, more silent, more mysterious in 
 his movements than before.
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. Ill 
 
 Henri finished his scrubbing and his song, 
 and, going down into the kitchen, began prep- 
 arations for supper. A long time after, Jules 
 came up from the field, put the goats in 
 their place, and crept in behind the kitchen 
 stove. 
 
 Then it was that Joyce, from her watch-tower 
 of her window, saw Brossard driving home in 
 the market-cart. "Maybe I'll have a chance 
 to scare him while he is putting the horse up 
 and feeding it," she thought. It was in the 
 dim gloaming when she could easily slip along 
 by the hedges without attracting attention. 
 Bareheaded, and in breathless haste to reach 
 the barn before Brossard, she ran down the 
 road, keeping close to the hedge, along which 
 the wind raced also, blowing the dead leaves 
 almost as high as her head. 
 
 Slipping through a hole in the hedge, just 
 as Brossard drove in at the gate, she ran into 
 the barn and crouched down behind the door, 
 There she wrapped herself in the sheet that she 
 had brought with her for the purpose, and pro- 
 ceeded to strike a match to light the lantern. 
 The first one flickered and went out. The 
 second did the same. Brossard was calling
 
 112 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 angrily for Jules now, and she struck another 
 match in nervous haste, this time touching the 
 wick with it before the wind could interfere. 
 Then she drew her dress over the lantern to 
 hide the light. 
 
 "Wouldn't Jack enjoy this," she thought, 
 with a daring little giggle that almost betrayed 
 her hiding-place. 
 
 " I tell thee it is thy fault," cried Brossard's 
 angry voice, drawing nearer the barn. 
 
 " But I tried," began Jules, timidly. 
 
 His trembling excuse was interrupted by 
 Brossard, who had seized him by the arm. 
 They were now on the threshold of the barn, 
 which was as dark as a pocket inside. 
 
 Joyce, peeping through the crack of the door, 
 saw the man's arm raised in the dim twilight 
 outside. " Oh, he is really going to beat him," 
 she thought, turning faint at the prospect. Then 
 her indignation overcame every other feeling as 
 she heard a heavy halter-strap whiz through the 
 air and fall with a sickening blow across Jules's 
 shoulders. She had planned a scene something 
 like this while she worked away at the lantern 
 that afternoon. Now she felt as if she were 
 acting a part in some private theatrical perform-
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. 113 
 
 ance. Jules' s cry gave her the cue, and the 
 courage to appear. 
 
 As the second blow fell across Jules's smart- 
 ing shoulders, a low, blood-curdling wail came 
 from the dark depths of the barn. Joyce had 
 not practised that dismal moan of a banshee to 
 no purpose in her ghost dances at home with 
 Jack. It rose and fell and quivered and rose 
 again in cadences of horror. There was some- 
 thing awful, something inhuman, in that fiendish, 
 long-drawn shriek. 
 
 Brossard's arm fell to his side paralyzed with 
 fear, as that same hoarse voice cried, solemnly : 
 " Brossard, beware ! Beware ! " But worse than 
 that voice of sepulchral warning was the white- 
 sheeted figure, coming towards him with a wav- 
 ering, ghostly motion, fire shooting from the 
 demon-like eyes, and flaming from the hideous 
 mouth. 
 
 Brossard sank on his knees in a shivering 
 heap, and began crossing himself. His hair 
 was upright with horror, and his tongue stiff. 
 Jules knew who it was that danced around 
 them in such giddy circles, first darting towards 
 them with threatening gestures, and then glid- 
 ing back to utter one of those awful, sickening
 
 114 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 wails. He knew that under that fiery head and 
 wrapped in that spectral dress was his " f eai Cess 
 friend," who, according to promise, had hastened 
 her aid to lend ; nevertheless, he was afraid of 
 her himself. He had never imagined that 
 anything could look so terrifying. 
 
 The wail reached Henri's ears and aroused 
 his curiosity. Cautiously opening the kitchen 
 door, he thrust out his head, and then nearly 
 fell backward in his haste to draw it in again 
 and slam the door. One glimpse of the 
 ghost in the barnyard was quite enough for 
 Henri. 
 
 Altogether the performance probably did not 
 last longer than a minute, but each of the sixty 
 seconds seemed endless to Brossard. With a 
 final die-away moan Joyce glided towards the 
 gate, delighted beyond measure with her suc- 
 cess ; but her delight did not last long. Just 
 as she turned the corner of the house, some 
 one standing in the shadow of it clutched her. 
 A strong arm was thrown around her, and a 
 firm hand snatched the lantern, and tore the 
 sheet away from her face. 
 
 It was Joyce's turn to be terrified. " Let me 
 go ! " she shrieked, in English. With one des-
 
 "'BROSSARD, BEWARE! BEWARE 1"'
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. 1 1/ 
 
 perate wrench she broke away, and by the light 
 of the grinning jack-o'-lantern saw who was her 
 captor. She was face to face with Monsieur 
 Ciseaux. 
 
 " What does this mean ? " he asked, severely. 
 " Why do you come masquerading here to 
 frighten my servants in this manner ? " 
 
 For an instant Joyce stood speechless. Her 
 boasted courage had forsaken her. It was only 
 for an instant, however, for the rhyme that 
 she had made seemed to sound in her ears as 
 distinctly as if Jules were calling to her : 
 
 " Giant scissors, fearless friend, 
 Hasten, pray, thy aid to lend." 
 
 "I will be a fearless friend," she thought. 
 Looking defiantly up into the angry face she 
 demanded : " Then why do you keep such ser- 
 vants ? I came because they needed to be 
 frightened, and I'm glad you caught me, for I 
 told Jules that I should tell you about them as 
 soon as you got home. Brossard has starved 
 and beaten him like a dog ever since he has 
 been here. I just hope that you will look at 
 the stripes and bruises on his poor little back. 
 He begged me not to tell, for Brossard said you
 
 Il8 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 would likely drive him away, as you did your 
 brother and sister. But even if you do, the 
 neighbors say that an orphan asylum would be 
 a far better home for Jules than this has been. 
 I hope you'll excuse me, monsieur, I truly do, 
 but I'm an American, and I can't stand by and 
 keep still when I see anybody being abused, 
 even if I am a girl, and it isn't polite for me to 
 talk so to older people." 
 
 Joyce fired out the words as if they had been 
 bullets, and so rapidly that monsieur could 
 scarcely follow her meaning. Then, having 
 relieved her mind, and fearing that maybe she 
 had been rude in speaking so forcibly to such 
 an old gentleman, she very humbly begged his 
 pardon. Before he could recover from her 
 rapid change in manner and her torrent of 
 words, she reached out her hand, saying, in the 
 meekest of little voices, " And will you please 
 give me back those things, monsieur ? The 
 sheet is Madame Greville's, and I've got to 
 stuff that hair back in the mattress to-night." 
 
 Monsieur gave them to her, still too aston- 
 ished for words. He had never before heard 
 any child speak in such a way. This one 
 seemed more like a wild, uncanny little sprite
 
 JOYCE PLAYS GHOST. IIQ 
 
 than like any of the little girls he had known 
 heretofore. Before he could recover from his 
 bewilderment, Joyce had gone. " Good night, 
 monsieur," she called, as the gate clanged 
 behind her.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OLD " NUMBER THIRTY - ONE." 
 
 No sooner had the gate closed upon the 
 subdued little ghost, shorn now of its terrors, 
 than the old man strode forward to the place 
 where Brossard crouched in the straw, still 
 crossing himself. This sudden appearance of 
 his master at such a time only added to Bros- 
 sard's fright. As for Jules, his knees shook 
 until he could scarcely stand. 
 
 Henri, his curiosity lending him courage, 
 cautiously opened the kitchen door to peer out 
 again. Emboldened by the silence, he flung 
 the door wide open, sending a broad stream of 
 lamplight across the little group in the barnyard. 
 Without a word of greeting monsieur laid hold 
 of the trembling Jules and drew him nearer 
 the door. Throwing open the child's blouse, 
 he examined the thin little shoulders, which
 
 OLD "NUMBER THIRTY - ONE.' 
 
 121 
 
 shrank away as if to dodge some expected 
 blow. 
 
 "Go to my room," was all the old man said 
 to him. Then he turned fiercely towards Bros- 
 
 sard. His angry tones reached Jules even after 
 he had mounted the stairs and closed the door. 
 The child crept close to the cheerful fire, and, 
 crouching down on the rug, waited in a shiver 
 of nervousness for his uncle's step on the 
 stair.
 
 122 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Meanwhile, Joyce, hurrying home all a-tingle 
 with the excitement of her adventure, wondered 
 anxiously what would be the result of it. Under 
 cover of the dusk she slipped into the house un- 
 observed. There was barely time to dress for 
 dinner. When she made her appearance mon- 
 sieur complimented her unusually red cheeks. 
 
 "Doubtless mademoiselle has had a fine 
 promenade," he said. 
 
 "No," answered Joyce, with a blush that 
 made them redder still, and that caused ma 
 dame to look at her so keenly that she felt 
 those sharp eyes must be reading her inmost 
 thoughts. It disturbed her so that she upset 
 the salt, spilled a glass of water, and started to 
 eat her soup with a fork. She glanced in an 
 embarrassed way from madame to monsieur, 
 and gave a nervous little laugh. 
 
 "The little mademoiselle has been in mis- 
 chief again," remarked monsieur, with a smile. 
 " What is it this time ? " 
 
 The smile was so encouraging that Joyce's 
 determination not to tell melted away, and she 
 began a laughable account of the afternoon's 
 adventure. At first both the old people looked 
 .shocked. Monsieur shrugged his shoulders and
 
 OLD "NUMBER THIRTY -ONE." 123 
 
 pulled his gray beard thoughtfully. Madame 
 threw up her hands at the end of each sen- 
 tence like horrified little exclamation points. 
 But when Joyce had told the entire story 
 neither of them had a word of blame, because 
 their sympathies were so thoroughly aroused 
 for Jules. 
 
 " I shall ask Monsieur Ciseaux to allow the 
 child to visit here sometimes," said madame, 
 her kind old heart full of pity for the mother- 
 less little fellow ; " and I shall also explain that 
 it was only your desire to save Jules from 
 ill treatment that caused you to do such an 
 unusual thing. Otherwise he might think you 
 too bold and too well, peculiar, to be a fit 
 playmate for his little nephew." 
 
 " Oh, was it really so improper and horrid of 
 me, madame ? " asked Joyce, anxiously. 
 
 Madame hesitated. " The circumstances were 
 some excuse," she finally admitted. "But I 
 certainly should not want a little daughter of 
 mine to be out after dark by herself on such 
 a wild errand. In this country a little girl 
 would not think it possible to do such a thing." 
 
 Joyce's face was very sober as she arose to 
 leave the room. "I do wish that I could be
 
 124 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 proper like little French girls," she said, with 
 a sigh. 
 
 Madame drew her towards her, kissing her 
 on both cheeks. It was such an unusual thing 
 for madame to do that Joyce could scarcely 
 help showing some surprise. Feeling that the 
 caress was an assurance that she was not in 
 disgrace, as she had feared, she ran up-stairs, 
 so light-hearted that she sang on the way. 
 
 As the door closed behind her, monsieur 
 reached for his pipe, saying, as he did so, " She 
 has a heart of gold, the little mademoiselle." 
 
 "Yes," assented madame; "but she is a 
 strange little body, so untamed and original. 
 I am glad that her cousin returns soon, for the 
 responsibility is too great for my old shoulders. 
 One never knows what she will do next." 
 
 Perhaps it was for this reason that madame 
 took Joyce with her when she went to Tours 
 next day. She felt safer when the child was 
 in her sight. 
 
 " It is so much nicer going around with you 
 than Marie," said Joyce, giving madame an 
 affectionate little pat, as they stood before the 
 entrance of a great square building, awaiting 
 admission. "You take me to places that I
 
 OLD "NUMBER THIRTY - ONE." 1 25 
 
 have never seen before. What place is this ? " 
 She stooped to read the inscription on the 
 dooi -plate: 
 
 "LITTLE SISTERS OF THE POOR." 
 
 Before her question could be answered, the 
 door was opened by a wrinkled old woman, in a 
 nodding white cap, who led them into a recep- 
 tion-room at the end of the hall. 
 
 "Ask for Sister Denisa," said madame, "and 
 give her my name." 
 
 The old woman shuffled out of the room, 
 and madame, taking a small memorandum book 
 from her pocket, began to study it. Joyce sat 
 looking about her with sharp, curious glances. 
 She wondered if these little sisters of the poor 
 were barefoot beggar girls, who went about the 
 streets with ragged shawls over their heads, 
 and with baskets in their hands. In her lively 
 imagination she pictured row after row of such 
 unfortunate children, marching out in the morn- 
 ing, empty-handed, and creeping back at night 
 with the results of the day's begging. She did 
 not like to ask about them, however, and, in a 
 few minutes, her curiosity was satisfied without 
 the use of questions.
 
 126 THE GATE OF THE GlANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Sister Denisa entered the room. She was a 
 beautiful woman, in the plain black habit and 
 white head-dress of a sister of charity. 
 
 " Oh, they're nuns ! " exclaimed Joyce, in a 
 disappointed whisper. She had been hoping to 
 see the beggar girls. She had often passed the 
 convent in St. Symphorien, and caught glimpses 
 of the nuns, through the high barred gate. She 
 had wondered how it must feel to be shut away 
 from the world ; to see only the patient white 
 faces of the other sisters, and to walk with 
 meekly folded hands and downcast eyes always 
 in the same old paths. 
 
 But Sister Denisa was different from the 
 nuns that she had seen before. Some inward 
 joy seemed to shine through her beautiful face 
 and make it radiant. She laughed often, and 
 there was a happy twinkle in her clear, gray 
 eyes. When she came into the room, she 
 seemed to bring the outdoors with her, there 
 was such sunshine and fresh air in the cheeri- 
 ness of her greeting. 
 
 Madame had come to visit an old pensioner 
 of hers who was in the home. After a short 
 conversation, Sister Denisa rose to lead the 
 way to her. "Would the little mademoiselle
 
 JOYCE AND SISTER DENISA.
 
 OLD "NUMBER THIRTY -ONE." 129 
 
 like to go through the house while madame 
 is engaged?" asked the nun. 
 
 " Oh, yes, thank you," answered Joyce, who 
 had found by this time that this home was not 
 for little beggar girls, but for old men and 
 women. Joyce had known very few old people 
 in her short life, except her Grandmother Ware ; 
 and this grandmother was one of those dear, 
 sunny old souls, whom everybody loves to 
 claim, whether they are in the family or not. 
 Some of Joyce's happiest days had been spent 
 in her grandmother's country home, and the 
 host of happy memories that she had stored 
 up during those visits served to sweeten all 
 her after life. 
 
 Old age, to Joyce, was associated with the 
 most beautiful things that she had ever known : 
 the warmest hospitality, the tenderest love, the 
 cheeriest home-life. Strangers were in the old 
 place now, and Grandmother Ware was no 
 longer living, but, for her sake, Joyce held 
 sacred every wrinkled face set round with 
 snow-white hair, just as she looked tenderly 
 on all old-fashioned flowers, because she had 
 seen them first in her grandmother's garden. 
 
 Sister Denisa led the way into a large, sunny
 
 I3O THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 room, and Joyce looked around eagerly. It 
 was crowded with old men. Some were sit- 
 ting idly on the benches around the walls, or 
 dozing in chairs near the stove. Some smoked, 
 some gathered around the tables where games 
 of checkers and chess were going on ; some 
 gazed listlessly out of the windows. It was 
 good to see how dull faces brightened, as 
 Sister Denisa passed by with a smile for this 
 group, a cheery word for the next. She 
 stopped to brush the hair back from the fore- 
 head of an old paralytic, and pushed another 
 man gently aside, when he blocked the way, 
 with such a sweet-voiced " Pardon, little father," 
 that it was like a caress. One white-haired old 
 fellow, in his second childhood, reached out and 
 caught at her dress, as she passed by. 
 
 Crossing a porch where were more old men 
 sitting sadly alone, or walking sociably up and 
 down in the sunshine, Sister Denisa passed 
 along a court and held the door open for Joyce 
 to enter another large room. 
 
 " Here is the rest of our family," she said. 
 " A large one, is it not ? Two hundred poor 
 old people that nobody wants, and nobody 
 cares what becomes of."
 
 OLD " NUMBER THIRTY - ONE." 1 3 1 
 
 Joyce looked around the room and saw on 
 every hand old age that had nothing beautiful, 
 nothing attractive. " Were they beggars when 
 they were little ? " she asked. 
 
 "No, indeed," answered the nun. "That is 
 the saddest part of it to me. Nearly all these 
 poor creatures you see here once had happy 
 homes of their own. That pitiful old body 
 over by the stove, shaking with palsy, was 
 once a gay, rich countess ; the invalid whom 
 madame visits was a marquise. It would break 
 your heart, mademoiselle, to hear the stories of 
 some of these people, especially those who have 
 been cast aside by ungrateful children, to whom 
 their support has become a burden. Several of 
 these women have prosperous grandchildren, to 
 whom we have appealed in vain. There is no 
 cruelty that hurts me like such cruelty to old 
 age." 
 
 Just then another nun came into the room, said 
 something to Sister Denisa in a low voice, and 
 glided out like a silent shadow, her rosary sway- 
 ing back and forth with every movement of her 
 clinging black skirts. " I am needed up-stairs," 
 said Sister Denisa, turning to Joyce. " Will 
 you come up and see the sleeping-rooms ? "
 
 132 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 They went up the freshly scrubbed steps to 
 a great dormitory, where, against the bare walls, 
 stood long rows of narrow cots. They were all 
 empty, except one at the farthest end, where 
 an old woman lay with her handkerchief across 
 her eyes. 
 
 "Poor old Number Thirty-one!" said Sister 
 Denisa. " She seems to feel her unhappy 
 position more than any one in the house. 
 The most of them are thankful for mere 
 bodily comfort, satisfied with food and shel- 
 ter and warmth ; but she is continually pining 
 for her old home surroundings. Will you not 
 eome and speak to her in English ? She mar- 
 ried a countryman of yours, and lived over 
 thirty years in America. She speaks of that 
 time as the happiest in her life. I am sure 
 that you can give her a great deal of pleasure." 
 
 " Is she ill ? " said Joyce, timidly drawing 
 back as the nun started across the room. 
 
 " No, I think not," was the answer. " She 
 says she can't bear to be herded in one room 
 with all those poor creatures, like a flock of 
 sheep, with nothing to do but wait for death. 
 She has always been accustomed to having a 
 room of her own, so that her greatest trial is
 
 OLD "NUMBER THIRTY - ONE. 133 
 
 in having no privacy. She must eat, sleep, and 
 live with a hundred other old women always 
 around her. She comes up here to bed when- 
 ever she can find the slightest ache for an 
 excuse, just to be by herself. I wish that 
 we could give her a little spot that she could 
 call her own, and shut the door on, and feel 
 alone. But it cannot be," she added, with a 
 sigh. " It taxes our strength to the utmost to 
 give them all even a bare home." 
 
 By this time they had reached the cot, over 
 the head of which hung a card, bearing the 
 number "Thirty-one." 
 
 " Here is a little friend to see you, grand- 
 mother," said Sister Denisa, placing a chair by 
 the bedside, and stooping to smooth back the 
 locks of silvery hair that had strayed out from 
 under the coarse white night-cap. Then she 
 passed quickly on to her other duties, leaving 
 Joyce to begin the conversation as best she 
 could. The old woman looked at her sharply 
 with piercing dark eyes, which must have been 
 beautiful in their youth. The intense gaze 
 embarrassed Joyce, and to break the silence 
 she hurriedly stammered out the first thing 
 that came to her mind.
 
 134 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 " Are you ill, to-day ? " 
 
 The simple question had a startling effect on 
 the old woman. She raised herself on one 
 
 elbow, and reached out for Joyce's hand, draw- 
 ing her eagerly nearer. " Ah," she cried, " you 
 speak the language that my husband taught 
 me to love, and the tongue my little children
 
 OLD "NUMBER THIRTY - ONE." 135 
 
 lisped ; but they are all dead now, and I've 
 come back to my native land to find no home 
 but the one that charity provides." 
 
 Her words ended in a wail, and she sank 
 back on her pillow. " And this is my birth- 
 day," she went on. " Seventy-three years 
 old, and a pauper, cast out to the care of 
 strangers." 
 
 The tears ran down her wrinkled cheeks, and 
 her mouth trembled pitifully. Joyce was dis- 
 tressed ; she looked around for Sister Denisa, 
 but saw that they were alone, they two, in the 
 great bare dormitory, with its long rows of 
 narrow white cots. The child felt utterly help- 
 less to speak a word of comfort, although she 
 was so sorry for the poor lonely old creature 
 that she began to cry softly to herself. She 
 leaned over, and taking one of the thin, blue- 
 veined hands in hers, patted it tenderly with 
 her plump little fingers. 
 
 " I ought not to complain," said the tremb- 
 ling voice, still broken by sobs. " We have food 
 and shelter and sunshine and the sisters. Ah, 
 that little Sister Denisa, she is indeed a smile 
 of God to us all. But at seventy-three one 
 wants more than a cup of coffee and a clean
 
 136 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 handkerchief. One wants something besides a 
 bed and being just Number Thirty-one among 
 two hundred other paupers." 
 
 " I am so sorry ! " exclaimed Joyce, with such 
 heartfelt earnestness that the sobbing woman 
 felt the warmth of her sympathy, and looked 
 up with a brighter face. 
 
 "Talk to me," she exclaimed. " It has been 
 so long since I have heard your language." 
 
 While she obeyed Joyce kept thinking of her 
 Grandmother Ware. She could see her out, 
 doors among her flowers, the dahlias and touch- 
 me-nots, the four-o'clocks and the cinnamon 
 roses, taking such pride and pleasure in her 
 sweet posy beds. She could see her beside the 
 little table on the shady porch, making tea for 
 some old neighbor who had dropped in to 
 spend the afternoon with her. Or she was 
 asleep in her armchair by the western window, 
 her Bible in her lap and a smile on her 
 sweet, kindly face. How dreary and empty the 
 days must seem to poor old Number Thirty- 
 one, with none of these things to brighten 
 them. 
 
 Joyce could scarcely keep the tears out of 
 her voice while she talked. Later, when Sister
 
 OLD ''NUMBER THIRTY - ONE." 137 
 
 Denisa came back, Joyce was softly humming a 
 lullaby, and Number Thirty-one, with a smile 
 on her pitiful old face, was sleeping like a little 
 child. 
 
 " You will come again, dear mademoiselle," 
 said Sister Denisa, as she kissed the child 
 good-by at the door. " You have brought a 
 blessing, may you carry one awa> as well ! " 
 
 Joyce looked inquiringly at madame. " You 
 may come whenever you like," was the answer. 
 "Marie can bring you whenever you are in 
 town." 
 
 Joyce was so quiet on the way home that 
 madame feared the day had been too fatiguing 
 for her. " No," said Joyce, soberly. " I was only 
 thinking about poor old Number Thirty-one. 
 I am sorrier for her than I was for Jules. I 
 used to think that there was nothing so sad 
 as being a little child without any father or 
 mother, and having to live in an asylum. I've 
 often thought how lovely it would be to go 
 around and find a beautiful home for every 
 little orphan in the world. But I believe, now, 
 that it is worse to be old that way. Old peo- 
 ple can't play together, and they haven't any- 
 thing to look forward to, and it makes them so
 
 138 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 miserable to remember all the things they have 
 had and lost. If I had enough money to adopt 
 anybody, I would adopt some poor old grand- 
 father or grandmother and make'm happy all 
 the rest of their days,"
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CHRISTMAS PLANS AND AN ACCIDENT. 
 
 THAT night, when Marie came in to light the 
 lamps and brush Joyce's hair before dinner, she 
 had some news to tell. 
 
 " Brossard has been sent away from the Ci- 
 seaux place," she said. " A new man is com- 
 ing to-morrow, and my friend, Clotilde Robard, 
 has already taken the position of housekeeper. 
 She says that a very different life has begun 
 for little Monsieur Jules, and that in his fine 
 new clothes one could never recognize the 
 little goatherd. He looks now like what he 
 is, a gentleman's son. He has the room next 
 to monsieur's, all freshly furnished, and after 
 New Year a tutor is coming from Paris. 
 
 " But they say that it is pitiful to see how 
 greatly the child fears his uncle. He does not 
 understand the old man's cold, forbidding man- 
 ner, and it provokes monsieur to have the 
 139
 
 I4O THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 little one tremble and grow pale whenever he 
 speaks. Clotilde says that Madame Greville 
 told monsieur that the boy needed games and 
 young companions to make him more likf 
 other children, and he promised her that Mon 
 sieur Jules should come over here to-morrov 
 afternoon to play with you." 
 
 " Oh, good ! " cried Joyce. " We'll have 
 another barbecue if the day is fine. I am so 
 glad that we do not have to be bothered any 
 more by those tiresome old goats." 
 
 By the time the next afternoon arrived, how- 
 ever, Joyce was far too much interested in some- 
 thing else to think of a barbecue. Cousin Kate 
 had come back from Paris with a trunk full of 
 pretty things, and a plan for the coming Christ- 
 mas. At first she thought of taking only ma- 
 dame into her confidence, and preparing a small 
 Christmas tree for Joyce ; but afterwards she 
 concluded that it would give the child more 
 pleasure if she were allowed to take part in the 
 preparations. It would keep her from being 
 homesick by giving her something else to think 
 about. 
 
 Then madame proposed inviting a few of 
 the little peasant children who had never seen
 
 CHRISTMAS PLANS AND AN ACCIDENT. 14! 
 
 a Christmas tree. The more they discussed 
 the plan the larger it grew, like a rolling 
 snowball. By lunch-time madame had a list 
 of thirty children, who were to 
 be bidden to the Noel fete, and 
 Cousin Kate had decided to order 
 a tree tall enough to touch the 
 ceiling. 
 
 When Jules came over, awkward 
 and shy with the consciousness of 
 his new clothes, he found Joyce 
 sitting in the midst of yards of 
 gaily colored tarletan. It was 
 heaped up around her in bright 
 masses of purple and orange 
 and scarlet and green, and she 
 was making it into candy-bags 
 for the tree. 
 
 In a few minutes Jules had 
 forgotten all about himself, and 
 was as busy as she, pinning the 
 little stocking-shaped patterns 
 in place, and carefully cutting out those fasci- 
 nating bags. 
 
 "You would be lots of help," said Joyce, "if 
 you could come over every day, for there's all
 
 142 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 the ornaments to unpack, and the corn to shell, 
 and pop, and string. It will take most of my 
 time to dress the dolls, and there's such a 
 short time to do everything in." 
 
 " You never saw any pop-corn, did you, 
 Jules ? " asked Cousin Kate. " When I was 
 here last time, I couldn't find it anywhere 
 in France; but the other day a friend told 
 me of a grocer in Paris, who imports it for 
 his American customers every winter. So 
 I went there. Joyce, suppose you get the 
 popper and show Jules what the corn is 
 like." 
 
 Madame was interested also, as she watched 
 the little brown kernels shaken back and forth 
 in their wire cage over the glowing coals. 
 When they began popping open, the little 
 seeds suddenly turning into big white blossoms, 
 she sent Rosalie running to bring monsieur to 
 see the novel sight. 
 
 "We can eat and work at the same time," 
 said Joyce, as she filled a dish with the corn, 
 and called Jules back to the table, where he 
 had been cutting tarletan. " There's no time to 
 lose. See what a funny grain this is ! " she 
 cried, picking up one that lay on the top of the
 
 CHRISTMAS PLANS AND AN ACCIDENT. 143 
 
 dish. "It looks like Therese, the fishwoman, 
 in her white cap." 
 
 " And here is a goat's head," said Jules, 
 picking up another grain. " And this one 
 looks like a fat pigeon." 
 
 He had forgotten his shyness entirely now, 
 and was laughing and talking as easily as Jack 
 could have done. 
 
 "Jules," said Joyce, suddenly, looking around 
 to see that the older people were too busy with 
 their own conversation to notice hers. " Jules, 
 why don't you talk to your Uncle Martin the 
 way you do to me ? He would like you lots 
 better if you would. Robard says that you get 
 pale and frightened every time he speaks to 
 you, and it provokes him for you to be so 
 timid." 
 
 Jules dropped his eyes. " I cannot help it," 
 he exclaimed. " He looks so grim and cross 
 that my voice just won't come out of my throat 
 when I open my mouth." 
 
 Joyce studied him critically, with her head 
 tipped a little to one side. "Well, I must 
 say," she exclaimed, finally, " that, for a boy 
 born in America, you have the least dare about 
 you of anybody I ever saw. Your Uncle Mar-
 
 144 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 tin isn't any grimmer or crosser than a man I 
 know at home. There's Judge Ward, so big 
 and solemn and dignified that everybody is 
 half way afraid of him. Even grown people 
 have always been particular about what they 
 said to him. 
 
 " Last summer his little nephew, Charley 
 Ward, came to visit him. Charley's just a 
 little thing, still in dresses, and he calls his 
 uncle, Bill. Think of anybody daring to call 
 Judge Ward, Bill! No matter what the judge 
 was doing, or how glum he looked, if Charley 
 took a notion, he would go up and stand in 
 front of him, and say, < Laugh, Bill, laugh ! ' If 
 the judge happened to be reading, he'd have to 
 put down his book, and no matter whether he 
 felt funny or not, or whether there was any- 
 thing to laugh at or not, he would have to 
 throw his head back and just roar. Charley 
 liked to see his fat sides shake, and his white 
 teeth shine. I've heard people say that the 
 judge likes Charley better than anybody else 
 in the world, because he's the only person who 
 acts as if he wasn't afraid of him." 
 
 Jules sat still a minute, considering, and then 
 asked, anxiously, " But what do you suppose
 
 CHRISTMAS PLANS AND AN ACCIDENT. 145 
 
 would happen if I should say ' Laugh, Martin, 
 laugh,' to my uncle ? " 
 
 Joyce shrugged her shoulders impatiently. 
 " Mercy, Jules, I did not mean that you should 
 act like a three-year-old baby. I meant that 
 you ought to talk up to your uncle some. Now 
 this is the way you are." She picked up a 
 kernel of the unpopped corn, and held it out 
 for him to see. "You shut yourself up in a 
 little hard ball like this, so that your uncle 
 can't get acquainted with you. How can he 
 know what is inside of your head if you always 
 shut up like a clam whenever he comes near 
 you ? This is the way that you ought to be." 
 She shot one of the great white grains towards 
 him with a deft flip of her thumb and finger. 
 " Be free and open with him." 
 
 Jules put the tender morsel in his mouth 
 and ate it thoughtfully. " I'll try," he prom- 
 ised, " if you really think that it would please 
 him, and I can think of anything to say. You 
 don't know how I dread going to the table 
 when everything is always so still that we can 
 hear the clock tick." 
 
 "Well, you take my advice," said Joyce. 
 "Talk about anything. Tell him about our
 
 I4O THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Thanksgiving feast and the Christmas tree, and 
 ask him if you can't come over every day to 
 help. I wouldn't let anybody think that I was 
 a coward." 
 
 Joyce's little lecture had a good effect, and 
 monsieur saw the wisdom of Madame Greville's 
 advice when Jules came to the table that night. 
 He had brought a handful of the wonderful 
 corn to show his uncle, and in the conversation 
 that it brought about he unconsciously showed 
 something else, something of his sensitive 
 inner self that aroused his uncle's interest. 
 
 Every afternoon of the week that followed 
 found Jules hurrying over to Madame Greville's 
 to help with the Christmas preparations. He 
 strung yards of corn, and measured out the 
 nuts and candy for each of the gay bags. 
 Twice he went in the carriage to Tours with 
 Cousin Kate and Joyce, to help buy presents 
 for the thirty little guests. He was jostled by 
 the holiday shoppers in crowded aisles. He 
 stood enraptured in front of wonderful show 
 windows, and he had the joy of choosing fifteen 
 things from piles of bright tin trumpets, drums, 
 jumping-jacks, and picture-books. Joyce chose 
 the presents for the girls.
 
 CHRISTMAS PLANS AND AN ACCIDENT. Itf 
 
 The tree was bought and set up in a large 
 unused room back of the library, and as soon 
 as each article was in readiness it was carried 
 in and laid on a table beside it. Jules used to 
 steal in sometimes and look at the tapers, the 
 beautiful colored glass balls, the gilt stars and 
 glittering tinsel, and wonder how the stately 
 cedar would look in all that array of loveliness. 
 Everything belonging to it seemed sacred, 
 even the unused scraps of bright tarletan and 
 the bits of broken candles. He would not let 
 Marie sweep them up to be burned, but gath- 
 ered them carefully into a box and carried 
 them home. There were several things that 
 he had rescued from her broom, one of those 
 beautiful red balls, cracked on one side it is 
 true, but gleaming like a mammoth red cherry 
 on the other. There were scraps of tinsel and 
 odds and ends of ornaments that had been 
 broken or damaged by careless handling. 
 These he hid away in a chest in his room, as 
 carefully as a miser would have hoarded a bag 
 of gold. 
 
 Clotilde Robard, the housekeeper, wondered 
 why she found his candle burned so low several 
 mornings. She would have wondered still more
 
 148 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 if she had gone into his room a while before 
 daybreak. He had awakened early, and, sitting 
 up in bed with the quilts wrapped around him, 
 spread the scraps of tarletan on his knees. 
 He was piecing together with his awkward 
 little fingers enough to make several tiny 
 bags. 
 
 Henri missed his spade one morning, and 
 hunted for it until he was out of patience. It 
 was nowhere to be seen. Half an hour later, 
 coming back to the house, he found it hanging 
 in its usual place, where he had looked for it a 
 dozen times at least. Jules had taken it down to 
 the woods to dig up a little cedar-tree, so little 
 that it was not over a foot high when it was 
 planted in a box. 
 
 Clotilde had to be taken into the secret, for 
 he could not hide it from her. " It is for my 
 Uncle Martin," he said, timidly. "Do you 
 think he will like it?" 
 
 The motherly housekeeper looked at the 
 poor little tree, decked out in its scraps of 
 cast-off finery, and felt a sob rising in her 
 throat, but she held up her hands with many 
 admiring exclamations that made Jules glow 
 with pride.
 
 SITTING UP IN BED WITH THE QUILTS WRAPPED 
 AROUND HIM,"

 
 CHRISTMAS PLANS AND AN ACCIDENT. 15! 
 
 J I have no beautiful white strings of pop- 
 corn to hang over it like wreaths of snow," he 
 said, " so I am going down the lane for some 
 mistletoe that grows in one of the highest 
 trees. The berries are like lovely white wax 
 beads." 
 
 " You are a good little lad," said the house- 
 keeper, kindly, as she gave his head an affec- 
 tionate pat. "I shall have to make something 
 to hang on that tree myself ; some gingerbread 
 figures, maybe. I used to know how to cut 
 out men and horses and pigs, nearly all 
 the animals. I must try it again some day 
 soon." 
 
 A happy smile spread all over Jules's face as 
 he thanked her. The words, "You are a good 
 little lad," sent a warm glow of pleasure through 
 him, and rang like music in his ears all the way 
 down the lane. How bright the world looked 
 this frosty December morning ! What cheeri- 
 ness there was in the ring of Henri's axe as he 
 chopped away at the stove-wood ! What friend- 
 liness in the baker's whistle, as he rattled by in 
 his big cart ! Jules found himself whistling, too, 
 for sheer gladness, and all because of no more 
 kindness than might have been thrown to a
 
 152 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 dog ; a pat on the head and the words, " You 
 are a good little lad." 
 
 Sometime after, it may have been two hours 
 or more, Madame GreVille was startled by a 
 wild, continuous ringing of the bell at her front 
 gate. Somebody was sending peal after peal 
 echoing through the garden, with quick, impa- 
 tient jerks of the bell-wire. She hurried out 
 herself to answer the summons. 
 
 Berthe had already shot back the bolt and 
 showed Clotilde leaning against the stone 
 post, holding her fat sides and completely ex- 
 hausted by her short run from the Ciseaux 
 house. 
 
 "Will madame send Gabriel for the doctor?" 
 she cried, gasping for breath at every word. 
 " The little Monsieur Jules has fallen from a 
 tree and is badly hurt. We do not know how 
 much, for he is still unconscious and his uncle 
 is away from home. Henri found him lying 
 under a tree with a big bunch of mistletoe in 
 his arms. He carried him up-stairs while I ran 
 over to ask you to send Gabriel quickly on a 
 horse for the doctor." 
 
 " Gabriel shall go immediately," said Madame
 
 CHRISTMAS PLANS AND AN ACCIDENT. 1 53 
 
 GreVille, "and I shall follow you as soon as I 
 have given the order." 
 
 Clotilde started back in as great haste as her 
 weight would allow, puffing and blowing and 
 wiping her eyes on her apron at every step. 
 Madame overtook her before she had gone 
 many rods. Always calm and self-possessed 
 in every emergency, madame took command 
 now ; sent the weeping Clotilde to look for 
 old linen, Henri to the village for Monsieur 
 Ciseaux, and then turned her attention to Jules. 
 
 "To think," said Clotilde, coming into the 
 room, "that the last thing the poor little lamb 
 did was to show me his Christmas tree that he 
 was making ready for his uncle ! " She pointed 
 to the corner where it stood, decked by awk- 
 ward boyish hands in its pitiful collection of 
 scraps. 
 
 "Poor little fellow!" said madame, with 
 tears in her own eyes. " He has done the 
 best he could. Put it in the closet, Clotilde. 
 Jules would not want it to be seen before 
 Christmas." 
 
 Madame stayed until the doctor had made 
 his visit ; then the report that she carried home 
 was that Jules had regained consciousness, and
 
 154 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 that, as far as could be discovered, his only 
 injury was a broken leg. 
 
 Joyce took refuge in the pear-tree. It was 
 not alone because Jules was hurt that she 
 wanted to cry, but because they must have 
 the Noel fete without him. She knew how 
 bitterly he would be disappointed.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A GREAT DISCOVERY. 
 
 " ONLY two more nights till Christmas eve, 
 two more nights, two more nights," sang Joyce 
 to Jules in a sort of chant. She was sitting 
 beside his bed with a box in her lap, full of 
 little dolls, which she was dressing. Every day 
 since his accident she had been allowed to make 
 him two visits, one in the morning, and one 
 in the afternoon. They helped wonderfully in 
 shortening the long, tedious days for Jules. 
 True, Madame GreVille came often with 
 broths and jellies, Cousin Kate made flying 
 visits to leave rare hothouse grapes and big 
 bunches of violets ; Clotilde hung over him 
 with motherly tenderness, and his uncle looked 
 into the room many times a day to see that he 
 wanted nothing. 
 
 Jules's famished little heart drank in all this 
 unusual kindness and attention as greedily as 
 '55
 
 156 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 the parched earth drinks in the rain. Still, he 
 would have passed many a long, restless hour, 
 had it not been for Joyce's visits. 
 
 She brought over a photograph of the house 
 at home, with the family seated in a group on 
 the front porch. Jules held it close while she 
 introduced each one of them. By the time he 
 had heard all about Holland's getting lost the 
 day the circus came to town, and Jack's taking 
 the prize in a skating contest, and Mary's set- 
 ting her apron on fire, and the baby's sweet 
 little ways when he said his prayers, or played 
 peek-a-boo, he felt very well acquainted with 
 the entire Ware family. Afterward, when 
 Joyce had gone, he felt his loneliness more 
 than ever. He lay there, trying to imagine how 
 it must feel to have a mother and sisters and 
 brothers all as fond of each other as Joyce's 
 were, and to live in the midst of such good 
 times as always went on in the little brown 
 house. 
 
 Monsieur Ciseaux, sitting by his fire with the 
 door open between the two rooms, listened to 
 Joyce's merry chatter with almost as much 
 interest as Jules. He would have been ashamed 
 to admit how eagerly he listened for her step on
 
 A GREAT DISCOVERY. 157 
 
 the stairs every day, or what longings wakened 
 in his lonely old heart, when he sat by his love- 
 less fireside after she had gone home, and there 
 was no more sound of children's voices in the 
 next room. 
 
 There had been good times in the old 
 Ciseaux house also, once, and two little 
 brothers and a sister had played in that very 
 room ; but they had grown up long ago, and 
 the ogre of selfishness and misunderstanding 
 had stolen in and killed all their happiness. 
 Ah, well, there was much that the world 
 would never know about that misunderstand- 
 ing. There was much to forgive and forget 
 on both sides. 
 
 Joyce had a different story for each visit. 
 To-day she had just finished telling Jules the 
 fairy tale of which he never tired, the tale of 
 the giant scissors. 
 
 " I never look at those scissors over the 
 gate without thinking of you," said Jules, 
 " and the night when you played that I was 
 the Prince, and you came to rescue me." 
 
 " I wish I could play scissors again, and 
 rescue somebody else that I know," answered 
 Joyce. " I'd take poor old Number Thirty-one
 
 158 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 away from the home of the Little Sisters of 
 the Poor." 
 
 "What's Number Thirty-one? " asked Jules. 
 "You never told me about that." 
 
 '* Didn't I ? " asked Joyce, in surprise. " She 
 is a lonely old woman that the sisters take 
 care of. I have talked about her so often, 
 and written home so much, that I thought I 
 had told everybody. I can hardly keep from 
 crying whenever I think of her. Marie and I 
 stop every day we go into town and take her 
 flowers. I have been there four times since 
 my first visit with madame. Sometimes she 
 tells me things that happened when she was 
 a little girl here in France, but she talks to me 
 oftenest in English about the time when she 
 lived in America. I can hardly imagine that 
 she was ever as young as I am, and that she 
 romped with her brothers as I did with Jack." 
 
 "Tell some of the things that she told 
 you," urged Jules ; so Joyce began repeating 
 all that she knew about Number Thirty-one. 
 
 It was a pathetic little tale that brought 
 tears to Jules's eyes, and a dull pain to the 
 heart of the old man who listened in the 
 next room. " I wish I were rich," exclaimed
 
 A GREAT DISCOVERY. 159 
 
 Joyce, impulsively, as she finished. " I wish I 
 had a beautiful big home, and I would adopt 
 her for my grandmother. She should have 
 a great lovely room, where the sun shines in 
 all day long, and it should be furnished in rose- 
 color like the one that she had when she was a 
 girl. I'd dress her in gray satin and soft white 
 lace. She has the prettiest silvery hair, and 
 beautiful dark eyes. She would make a lovely 
 grandmother. And I would have a maid to 
 wait on her, and there'd be mignonette always 
 growing in boxes on the window-sill. Every 
 time I came back from town, I'd bring her a 
 present just for a nice little surprise ; and I'd 
 read to her, and sing to her, and make her feel 
 that she belonged to somebody, so that she'd be 
 happy all the rest of her days. 
 
 " Yesterday while I was there she was holding 
 a little cut glass vinaigrette. It had a big D 
 engraved on the silver top. She said that it 
 was the only thing that she had left except her 
 wedding ring, and that it was to be Sister 
 Denisa's when she was gone. The D stands 
 for both their names. Hers is Desire". She 
 said the vinaigrette was too precious to part 
 With as long as she lives, because her- oldest
 
 IOO THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 brother gave it to her on her twelfth birthday, 
 when she was exactly as old as I am. Isn't 
 D6sir6 a pretty name ? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle," called Monsieur Ciseaux 
 from the next room, "mademoiselle, will you 
 come will you tell me what name was that ? 
 Desire, did you say ? " 
 
 There was something so strange in the way 
 he called that name Desire", almost like a cry, 
 that Joyce sprang up, startled, and ran into the 
 next room. She had never ventured inside 
 before. 
 
 "Tell me again what you were telling Jules," 
 said the old man. " Seventy-three years, did 
 you say ? And how long has she been back in 
 France ? " 
 
 Joyce began to answer his rapid questions, 
 but stopped with a frightened cry as her glance 
 fell on a large portrait hanging over the mantel. 
 " There she is ! " she cried, excitedly dancing 
 up and down as she pointed to the portrait. 
 ' There she is ! That's Number Thirty-one, 
 her very own self." 
 
 1 You are mistaken ! " cried the old man, 
 attempting to rise from his chair, but trembling 
 so that he could scarcely pull himself up on his
 
 "'THAT'S NUMBER THIRTY-ONE.'
 
 A GREAT DISCOVERY. 163 
 
 feet. "That is a picture of my mother, and 
 Desire is dead ; long dead." 
 
 " But it is exactly like Number Thirty-one, 
 I mean Madame Desire," persisted Joyce. 
 
 Monsieur looked at her wildly from under 
 his shaggy brows, and then, turning away, 
 began to pace up and down the room. " I had 
 a sister once," he began. " She would have 
 been seventy-three this month, and her name 
 was Desire." 
 
 Joyce stood motionless in the middle of the 
 room, wondering what was coming next. Sud- 
 denly turning with a violence that made her 
 start, he cried, " No, I never can forgive ! She 
 has been dead to me nearly a lifetime. Why 
 did you tell me this, child ? Out of my sight ! 
 What is it to me if she is homeless and alone ? 
 Go ! Go ! " 
 
 He waved his hands so wildly in motioning 
 her away, that Joyce ran out of the room and 
 banged the door behind her. 
 
 "What do you suppose is the matter with 
 him ? " asked Jules, in a frightened whisper, as 
 they listened to his heavy tread, back and forth, 
 back and forth, in the next room. 
 
 Joyce shook her head. " I don't know for
 
 1 64 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 sure," she answered, hesitatingly, " but I be- 
 lieve that he is going crazy." 
 
 Jules's eyes opened so wide that Joyce wished 
 she had not frightened him. " Oh, you know 
 that I didn't mean it," she said, reassuringly. 
 The heavy tread stopped, and the children 
 looked at each other. 
 
 " What can he be doing now ? " Jules asked, 
 anxiously. 
 
 Joyce tiptoed across the room, and peeped 
 through the keyhole. " He is sitting down 
 now, by the table, with his head on his arms. 
 He looks as if he might be crying about some- 
 thing." 
 
 " I wish he didn't feel bad," said Jules, with 
 a swift rush of pity. " He has been so good 
 to me ever since he sent Brossard away. Some- 
 times I think that he must feel as much alone 
 in the world as I do, because all his family are 
 dead, too. Before I broke my leg I was making 
 him a little Christmas tree, so that he need not 
 feel left out when we had the big one. I was 
 getting mistletoe for it when I fell. I can't 
 finish it now, but there's five pieces of candle on 
 it, and I'll get Clotilde to light them while the 
 f6te is going on, so that I'll not miss the big
 
 A GREAT DISCOVERY. 165 
 
 tree so much. Oh, nobody knows how much I 
 want to go to that fete ! Sometimes it seems 
 more than I can bear to have to stay away." 
 
 " Where is your tree ? " asked Joyce. " May 
 I see it ? " 
 
 Jules pointed to the closet. " It's in there," 
 he said, proudly. " I trimmed it with pieces 
 that Marie swept up to burn. Oh, shut the 
 door ! Quick ! " he cried, excitedly, as a step 
 was heard in the hall. " I don't want anybody 
 to see it before the time comes." 
 
 The step was Henri's. He had come to say 
 that Marie was waiting to take mademoiselle 
 home. Joyce was glad of the interruption. 
 She could not say anything in praise of the 
 poor little tree, and she knew that Jules ex- 
 pected her to. She felt relieved that Henri's 
 presence made it impossible for her to express 
 any opinion. 
 
 She bade Jules good-by gaily, but went home 
 with such a sober little face that Cousin Kate 
 began to question her about her visit. Madame, 
 sitting by the window with her embroidery- 
 frame, heard the account also. Several times 
 she looked significantly across at Cousin Kate, 
 over the child's head.
 
 1 66 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 "Joyce," said Cousin Kate, "you have had so 
 little outdoor exercise since Jules's accident that 
 it would be a good thing for you to run around 
 in the garden awhile before dark." 
 Joyce had not seen madame's 
 glances, but she felt vaguely that 
 Cousin Kate was making an ex- 
 cuse to get rid of her. She was 
 disappointed, for she thought that 
 her account of monsieur's queer 
 actions and Jules's little tree would 
 have made a greater impression 
 on her audience. She went out 
 obediently, walking up and down 
 the paths with her hands in her 
 jacket pockets, and 
 her red tam-o'shanter 
 pulled down over her 
 eyes. The big white 
 cat followed her, ran 
 on ahead, and then 
 stopped, arching its 
 
 back as if waiting for her to stroke it. Taking 
 no notice of it, Joyce turned aside to the 
 pear-tree and climbed up among the highest 
 branches,
 
 A GREAT DISCOVERY. 167 
 
 The cat rubbed against the tree, mewing and 
 purring by turns, then sprang up in the tree 
 after her. She took the warm, furry creature 
 in her arms and began talking to it. 
 
 "Oh, Solomon," she said, "what do you 
 suppose is the matter over there? My poor 
 old lady must be monsieur's sister, or she 
 couldn't have looked exactly like that picture, 
 and he would not have acted so queerly. What 
 do you suppose it is that he can never forgive ? 
 Why did he call me in there and then drive me 
 out in such a crazy way, and tramp around the 
 room, and put his head down on his arms as if 
 he were crying ? " 
 
 Solomon purred louder and closed his eyes. 
 
 " Oh, you dear, comfortable old thing," 
 exclaimed Joyce, giving the cat a shake. 
 "Wake up and take some interest in what I 
 am saying. I wish you were as smart as Puss 
 in Boots ; then maybe you could find out what 
 is the matter. How I wish fairy tales could be 
 true ! I'd say < Giant scissors, right the wrong 
 and open the gate that's been shut so long.' 
 There ! Did you hear that, Solomon Gre"ville ? 
 i said a rhyme right off without waiting to 
 make it up. Then the scissors would leap
 
 1 68 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 down and cut the misunderstanding or trouble 
 or whatever it is, and the gate would fly open, 
 and there the brother and sister would meet 
 each other. All the unhappy years would be 
 forgotten, and they'd take each other by the 
 hand, just as they did when they were little 
 children, Martin and D6sire, and go into the 
 old home together, on Christmas Day, in 
 the morning." 
 
 Joyce was half singing her words now, as 
 she rocked the cat back and forth in her arms. 
 " And then the scissors would bring Jules a 
 magnificent big tree, and he'd never be afraid 
 of his uncle any more. Oh, they'd all have 
 such a happy time on Christmas Day, in the 
 morning ! " 
 
 Joyce had fully expected to be homesick 
 all during the holidays ; but now she was so 
 absorbed in other people's troubles, and her 
 day-dreams to make everybody happy, that 
 she forgot all about herself. She fairly bub- 
 bled over with the peace and good-will of the 
 approaching Christmas-tide, and rocked the cat 
 back and forth in the pear-tree to the tune of a 
 happy old-time carol. 
 
 A star or two twinkled out through the
 
 A GREAT DISCOVERY. 169 
 
 gloaming, and, looking up beyond them through 
 the infinite stretches of space, Joyce thought 
 of a verse that she and Jack had once learned 
 together, one rainy Sunday at her Grandmother 
 Ware's, sitting on a little stool at the old lady's 
 feet: 
 
 " Behold thou hast made the heaven and the 
 earth by thy great power and outstretched 
 arm, and there is notJdng too hard for thee" 
 Her heart gave a bound at the thought. Why 
 should she be sitting there longing for fairy 
 tales to be true, when the great Hand that had 
 set the stars to swinging could bring anything 
 to pass ; could even open that long-closed gate 
 and bring the brother and sister together again, 
 and send happiness to little Jules ? 
 
 Joyce lifted her eyes again and looked up, 
 out past the stars. " Oh, if you please, God," 
 she whispered, "for the little Christ-child's 
 sake." 
 
 When Joyce went back to the house, Cousin 
 Kate sat in the drawing-room alone. Madame 
 had gone over to see Jules, and did not return 
 until long after dark. Berthe had been in 
 three times to ask monsieur if dinner should 
 be served, before they heard her ring at the
 
 I/O THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 gate. When she finally came, there was such 
 an air of mystery about her that Joyce was 
 puzzled. All that next morning, too, the day 
 before Christmas, it seemed to Joyce as if 
 something unusual were afloat. Everybody in 
 the house was acting strangely. 
 
 Madame and Cousin Kate did not come 
 home to lunch. She had been told that she 
 must not go to see Jules until afternoon, and 
 the doors of the room where the Christmas 
 tree was kept had all been carefully locked. 
 She thought that the morning never would 
 pass. It was nearly three o'clock when she 
 started over to see Jules. To her great sur- 
 prise, as she ran lightly up the stairs to his 
 room, she saw her Cousin Kate hurrying across 
 the upper hall, with a pile of rose-colored silk 
 curtains in her arms. 
 
 Jules tried to raise himself up in bed as 
 Joyce entered, forgetting all about his broken 
 leg in his eagerness to tell the news. "Oh, 
 what do you. think!" he cried. "They said 
 that I might be the one to tell you. She is 
 Uncle Martin's sister, the old woman you told 
 about yesterday, and he is going to bring her 
 home to-morrow."
 
 A GREAT DISCOVERY. I /I 
 
 Joyce sank into a chair with a little gasp at 
 the suddenness of his news. She had not ex- 
 pected this beautiful ending of her day-dreams 
 to be brought about so soon, although she had 
 hoped that it would be sometime. 
 
 " How did it all happen ? " she cried, with a 
 beaming face. "Tell me about it ! Quick ! " 
 
 " Yesterday afternoon madame came over 
 soon after you left. She gave me my wine 
 jelly, and then went into Uncle Martin's room, 
 and talked and talked for the longest time. 
 After she had gone he did not eat any dinner, 
 and I think that he must have sat up all night, 
 for I heard him walking around every time that 
 I waked up. Very early this morning, madame 
 came back again, and M. Greville was with her. 
 They drove with Uncle Martin to the Little 
 Sisters of the Poor. I don't know what hap- 
 pened out there, only that Aunt Desire is to 
 be brought home to-morrow. 
 
 " Your Cousin Kate was with them when 
 they came back, and they had brought all sorts 
 of things with them from Tours. She is in 
 there now, making Aunt D6sir6's room look 
 like it did when she was a girl." 
 
 " Oh, isn't it lovely ! " exclaimed Joyce. " It
 
 1/2 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 is better than all the fairy tales that I have ever 
 read or heard, almost too good to be true ! " 
 Just then Cousin Kate called her, and she ran 
 across the hall. Standing in the doorway, she 
 looked all around the freshly furnished room, 
 that glowed with the same soft, warm pink 
 that colors the heart of a shell. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " cried Joyce, glancing from 
 the rose on the dressing-table to the soft cur- 
 tains of the windows, which all opened towards 
 the morning sun. " What a change it will be 
 from that big bare dormitory with its rows of 
 narrow little cots." She tiptoed around the 
 room, admiring everything, and smiling over 
 the happiness in store for poor old Number 
 Thirty-one, when she should find herself in 
 the midst of such loveliness. 
 
 Joyce's cup of pleasure was so full, that it 
 brimmed over when they turned to leave the 
 room. Cousin Kate slipped an arm around 
 her, and kissed her softly on the forehead. 
 
 " You dear little fairy tale lover," she said. 
 " Do you know that it is because of you that 
 this desert has blossomed ? If you had never 
 made all those visits to the Little Sisters of the 
 Poor, and had never won old Madame D6sir6's
 
 A GREAT DISCOVERY. 1/3 
 
 love and confidence by your sympathy, if you 
 had never told Jules the story of the giant 
 scissors, and wished so loud that you could fly 
 to her rescue, old monsieur would never have 
 known that his sister is living. Even then, I 
 doubt if he would have taken this step, and 
 brought her back home to live, if your stories 
 of your mother and the children had not 
 brought his own childhood back to him. He 
 said that he used to sit there hour after hour, 
 and hear you talk of your life at home, until 
 some of its warmth and love crept into his own 
 frozen old heart, and thawed out its selfishness 
 and pride." 
 
 Joyce lifted her radiant face, and looked to- 
 wards the half opened window, as she caught 
 the sound of chimes. Across the Loire came 
 the deep-toned voice of a cathedral bell, ringing 
 for vespers. 
 
 " Listen ! " she cried. " Peace on earth, 
 good- will oh, Cousin Kate ! It really does 
 seem to say it ! My Christmas has begun the 
 day before."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 LONG before the Christmas dawn was bright 
 enough to bring the blue parrots into plain 
 view on the walls of Joyce's room, she had 
 climbed out of bed to look for her "messages 
 from Noel." The night before, following the 
 old French custom, she had set her little 
 slippers just outside the threshold. Now, can- 
 dle in hand, she softly slipped to the door and 
 peeped out into the hall. Her first eager glance 
 showed that they were full. 
 
 Climbing back into her warm bed, she put 
 the candle on the table beside it, and. began 
 emptying the slippers. They were filled with 
 bonbons and all sorts of little trifles, such as 
 she and Jules had admired in the gay shop 
 windows. On the top of one madame had laid 
 a slender silver pencil, and monsieur a pretty 
 purse. In the other was a pair of little wooden 
 shoes, fashioned like the ones that Jules had
 
 CHRISTMAS. 175 
 
 worn when she first knew him. They were 
 only half as long as her thumb, and wrapped in 
 a paper on which was written that Jules him- 
 self had whittled them out for her, with Henri's 
 help and instructions. 
 
 " What little darlings ! " exclaimed Joyce. 
 " I hope he will think as much of the scrap- 
 book that I made for him as I do of these. I 
 know that he will be pleased with the big micro- 
 scope that Cousin Kate bought for him." 
 
 She spread all the things out on the table, 
 and gave the slippers a final shake. A red 
 morocco case, no larger than half a dollar, fell 
 out of the toe of one of them. Inside the case 
 was a tiny buttonhole watch, with its wee 
 hands pointing to six o'clock. It was the 
 smallest watch that Joyce had ever seen, 
 Cousin Kate's gift. Joyce could hardly keep 
 back a little squeal of delight. She wanted to 
 wake up everybody on the place and show it. 
 Then she wished that she could be back in the 
 brown house, showing it to her mother and the 
 children. For a moment, as she thought of 
 them, sharing the pleasure of their Christmas 
 stockings without her, a great wave of home- 
 sickness swept over her, and she lay back on
 
 I/O THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 the pillow with that miserable, far-away feeling 
 that, of all things, makes one most desolate. 
 
 Then she heard the rapid "tick, tick, tick, 
 tick," of the little watch, and was comforted. 
 She had not realized before that time could go 
 so fast. Now thirty seconds were gone ; then 
 sixty. At this rate it could not be such a very 
 long time before they would be packing their 
 trunks to start home ; so Joyce concluded not 
 to make herself unhappy by longing for the 
 family, but to get as much pleasure as possible 
 out of this strange Christmas abroad. 
 
 That little watch seemed to make the morn- 
 ing fly. She looked at it at least twenty times 
 an hour. She had shown it to every one in 
 the house, and was wishing that she could take 
 it over to Jules for him to see, when Monsieur 
 Ciseaux's carriage stopped at the gate. He 
 was on his way to the Little Sisters of the 
 Poor, and had come to ask Joyce to drive with 
 him to bring his sister home. 
 
 He handed her into the carriage as if she 
 had been a duchess, and then seemed to forget 
 that she was beside him ; for nothing was said 
 all the way. As the horses spun along the 
 road in the keen morning air, the old man was
 
 CHRISTMAS. I// 
 
 busy with his memories, his head dropped for- 
 ward on his breast. The child watched him, 
 entering into this little drama as sympatheti- 
 cally as if she herself were the forlorn old 
 woman, and this silent, white-haired man at 
 her side were Jack. 
 
 Sister Denisa came running out to meet 
 them, her face shining and her eyes glisten- 
 ing with tears. " It is for joy that I weep," 
 she exclaimed, " that poor madame should have 
 come to her own again. See the change that 
 has already been made in her by the blessed 
 news." 
 
 Joyce looked down the corridor as monsieur 
 hurried forward to meet the old lady coming 
 towards them, and to offer his arm. Hope had 
 straightened the bowed figure; joy had put 
 lustre into her dark eyes and strength into her 
 weak frame. She walked with such proud 
 stateliness that the other inmates of the home 
 looked up at her in surprise as she passed. 
 She was no more like the tearful, broken- 
 spirited woman who had lived among them so 
 long, than her threadbare dress was like the 
 elegant mantle which monsieur had brought to 
 fold around her.
 
 1/8 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Joyce had brought a handful of roses to 
 Sister Denisa, who caught them up with a cry 
 of pleasure, and held them against her face as 
 if they carried with them some sweetness of 
 another world. 
 
 Madame came up then, and, taking the nun in 
 her arms, tried to thank her for all that she had 
 done, but could find no words for a gratitude so 
 deep, and turned away, sobbing. 
 
 They said good-by to Sister Denisa, brave 
 Little Sister of the Poor, whose only joy was 
 the pleasure of unselfish service ; who had no 
 time to even stand at the gate and be a glad 
 witness of other people's Christmas happiness, 
 but must hurry back to her morning task of 
 dealing out coffee and clean handkerchiefs to 
 two hundred old paupers. No, there were only 
 a hundred and ninety-nine now. Down the 
 streets, across the Loire, into the old village 
 and out again, along the wide Paris road, one 
 of them was going home. 
 
 The carriage turned and went for a little 
 space between brown fields and closely clipped 
 hedgerows, and then madame saw the windows 
 of her old home flashing back the morning 
 sunlight over the high stone wall. Again the
 
 CHRISTMAS. I ?9 
 
 Carriage turned, into the lane this time, and 
 now the sunlight was caught up by the scissors 
 over the gate, and thrown dazzlingly down into 
 their faces. 
 
 Monsieur smiled as he looked at Joyce, a 
 tender, gentle smile that one would have sup- 
 posed never could have been seen on those 
 harsh lips. She was almost standing up in 
 the carriage, in her excitement. 
 
 " Oh, it has come true ! " she cried, clasping 
 her hands together. " The gates are really 
 opening at last ! " 
 
 Yes, the Ogre, whatever may have been its 
 name, no longer lived. Its spell was broken, 
 for now the giant scissors no longer barred 
 the way. Slowly the great gate swung open, 
 and the carriage passed through. Joyce sprang 
 out and ran on ahead to open the door. Hand 
 in hand, just as when they were little children, 
 Martin and Desire", this white-haired brother 
 and sister went back to the old home together ; 
 and it was Christmas Day, in the morning. 
 
 At five o'clock that evening the sound of 
 Gabriel's accordeon went echoing up and 
 down the garden, and thirty little children
 
 ISO THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 were marching to its music along the paths, 
 between the rows of blooming laurel. Joyce 
 understood, now, why the room where the 
 Christmas tree stood had been kept so care- 
 fully locked. For two days that room had 
 been empty and the tree had been standing 
 in Monsieur Ciseaux's parlor. Cousin Kate 
 and madame and Berthe and Marie and 
 Gabriel had ail been over there, busily at 
 work, and neither she nor Jules had suspected 
 what was going on down-stairs. 
 
 Now she marched with the others, out of 
 the garden and across the road, keeping time 
 to the music of the wheezy old accordeon that 
 Gabriel played so proudly. Surely every soul, 
 in all that long procession filing through the 
 gate of the giant scissors, belonged to the
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 181 
 
 kingdom of loving hearts and gentle hands ; 
 for they were all children who passed through, 
 or else mothers who carried in their arms the 
 little ones who, but for these faithful arms, 
 must have missed this Ncel fete. 
 
 Jules had been carried down-stairs and laid 
 on a couch in the corner of the room where he 
 could see the tree to its best advantage. Beside 
 him sat his great-aunt, Desire", dressed in a 
 satin gown of silvery gray that had been her 
 mother's, and looking as if she had just stepped 
 out from the frame of the portrait up-stairs. 
 She held Jules's hand in hers, as if with it she 
 grasped the other Jules, the little brother of 
 the olden days for whom this child had been 
 named. And she told him stories of his grand- 
 father and his father. Then Jules found that
 
 182 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 this Aunt Desire" had known his mother; had 
 once sat on the vine-covered porch while he 
 ran after fireflies on the lawn in his little white 
 dress ; had heard the song the voice still sang 
 to him in his dreams : 
 
 " Till the stars and the angels come to keep 
 Their watch where my baby lies fast asleep." 
 
 When she told him this, with her hand 
 stroking his and folding it tight with many 
 tender little claspings, he felt that he had 
 found a part of his old home, too, as well as 
 Aunt Desire. 
 
 One by one the tapers began to glow on the 
 great tree, and when it was all ablaze the doors 
 were opened for the children to flock in. They 
 stood about the room, bewildered at first, for 
 not one of them had ever seen such a sight 
 before; a tree that glittered and sparkled and 
 shone, that bore stars and rainbows and snow 
 wreaths and gay toys. At first they only drew 
 deep, wondering breaths, and looked at each 
 other with shining eyes. It was all so beau- 
 tiful and so strange. 
 
 Joyce flew here and there, helping to dis- 
 tribute the gifts, feeling her heart grow warmer
 
 CHRISTMAS. 183 
 
 and warmer as she watched the happy children. 
 "My little daughter never had anything like 
 that in all her life," said one grateful mother 
 as Joyce laid a doll in the child's outstretched 
 arms. " She'll never forget this to her dying day, 
 nor will any of us, dear mademoiselle ! We knew 
 not what it was to have so beautiful a Noel ! " 
 
 When the last toy had been stripped from 
 the branches, it was Cousin Kate's turn to be 
 surprised. At a signal from madame, the chil- 
 dren began circling around the tree, singing a 
 song that the sisters at the village school had 
 taught them for the occasion. It was a happy 
 little song about the green pine-tree, king of all 
 trees and monarch of the woods, because of 
 the crown he yearly wears at Noel. At the 
 close every child came up to madame and 
 Cousin Kate and Joyce, to say "Thank you, 
 madame," and " Good night," in the politest 
 way possible. 
 
 Gabriel's accordeon led them out again, and 
 the music, growing fainter and fainter, died 
 away in the distance ; but in every heart that 
 heard it had been born a memory whose music 
 could never be lost, the memory of one happy 
 Christmas.
 
 1 84 THE GATE OF THE GIANT SCISSORS. 
 
 Joyce drew a long breath when it was 
 all over, and, with her arm around Madame 
 D6sir6's shoulder, smiled down at Jules. 
 
 " How beautifully it has all ended ! " she 
 exclaimed. "I am sorry that we have come 
 to the place to say and they all lived happily 
 ever after,' for that means that it is time to 
 shut the book." 
 
 "Dear heart," murmured Madame Desire", 
 drawing the child closer to her, "it means 
 that a far sweeter story is just beginning, 
 and it is you who have opened the book 
 for me." 
 
 Joyce flushed with pleasure, saying, " I 
 thought this Christmas would be so lonely ; 
 but it has been the happiest of my life." 
 
 " And mine, too," said Monsieur Ciseaux 
 from the other side of Jules's couch. He 
 took the little fellow's hand in his. "They 
 told me about the tree that you prepared for 
 me. I have been up to look at it, and now I 
 have come to thank you." To the surprise of 
 every one in the room, monsieur bent over and 
 kissed the flushed little face on the pillow. 
 Jules reached up, and, putting his arms around 
 his uncle's neck, laid his cheek a moment
 
 CHRISTMAS. 1 87 
 
 against the face of his stern old kinsman. 
 Not a word was said, but in that silent 
 caress every barrier of coldness and reserve 
 was forever broken down between them. So 
 the little Prince came into his kingdom, the 
 kingdom of love and real home happiness. 
 
 It is summer now, and far away in the little 
 brown house across the seas Joyce thinks of 
 her happy winter in France and the friends 
 that she found through the gate of the giant 
 scissors. And still those scissors hang over 
 the gate, and may be seen to this day, by any 
 one who takes the trouble to v^alk up the hill 
 from the little village that lies just across the 
 river Loire, from the old town of Tours. 
 
 THE END.
 
 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF 
 KENTUCKY
 
 TO 
 
 MARGARET AND ALBION, 
 
 MARY, HELEN, LURA AND ROSE, 
 
 WILLIAM AND GEORGE
 
 CHAPTER PA OK 
 
 I. Two TRAMPS AND A BEAR , . .n 
 
 II. GINGER AND THE BOYS 31 
 
 III. THE VALENTINE PARTY ... 51 
 
 IV. A FIRE AND A PLAN 76 
 V. JONESY'S BENEFIT . , . .98 
 
 VI. THE LITTLE COLONEL'S Two RESCUES 124 
 
 VII. A GAME OF INDIAN , - . .143 
 
 VIII. "FAIRCHANCE" . . . 169
 
 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF 
 KENTUCKY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TWO TRAMPS AND A BEAR. 
 
 IT was the coldest Saint Valentine's eve that 
 Kentucky had known in twenty years. In 
 Lloydsborough Valley a thin sprinkling of snow 
 whitened the meadows, enough to show the 
 footprints of every hungry rabbit that loped 
 across them ; but there were not many such 
 tracks. It was so cold that the rabbits, for 
 all their thick fur, were glad to run home and 
 hide. Nobody cared to be out long in such 
 weather, and except now and then, when an 
 ice-cutter's wagon creaked up from some pond
 
 12 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 to the frozen pike, the wintry stillness was 
 unbroken. 
 
 On the north side of the little country depot 
 a long row of icicles hung from the eaves. 
 Even the wind seemed to catch its breath 
 there, and hurry on with a shiver that reached 
 to the telegraph wires overhead. It shivered 
 down the long stovepipe, too, inside the wait- 
 ing-room. The stove had been kept red-hot 
 all that dull gray afternoon, but the window- 
 panes were still white with heavy frost- 
 work. 
 
 Half an hour before the five o'clock train was 
 due from the city, two boys came running up 
 the railroad track with their skates in their 
 hands. They were handsome, sturdy little fel- 
 lows, so well buttoned up in their leather 
 leggins and warm reefer overcoats that they 
 scarcely felt the cold. Their cheeks were red 
 as winter apples, from skating against the wind, 
 and they were almost breathless after their long 
 run up-hill to the depot. Racing across the 
 platform, they bumped against the door at the 
 same instant, burst it noisily open, and slammed 
 it behind them with a bang that shook the 
 entire building.
 
 TWO TRAMPS AND A BEAR. 1^ 
 
 "What kind of a cyclone has struck us 
 now ? " growled the ticket agent, who was in 
 the next room. Then he frowned, as the first 
 noise was followed by the rasping sound of a 
 bench being dragged out of a corner, to a place 
 nearer the stove. It scraped the bare floor every 
 inch of the way, with a jarring motion that made 
 the windows rattle. 
 
 Stretching himself half-way out of his chair, 
 the ticket agent pushed up the wooden slide 
 of the little window far enough for him to peep 
 into the waiting-room. Then he hastily shoved 
 it down again. 
 
 " It's the two little chaps who came out from 
 the city last week," he said to the station- 
 master. " The Maclntyre boys. You'd think 
 they own the earth from the way they dash in 
 and take possession of things." 
 
 The station-master liked boys. He stroked 
 his gray beard and chuckled. " Well, Meyers," 
 he said, slowly, "when you come to think of 
 it, their family always has owned a pretty fair 
 slice of the earth and its good things, and those 
 same little lads have travelled nearly all over it, 
 although the oldest can't be more than ten. It 
 would be a wonder if they didn't have that
 
 14 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 lordly way of making themselves at home 
 wherever they go." 
 
 " Will they be out here all winter ? " asked 
 Meyers, who was a newcomer in Lloydsborough. 
 
 " Yes, their father and mother have gone to 
 Florida, and left them here with their grand- 
 mother Maclntyre." 
 
 " I imagine the old lady has her hands full," 
 said Meyers, as a sound of scuffling in the next 
 room reached him. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know about that, now," said the 
 station-master. " They're noisy children, to be 
 sure, and just boiling over with mischief, but if 
 you can find any better-mannered little gentle- 
 men anywhere in the State when there's ladies 
 around, I'd like you to trot 'em out. They came 
 down to the train with their aunt this morning, 
 Miss Allison Maclntyre, and their politeness to 
 her was something pretty to see, I can tell you, 
 sir." 
 
 There was a moment's pause, in which the 
 boys could be heard laughing in the next 
 room. 
 
 " No," said the station-master again, " I'm 
 thinking it's not the boys who will be keeping 
 Mrs. Maclntyre's hands full this winter, so
 
 TWO TRAMPS AND A BEAR. 15 
 
 much as that little granddaughter of hers that 
 came here last fall, little Virginia Dudley. You 
 can guess what's she like from her nickname. 
 They call her Ginger. She had always lived at 
 some army post out West, until her father, Cap- 
 tain Dudley, was ordered to Cuba. He was 
 wounded down there, and has never been en- 
 tirely well since. When he found they were 
 going to keep him there all winter, he sent for 
 his wife last September, and there was nothing 
 to do with Virginia but to bring her back to 
 Kentucky to her grandmother." 
 
 " Oh, she's the little girl who went in on the 
 train this morning with Miss Allison," said the 
 ticket agent. " I suppose the boys have come 
 down to meet them. They'll have a long time 
 to wait." 
 
 While this conversation was going on behind 
 the ticket window, the two boys stretched them- 
 selves out on a long bench beside the stove. 
 The warm room made them feel drowsy after 
 their violent out-door exercise. Keith, the 
 younger one, yawned several times, and finally 
 lay down on the bench with his cap for a pillow. 
 He was eight years old, but curled up in that 
 fashion, with his long eyelashes resting on his
 
 1 6 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 red cheeks, and one plump little hand tucked 
 under his chin, he looked much younger. 
 
 "Wake me up, Malcolm, when it's time foi 
 Aunt Allison's train," he said to his brother. 
 "Ginger would never stop teasing me if she 
 should find me asleep." 
 
 Malcolm unbuttoned his reefer, and, after 
 much tugging, pulled out a handsome little gold 
 watch. " Oh, there's a long time to wait ! " he 
 exclaimed. "We need not have left the pond 
 so early, for the train will not be here for 
 twenty-five minutes. I believe I'll curl up 
 here myself, till then. I hope they won't 
 forget the valentines we sent for." 
 
 The room was very still for a few minutes. 
 There was no sound at all except the crackling of 
 the fire and the shivering of the wind in the 
 long stovepipe. Then some one turned the 
 door-knob so cautiously and slowly that it 
 unlatched without a sound. 
 
 It was the cold air rushing into the room as 
 the door was pushed ajar that aroused the boys. 
 After one surprised glance they sat up, for the 
 man, who was slipping into the room as stealthily 
 as a burglar, was the worst-looking tramp they 
 had ever seen. There was a long, ugly red scar
 
 TWO TRAMPS AND A BEAR. 
 
 across his face, running from his cheek to the 
 middle of his forehead, and partly closing one 
 eye. Perhaps 
 it was the scar 
 that gave him 
 such a queer, 
 evil sort of an 
 expression ; 
 even without 
 it he would 
 have been a 
 repulsive sight. 
 His clothes 
 were dirty and 
 ragged, and his 
 breath had 
 frozen in ici- 
 cles on his 
 stubby red 
 beard. 
 
 Behind him 
 came a boy no 
 larger than Keith, but with a hard, shrewd look 
 in his hungry little face that made one feel he 
 had lived a long time and learned more than 
 was good for him to know. It was plain to
 
 1 8 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 be seen that he was nearly starved, and suf- 
 fering from the intense cold. His bare toes 
 peeped through their ragged shoes, and he 
 had no coat. A thin cotton shirt and a piece 
 of an old gray horse-blanket was all that pro- 
 tected his shoulders from the icy wind of that 
 February afternoon. He, too, crept in noise- 
 lessly, as if expecting to be ordered out at the 
 first sound, and then turned to coax in some 
 animal that was tied to one end of the rope 
 which he held. 
 
 Malcolm and Keith looked on with interest, 
 and sprang up excitedly as the animal finally 
 shuffled in far enough for the boy to close the 
 door behind it. It was a great, shaggy bear, 
 taller than the man when it sat up on its 
 haunches beside him. 
 
 The tramp looked uneasily around the room 
 for an instant, but seeing no one save the two 
 children, ventured nearer the stove. The boy 
 followed him, and the bear shuffled along behind 
 them both, limping painfully. Not a word was 
 said for a moment. The boys were casting 
 curious glances at the three tramps who had 
 come in as noiselessly as if they had snowed 
 down, and the man was watching the boys
 
 TWO TRAMPS AND A BEAR. ig 
 
 with shrewd eyes. He did not seem to be look- 
 ing at them, but at the end of his survey he 
 could have described them accurately. He had 
 noticed every detail of their clothing, from their 
 expensive leather leggins to their fur-lined 
 gloves. He glanced at Malcolm's watch-chain 
 and the fine skates which Keith swung back 
 and forth by a strap, and made up his mind, 
 correctly, too, that the pockets of these boys 
 rarely lacked the jingle of money which they 
 could spend as they pleased. 
 
 When he turned away to hold his hands out 
 toward the stove, he rubbed them together 
 with satisfaction, for he had discovered more 
 than that. He knew from their faces that 
 they were trusting little souls, who would 
 believe any story he might tell them, if he 
 appealed to their sympathies in the right 
 way. He was considering how to begin, when 
 Malcolm broke the silence. 
 
 " Is that a trained bear ? " 
 
 The man nodded. 
 
 " What can it do ? " was the next question. 
 
 " Oh, lots of things," answered the man, in a 
 low, whining voice. " Drill like a soldier, and 
 dance, and ride a stick." He kept his shifty
 
 20 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 eyes turning constantly toward the door, as if 
 afraid some one might overhear him. 
 
 " I'd put him through his paces for you young 
 gen'lemen," he said, " but he got his foot hurt 
 for one thing, and another is, if we went to 
 showing off, we might be ordered to move on. 
 This is the first time we've smelled a fire in 
 twenty-four hours, and we ain't in no hurry to 
 leave it, I can tell you." 
 
 "Will he bite?" asked Keith, going up to 
 the huge bear, which had stretched itself out 
 comfortably on the floor. 
 
 " Not generally. He's a good-tempered brute, 
 most times like a lamb. But he ain't had noth- 
 ing to eat all day, so it wouldn't be surprising 
 if he was a bit snappish." 
 
 "Nothing to eat!" echoed Keith. "You 
 poor old thing ! " Going a step closer, he put 
 out his hand and stroked the bear, as if it had 
 been a great dog. 
 
 "Oh, Malcolm, just feel how sot> his fur is, 
 like mamma's beaver jacket. And he has the 
 kindest old face. Poor old fellow, is you 
 hungry? Never mind, Keith'll get you some 
 thing to eat pretty soon." 
 
 Putting his short, plump arms around the
 
 TWO TRAMPS AND A BEAR. 21 
 
 animal's neck, he hugged it lovingly up to him. 
 A cunning gleam came into the man's eyes. 
 He saw that he had gained the younger boy's 
 sympathy, and he wanted Malcolm's also. 
 
 " Is your home near here, my little gen'le- 
 man ? " he asked, in a friendly tone. 
 
 "No, we live in the city," answered Mal- 
 colm, " but my grandmother's place, where we 
 are staying, is not far from here." He was 
 stroking the bear with one hand as he spoke, 
 and hunting in his pocket with the other, hop- 
 ing to find some stray peanuts to give it. 
 
 "Then maybe you know of some place where 
 we could stay to-night. Even a shed to crawl 
 into would keep us from freezing. It's an 
 awful cold night not to have a roof over your 
 head, or a crust to gnaw on, or a spark of fire 
 to keep life in your body." 
 
 " Maybe they'd let you stay in the waiting- 
 room," suggested Malcolm. " It is always good 
 and warm in here. I'll ask the station-master. 
 He's a friend of mine." 
 
 " Oh, no ! No, don't ! " exclaimed the tramp, 
 hastily, pulling his old hat farther over his fore- 
 head, as if to hide the scar, and looking uneasily 
 around. " I wouldn't have you do that for any-
 
 22 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 thing. I've had dealings with such folks before, 
 and I know how they'd treat me. I thought 
 maybe there was a barn or a hay-shed or some- 
 thing on your grandmother's place, where we 
 could lay up for repairs a couple of days. The 
 beast needs a rest. Its foot's sore ; and Jonesy 
 there is pretty near to lung fever, judging from 
 the way he coughs." He nodded toward the 
 boy, who had placed his chair as close to 
 the stove as possible. The child's face was 
 drawn into a pucker by the tingling pains in 
 his half-frozen feet, and his efforts to keep 
 from coughing. 
 
 Malcolm looked at him steadily. He had 
 read about boys who were homeless and hungry 
 and cold, but he had never really understood 
 how much it meant to be all that. This was 
 the first time in his ten short years that he had 
 ever come close to real poverty. He had seen 
 the swarms of beggars that infest such cities as 
 Naples and Rome, and had tossed them coppers 
 because that seemed a part of the programme 
 in travelling. He had not really felt sorry for 
 them, for they did not seem to mind it. They 
 sat on the steps in the warm Italian sunshine, 
 and waited for tourists to throw them money,
 
 TWO TRAMPS AND A BEAR. 23 
 
 as comfortably as toads sit blinking at flies. 
 But this was different. A wave of pity swept 
 through Malcolm's generous little heart as he 
 looked at Jonesy, and the man watching him 
 shrewdly saw it. 
 
 "Of course," he whined, "a little gen'leman 
 like you don't know what it is to go from town 
 to town and have every door shut in your face. 
 You don't think that this is a hard-hearted, 
 stingy old world, because it has given you the 
 cream of everything. But if you'd never had 
 anything all your life but other people's scraps 
 and leavings, and you hadn't any home or 
 friends or money, and was sick besides, you'd 
 think things wasn't very evenly divided. Wouldn't 
 you now ? You'd think it wasn't right that 
 some should have all that heart can wish, 
 and others not enough to keep soul and body 
 together. If you'd a-happened to be Jonesy, 
 and Jonesy had a-happened to 'a' been you, I 
 reckon you'd feel it was pretty tough to see 
 such a big difference between you. It doesn't 
 seem fair now, does it ? " 
 
 " No," admitted Malcolm, faintly. He had 
 taken a dislike to the man. He could not have 
 told why, but his child instinct armed him with
 
 24 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 a sudden distrust. Still, he felt the force of 
 the whining appeal, and the burden of an obliga- 
 tion to help them seemed laid upon his shoulders. 
 
 " Grandmother is afraid for anybody to sleep 
 in the barn, on account of fire," he said, after 
 a moment's thought, " and I'm sure she wouldn't 
 let you come into the house without you'd had 
 a bath and some clean clothes. Grandmother is 
 dreadfully particular," he added, hastily, not 
 wanting to be impolite even to a tramp. " Seems 
 to me Keith and I have to spend half our time 
 washing our hands and putting on clean collars." 
 
 "Oh, I know a place," cried Keith. "There's 
 that empty cabin down by the spring-house. 
 Nobody has lived in it since the new servants' 
 cottage was built. There isn't any furniture in 
 it, but there's a fireplace in one room, and it 
 would be warmer than the barn." 
 
 "That's just the trick!" exclaimed Malcolm. 
 "We can carry a pile of hay over from the 
 barn for you to sleep on. Aunt Allison will be 
 out on this next train and I'll ask her. I am 
 sure she will let you, because last night, when it 
 was so cold, she said she felt sorry for any- 
 thing that had to be out in it, even the poor old 
 cedar-trees, with the sleet on their branches.
 
 TWO TRAMPS AND A BEAR. 2$ 
 
 She said that it was King Lear's own weather, 
 and she could understand how Cordelia felt when 
 she said, ' Mine enemy's dog, though he had bit 
 me, should have stood that night against my 
 fire!' It is just like auntie to feel that way 
 about it, only she's so good to everybody she 
 couldn't have any enemies." 
 
 Something like a smile moved the tramp's 
 stubby beard. "So she's that kind, is she? 
 Well, if she could have a soft spot for a dog 
 that had bit her, and an enemy's dog at that, it 
 stands to reason that she wouldn't object to 
 some harmless travellers a-sleeping in an empty 
 cabin a couple of nights. S'pose'n you show 
 us the place, sonny, and we'll be moving on." 
 
 " Oh, it wouldn't be right not to ask her 
 first," exclaimed Malcolm. " She'll be here in 
 such a little while." 
 
 The man looked uneasy. Presently he walked 
 over to the window and scraped a peep-hole 
 on the frosted pane with his dirty thumb- 
 nail. " Sun's down," he said. " I'd like to get 
 that bear's foot fixed comfortable before it 
 grows any darker. I'd like to mighty well. 
 It'll take some time to heat water to dress it. 
 Is that cabin far from here ? "
 
 26 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " Not if we go in at the back of the place," 
 said Malcolm. " It's just across the meadow, 
 and over a little hill. If we went around by 
 the big front gate it would be a good deal 
 longer." 
 
 The man shifted uneasily from one foot 
 to another, and complained of being hungry. 
 He was growing desperate. For more reasons 
 than one he did not want to be at the station 
 when the train came in. That long red scar 
 across his face had been described a number of 
 times in the newspapers, and he did not care 
 to be recognised just then. 
 
 The boys could not have told how it came 
 about, but in a few minutes they were leading 
 the way toward the cabin. The man had per- 
 suaded them that it was not at all necessary to 
 wait for their Aunt Allison's permission, and 
 that it was needless to trouble their grand- 
 mother. Why should the ladies be bothered 
 about a matter that the boys were old enough 
 to decide ? So well had he argued, and so tact- 
 fully had he flattered them, that when they took 
 their way across the field, it was with the feel- 
 ing that they were doing their highest duty 
 in getting these homeless wayfarers to the
 
 
 Xl 
 
 <1pr 
 *$/*
 
 fWO TRAMPS AND A BEAR. 20 
 
 cabin as quickly as possible, on their own 
 responsibility. 
 
 " We can get back in time to meet the train, if 
 we hurry," said Malcolm, looking at his watch 
 again. " There's still fifteen minutes." 
 
 No one saw the little procession file out of 
 the waiting-room and across the snowy field, for 
 it was growing dark, and the lamps were 
 lighted and the curtains drawn in the few 
 houses they passed. Malcolm went first, 
 proudly leading the friendly old bear. Jonesy 
 came next beside Keith, and the man shuffled 
 along in the rear, looking around with sus- 
 picious glances whenever a twig snapped, or 
 a distant dog barked. 
 
 As the wind struck against Jonesy's body, he 
 drew the bit of blanket more closely around 
 him, and coughed hoarsely. His teeth were 
 chattering and his lips blue. " You look 
 nearly frozen," said Keith, who, well-clad and 
 well-fed, scarcely felt the cold. " Here ! put 
 this on, or you'll be sick." Unbuttoning his 
 thick little reefer, he pulled it off and tied 
 its sleeves around Jonesy's neck. 
 
 A strange look passed over the face of the 
 man behind them. " Blessed if the little kid
 
 30 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 didn't take it off his own back," he muttered. 
 " If any man had ever done that for me just 
 once well, maybe, I wouldn't ha' been what 
 I am now ! " 
 
 For a moment, as they reached the top of 
 the hill, bear, boys, and man were outlined 
 blackly against the sky like strange silhouettes. 
 Then they passed over and disappeared in the 
 thick clump of pine-trees, which hid the little 
 cabin from the eyes of the surrounding world.
 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 
 
 IN less time than one would think possible, 
 a big fire was roaring in the cabin fireplace, 
 water was steaming in the rusty kettle on the 
 crane, and a pile of hay and old carpet lay in 
 one corner, ready to be made into a bed. Keith 
 had made several trips to the kitchen, and came 
 back each time with his hands full. 
 
 Old Daphne, the cook, never could find it in 
 her heart to refuse " Marse Sydney's " boys 
 anything. They were too much like what their 
 father had been at their age to resist their 
 playful coaxing. She had nursed him when he 
 was a baby, and had been his loyal champion 
 all through his boyhood. Now her black face 
 wrinkled into smiles whenever she heard his 
 name spoken. In her eyes, nobody was quite 
 so near perfection as he, except, perhaps, the 
 fair woman whom he had married. 
 3 1
 
 32 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " Kain't nobody in ten States hole a can'le to 
 my Marse Sidney an' his Miss Elise," old 
 Daphne used to say, proudly. " They sut'n'ly 
 is the handsomest couple evah jined togethah, 
 an' the free-handedest. In all they travels 
 by sea or by land they nevah fo'gits ole 
 Daphne. I've got things from every country 
 undah the shinin' sun what they done brung 
 me." 
 
 Now, all the services she had once been 
 proud to render them were willingly given to 
 their little sons. When Keith came in with 
 a pitiful tale of a tramp who was starving at 
 their very gates, she gave him even more than 
 he asked for, and almost more than he could 
 carry. 
 
 The bear and its masters were so hungry, 
 and their two little hosts so interested in v;atch- 
 ing them eat, that they forgot all about going 
 back to meet the train. They did not even 
 hear it whistle when it came puffing into the 
 Valley. 
 
 As Miss Allison stepped from the car to the 
 station platform, she looked around in vain for 
 the boys who had promised to meet her. Her 
 arms were so full of bundles, as suburban pas-
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 33 
 
 sengers' usually are, that she could not hold up 
 her long broadcloth skirt, or even turn her 
 handsome fur collar higher over her ears. With 
 a shade of annoyance on her pretty face, she 
 swept across the platform and into the waiting- 
 room, out of the cold. 
 
 Behind her came a little girl about ten years 
 old, as unlike her as possible, although it was 
 Virginia Dudley's ambition to be exactly like her 
 Aunt Allison. She wanted to be tall, and slen- 
 der, and grown up ; Miss Allison was that, and 
 yet she had kept all her lively girlish ways, and 
 a love of fun that made her charming to 
 everybody, young and old. Virginia longed 
 for wavy brown hair and white hands, and 
 especially for a graceful, easy manner. Her 
 hair was short and black, and her complexion 
 like a gypsy's. She had hard, brown little 
 fists, sharp gray eyes that seemed to see 
 everything at once, and a tongue that was 
 always getting her into trouble. As for 
 the ease of manner, that might come in time, 
 but her stately old grandmother often sighed in 
 secret over Virginia's awkwardness. 
 
 She stumbled now as she followed the young 
 lady into the waiting-room. Her big, plume-
 
 34 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 covered hat tipped over one ear, but she, too, 
 had so many bundles, that she could not spare a 
 hand to straighten 
 it. 
 
 " Well, Virginia, 
 what do you sup- 
 pose has become 
 of the boys ? " 
 asked her aunt. 
 "They promised 
 to meet us and 
 carry our pack- 
 ages." 
 
 " I heard them 
 in here about half 
 an hour ago, Miss 
 Allison," said the 
 station-master, who 
 had come in with a 
 lantern. " I s'pose 
 they got tired of 
 waiting. Better 
 leave your things 
 here, hadn't you ? 
 I'll watch them. 
 It is mighty slippery walking this evening."
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 35 
 
 " Oh, thank you, Mr. Mason," she answered, 
 beginning to pile boxes and packages upon a 
 bench. I'll send Pete down for them immedi- 
 ately. Now, Virgin:'^, turn up your coat collar 
 and hold your muff over your nose, or Jack 
 Frost will make an icicle out of you before 
 you are half-way home. 
 
 They had been in the house some time 
 before the boys remembered their promise to 
 meet them at the station. When they saw 
 how late it was, they started home on the run. 
 
 " I am fairly aching to tell Ginger about that 
 bear," panted Keith, as they reached the side 
 door. " I am so sorry that we promised the man 
 not to say anything about them being on the 
 place, before he sees us again to-morrow. I 
 wonder why he asked us that." 
 
 " I don't know," answered Malcolm. "He 
 seemed to have some very good reason, and he 
 talked about it so that it didn't seem right not 
 to promise a little thing like that." 
 
 " I wish we hadn't, though," said Keith, 
 again. 
 
 " But it's done now," persisted Malcolm. 
 " We're bound not to tell, and you can't get 
 out of it, for he made us give him our word ' on
 
 36 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 the honour of a gentleman ; ' and that settles it, 
 you know." 
 
 They were two very dirty boys who clattered 
 up the back stairs, and raced to their room to 
 dress for dinner. Their clothes were covered 
 with hayseed and straw, and their hands and 
 faces were black with soot from the old cabin 
 chimney. They had both helped to build the fire. 
 
 The lamps had just been lighted in the upper 
 hall, and Virginia came running out from her 
 room when she heard the boys' voices. 
 
 "Why didn't you meet us at the train ? " she 
 began, but stopped as she saw their dirty faces. 
 "Where on earth have you chimney-sweeps 
 been ? " she cried. 
 
 " Oh, about and about," answered Malcolm, 
 teasingly. " Don't you wish you knew ? " 
 
 Virginia shrugged her shoulders, as if she 
 had not the slightest interest in the matter, 
 and held out two packages. 
 
 " Here are the valentines you sent for. You 
 just ought to see the pile that Aunt Allison 
 bought. We've the best secret about to-mor- 
 row that ever was." 
 
 "So have we," began Keith, but Malcolm 
 clapped a sooty hand over his mouth and pulled
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 37 
 
 him toward the door of their room. ' Come 
 on," he said. " We've barely time to dress for 
 dinner. Don't you ki.jw enough to keep still, 
 you little magpie ? " he exclaimed, as the door 
 banged behind them. " The only way to keep 
 a secret is not to act like you have one ! " 
 
 Virginia walked slowly back to her room and 
 paused in the doorway, wondering what she 
 could do to amuse herself until dinner-time. 
 It was a queer room for a girl, decorated 
 with flags and Indian trophies and every- 
 thing that could remind her of the military life 
 she loved, at the far-away army post. There 
 were photographs framed in brass buttons on 
 her dressing-table, and pictures of uniformed 
 officers all over the walls. A canteen and an 
 army cap with a bullet -hole through the crown, 
 hung over her desk, and a battered bugle, that 
 had sounded many a triumphant charge, swung 
 from the corner of her mirror. 
 
 Each souvenir had a history, and had been 
 given her at parting by some special friend. 
 Every one at the fort had made a pet of Cap- 
 tain Dudley's daughter, the harum-scarum 
 little Ginger, who would rather dash across 
 the prairies on her pony, like a wild Comanche
 
 38 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 Indian, than play with the finest doll ever 
 imported from Paris. 
 
 There was a suit in her wardrobe, short skirt, 
 jacket, leggins, and moccasins, all made and 
 beaded by the squaws. It was the gift of the 
 colonel's wife. Mrs. Dudley had hesitated 
 some time before putting it in one of the 
 trunks that was to go back to Kentucky. 
 
 " You look so much like an Indian now," she 
 said to Virginia. " Your face is so sunburned 
 that I am afraid your grandmother will be scan- 
 dalised. I don't know what she would say if 
 she knew that I ever allowed you to run so 
 wild. If I had known that you were going 
 back to civilisation I certainly should not have 
 kept your hair cut short, and you should have 
 worn sunbonnets all summer." 
 
 To Mrs. Dudley's great surprise, her little 
 daughter threw herself into her arms, sobbing, 
 ' " Oh, mamma ! I don't want to go back to 
 Kentucky ! Take me to 'Cuba with you ! Please 
 do, or else let me stay here at the post. Every- 
 body will take care of me here! I'll just die if 
 you leave me in Kentucky ! " 
 
 "Why, darling," she said, soothingly, as she 
 wiped her tears away and rocked her back and
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 39 
 
 forth in her arms, " I thought you have always 
 wanted to see mamma's old home, and the 
 places you have heard so much about. There 
 are all the old toys in the nursery that we had 
 when we were children, and the grape-vine swing 
 in the orchard, and the mill-stream where we 
 fished, and the beech-woods where we had such 
 delightful picnics. I thought it would be so 
 nice for you to do all the same things that 
 made me so happy when I was a child, and 
 go to school in the same old Girls' College 
 and know all the dear old neighbours that I 
 knew. Wouldn't my little girl like that ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, some, I s'pose," sobbed Virginia, 
 "but I didn't know I'd have to be so so 
 everlastingly civilised ! " she wailed. " I don't 
 want to always have to dress just so, and have to 
 walk in a path and be called Virginia all the time. 
 That sounds so stiff and proper. I'd rather 
 stay where people don't mind if I am sun- 
 burned and tanned, and won't be scandalised 
 at everything I do. It's so much nicer to be 
 just plain Ginger ! " 
 
 It had been five months, now, since Virginia 
 left Fort Dennis. At first she had locked her^ 
 self in her room nearly every day, and, with her
 
 40 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 face buried in her Indian suit, cried to go back. 
 She missed the gay military life of the army 
 post, as a sailor would miss the sea, or an 
 Alpine shepherd the free air of his snow-capped 
 mountain heights. 
 
 It was not that she did not enjoy being at 
 her grandmother's. She liked the great gray 
 house whose square comer tower and over- 
 hanging vines made it look like an old castle. 
 She liked the comfort and elegance of the big, 
 stately rooms, and she had her grandmother's 
 own pride in the old family portraits and the 
 beautiful carved furniture. The negro ser- 
 vants seemed so queer and funny to her that 
 she found them a great source of amusement, 
 and her Aunt Allison planned so many pleasant 
 occupations outside of school-hours that she 
 scarcely had time to get lonesome. But she 
 had a shut-in feeling, like a wild bird in a cage, 
 and sometimes the longing for liberty which 
 her mother had allowed her made her fret 
 against the thousand little proprieties she had to 
 observe. Sometimes when she went tipping 
 over the polished floors of the long drawing 
 room, and caught sight of herself in one of the 
 big mirrors, she felt that she was not herself at
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 4! 
 
 all, but somebody in a story. The Virginia in 
 the looking-glass seemed so very, very civilised. 
 More than once, after one of these meetings with 
 herself in the mirror, she dashed up-stairs, locked 
 her door, and dressed herself in her Indian suit. 
 Then in her noiseless moccasins she danced 
 the wildest of war-dances, whispering shrilly 
 between her teeth, " Now I'm Ginger ! Now 
 I'm Ginger ! And I wont be dressed up, and I 
 wont learn my lessons, and I wont be a little 
 lady, and I'll run away and go back to Fort 
 Dennis the very first chance I get ! " 
 
 Usually she was ashamed of these outbursts 
 afterwards, for it always happened that after 
 each one she found her Aunt Allison had 
 planned something especially pleasant for her 
 entertainment. Miss Allison felt sorry for the 
 lonely child, who had never been separated 
 from her father and mother before, so she 
 devoted her time to her as much as possible, 
 telling her stories and entering into her plays 
 and pleasures as if they had both been the same 
 age. 
 
 Since the boys had come, Virginia had not 
 had a single homesick moment. While she 
 was at school in the primary department of
 
 42 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 the Girls' College, Malcolm and Keith were 
 reciting their lessons to the old minister who 
 lived across the road from Mrs. Maclntyre's. 
 They were all free about the same hour, and 
 even on the coldest days played out-of-doors 
 from lunch-time until dark. 
 
 To-night Virginia had so many experiences 
 to tell them of her day in town that the boys 
 seemed unusually long in dressing. She was 
 so impatient for them to hear her news that 
 she could not settle down to anything, but 
 walked restlessly around the room, wishing they 
 would hurry. 
 
 " Oh, I haven't sorted my valentines ! " she 
 exclaimed, presently, picking up a fancy box 
 which she had tossed on the bed when she first 
 came in. " I'll take them down to the library." 
 
 There was no one in the room when she 
 peeped in. It looked so bright and cosy with 
 the great wood fire blazing on the hearth and 
 the rose-coloured light falling from its softly 
 shaded lamps, that she forgot the coldness of 
 the night outside. Sitting down on a pile of 
 cushions at one end of the hearth-rug, she 
 began sorting her purchases, trying to decide 
 to whom each one should be sent.
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 
 
 43 
 
 " The prettiest valentine of all must go to 
 poor papa," she said to herself, " 'cause he's 
 been so sick away down there in Cuba ; and 
 this one that's got the little girl on it in a 
 
 blue dress shall be for my dear, sweet mamma, 
 'cause it will make her think of me." 
 
 For a moment, a mist seemed to blur the 
 gay blue dress of the little valentine girl as 
 Virginia looked at her, thinking of her far-away 
 mother. She drew her hand hastily across her 
 eyes and went on :
 
 44 TW LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 "This one is for Sergeant Jackson out at 
 Fort Dennis, and the biggest one, with the 
 doves, for Colonel Philips and his wife. Dear 
 me ! I wish I could send one to every officer 
 and soldier out there. They were all so good 
 to me ! " 
 
 The pile of lace-paper cupids and hearts and 
 arrows and roses slipped from her lap, down to 
 the rug, as she clasped her hands around her 
 knees and looked into the fire. She wished 
 that she could be back again at the fort, long 
 enough to live one of those beautiful old days 
 from reveille to taps. How she loved the bugle- 
 calls and the wild thrill the band gave her, when 
 it struck up a burst of martial music, and the 
 troops went dashing by ! How she missed the 
 drills and the dress parades ; her rides across 
 the open prairie on her pony, beside her father ; 
 how she missed the games she used to play 
 with the other children at the fort on the long 
 summer evenings ! 
 
 Something more than a mist was gathering in 
 her eyes now. Two big tears were almost ready 
 to fall when the door opened and Mrs. Maclntyre 
 came in. In Virginia's eyes she was the most 
 beautiful grandmother any one ever had. She
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 45 
 
 was not so tall as her daughter Allison, and in 
 that respect fell short of the little girl's ideal, 
 but her hair, white as snow, curled around her 
 face in the same soft, pretty fashion, and by 
 every refined feature she showed her kinship 
 to the aristocratic old faces which looked down 
 from the family portraits in the hall. 
 
 " I couldn't be as stately and dignified as she 
 is if I practised a thousand years," thought Vir- 
 ginia, scrambling up from the pile of cushions 
 to roll a chair nearer the fire. As she did so, 
 her heel caught in the rug, and she fell back in 
 an awkward little heap. 
 
 "The more haste, the less grace, my dear," 
 said her grandmother, kindly, thanking her for 
 the proffered chair. Virginia blushed, wonder- 
 ing why she always appeared so awkward in her 
 grandmother's presence. She envied the boys 
 because they never seemed embarrassed or ill 
 at ease before her. 
 
 While she was picking up her valentines the 
 boys came in. If two of the cavalier ancestors 
 had stepped down from their portrait frames 
 just then, they could not have come into the 
 room in a more charming manner than Malcolm 
 and Keith. Their faces were shining, their
 
 46 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 linen spotless, and they came up to kiss their 
 grandmother's cheek with an old-time courtli- 
 ness that delighted her. 
 
 " I am sure that there are no more perfect 
 gentlemen in all Kentucky than my two little 
 lads," she said, fondly, with an approving pat 
 of Keith's hand as she held him a moment. 
 
 Virginia, who had seen them half an hour 
 before, tousled and dirty, and had been arrayed 
 against them in more than one hot quarrel 
 where they had been anything but chivalrous, 
 let slip a faintly whistled "cuckoo!" 
 
 The boys darted a quick glance in her direc- 
 tion, but she was bending over the valentines 
 with a very serious face, which never changed 
 its expression till her Aunt Allison came in 
 and the boys began their apologies for not 
 meeting her at the train. Their only excuse 
 was that they had forgotten all about it. 
 
 Virginia spelled on her fingers : " I dare you 
 to tell what made your faces so black ! " Keith's 
 only answer was to thrust his tongue out at her 
 behind his grandmother's back. Then he ran 
 to hold the door open for the ladies to pass 
 out to dinner, with all the grace of a young 
 Chesterfield.
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 4/ 
 
 When dinner was over and they were back 
 in the library, Miss Allison opened a box of 
 tiny heart-shaped envelopes, and began ad- 
 dressing them. As she took up her pen she 
 said, merrily : " Now you may tell our secret, 
 Virginia." 
 
 " I was going to make you guess for about 
 an hour," said Virginia, " but it is so nice I 
 can't wait that long to tell you. We are going 
 to have a valentine party to-morrow night. 
 Aunt Allison planned it all a week ago, and 
 bought the things for it while we were in town 
 to-day. Everything on the table is to be cut 
 in heart shape, the bread and butter and 
 sandwiches and cheese ; and the ice-cream will 
 be moulded in hearts, and the two big frosted 
 cakes are hearts, one pink and one white, with 
 candy arrows sticking in them. Then there 
 will be peppermint candy hearts with mottoes 
 printed on them, and lace-paper napkins with 
 verses on them, so that the table itself will look 
 like a lovely big valentine. The games are 
 lovely, too. One is parlour archery, with a red 
 heart in the middle of the target, and two 
 prizes, one for the boys and one for the 
 girls."
 
 48 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 "Who are invited?" asked Malcolm, as 
 Virginia stopped for breath. 
 
 "Oh, the Carrington boys, and the Edmunds, 
 and Sally Fairfax, and Julia Ferris, I can't 
 remember them all. There will be twenty-four, 
 counting us. There is the list on the table." 
 
 Keith reached for it, and began slowly spell- 
 ing out the names. " Who is this ? " he asked, 
 reading the name that headed the list. " ' The 
 Little Colonel ! ' I never heard of him." 
 
 " Oh, he's a girl ! " laughed Virginia. " Little 
 Lloyd Sherman, don't you know ? She lives 
 up at 'The Locusts,' that lovely place with the 
 long avenue of trees leading up to the house. 
 You've surely seen her with her grandfather, 
 old Colonel Lloyd, riding by on the horse that 
 he calls Maggie Boy." 
 
 " Has he only one arm ? " asked Malcolm. 
 
 " Yes, the other was shot off in the war years 
 ago. Well, when Lloyd was younger, she had 
 a temper so much like his, and wore such a dear 
 little Napoleon hat, that everybody took to 
 calling her the Little Colonel." 
 
 " How old is she now ? " asked Malcolm. 
 
 "About Keith's age, isn't she, Aunt Allison ? " 
 askifd Virginia.
 
 GINGER AND THE BOYS. 49 
 
 "Yes," was the answer. "She is nearly 
 eight, I believe. She has outgrown most of 
 her naughtiness now." 
 
 " I love to hear her talk," said Virginia. " She 
 leaves out all of her r's in such a soft, sweet 
 way." 
 
 "All Southerners do that," said Malcolm, 
 pompously, "and I think it sounds lots better 
 than the way Yankees talk." 
 
 "You boys don't talk like the Little Colonel," 
 retorted Virginia, who had often been teased by 
 them for not being a Southerner. " You're all 
 mixed up every which way. Some things you 
 say like darkeys, and some things like English 
 people, and it doesn't sound a bit like the Little 
 Colonel." 
 
 " Oh, well, that's because we've travelled 
 abroad so much, don't you know," drawled 
 Malcolm, " and we've been in so many different 
 countries, and had an English tutor, and all that 
 sort of a thing. We couldn't help picking up 
 a bit of an accent, don't you know." His supe- 
 rior tone made Virginia long to slap him. 
 
 "Yes, I know, Mr. Brag," she said, in such 
 a low voice that her grandmother could not 
 hear. "I know perfectly well. If I didn't it
 
 5O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 wouldn't be because you haven't told me every 
 chance you got. Who did you say is your 
 tailor in London, and how many times was it 
 the Queen invited you out to Windsor ? I think 
 it's a ninety-nine dollar cravat you always buy, 
 isn't it ? And you wouldn't be so common 
 as to wear a pair of gloves that hadn't been 
 made to order specially for you. Yes, I've 
 heard all about it ! " 
 
 Miss Allison heard, but said nothing. She 
 knew the boys were a little inclined to boast, 
 and she thought Virginia's sharp tongue might 
 have a good effect. But the retort had grown 
 somewhat sharper than was pleasant, and, fear- 
 ing a quarrel might follow if she did not inter- 
 rupt the whispers beside her, she said : 
 
 " Boys, did you ever hear about the time that 
 the Little Colonel threw mud on her grand- 
 father's coat ? There's no end to her pranks. 
 Get grandmother to tell you." 
 
 " Oh, yes, please, grandmother, "begged Keith, 
 with an arm around her neck. "Tell about 
 Fritz and the parrot, too," said Virginia. " Here, 
 Malcolm, there's room on this side for you." 
 
 Aunt Allison smiled. The storm had blown 
 over, and they were all friends again.
 
 DAPHNE, WHAT'S DEM CHILLUN ALLUZ RACIN' DOWN 
 TO DE SPRING-HOUSE FO* ? ' "
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE VALENTINE PARTY. 
 
 " Now we can tell Ginger about the bear," 
 was Keith's first remark, when he awoke early 
 next morning. 
 
 " But not until after we have seen the man 
 again," answered Malcolm. " You know we 
 promised him that." 
 
 "Then let's go down before breakfast," 
 exclaimed Keith, springing out of bed and 
 beginning to dress himself. A little while 
 later, the old coloured coachman saw them 
 run past the window, where he was warming 
 himself by the kitchen stove. 
 
 "Daphne," he called out to the cook, who 
 was beating biscuit in the adjoining pantry, 
 " Daphne, what's dem chillun alluz racin' down 
 to de spring-house fo' in de snow ? Peah's lak 
 dee has a heap o' business down yandah." 
 
 Daphne, who had just been coaxed into filling: 
 53
 
 54 Two LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 a basket with a generous supply of cold victuals, 
 pretended not to hear until he repeated his 
 question. Then she stopped pounding long 
 enough to say, sharply, " Whuff o' you alluz 
 'spicion dem boys so evahlastin'ly, Unc' Henry ? 
 Lak enough dee's settin' a rabbit trap. Boys 
 has done such things befo'. You's done it 
 yo'se'f, hasn't you?" 
 
 Daphne had seen them setting rabbit traps 
 there, but she knew well enough that was not 
 what they had gone for now, and that the food 
 they carried was not for the game of Robinson 
 Crusoe, which they had played in the deserted 
 cabin the summer before. Still, she did not care 
 to take Unc' Henry into her confidence. 
 
 The food, the warmth, and the night's rest 
 had so restored the bear that it was able to 
 go through all its performances for the boys' 
 entertainment, although it limped badly. 
 
 "Isn't he a dandy?" cried Keith; "I wish 
 we had one. It's nicer than any pets we ever 
 had, except the ponies. Something always 
 happened to the dogs, and the monkey was 
 such a nuisance, and the white rabbits were 
 stolen, and the guinea pigs died." 
 
 " Haven't we had a lot of things, when you
 
 THE VALENTINE PARTY. 55 
 
 come to think of it?" exclaimed Malcolm. 
 " Squirrels, and white mice, and the coon that 
 Uncle Harry brought us, and the parrot from 
 Mexico." 
 
 "Yes, and the gold-fish, and the little baby 
 alligator that froze to death in its tank," added 
 Keith. " But a bear like this would be nicer 
 than any of them. As soon as papa comes 
 home I am going to ask him to buy us one." 
 
 "Jonesy's nearly done for," said the tramp, 
 pointing to the boy who lay curled up in the 
 hay, coughing at nearly every breath. "We 
 ought to stay here another day, if you young 
 gen'lemen don't object." 
 
 "Oh, goody!" cried Keith. "Then we can 
 bring Ginger down to see the bear perform." 
 
 " Yes," answered the man, " we'll give a 
 free show to all your friends, if you will only 
 kindly wait till to-morrow. Give us one more 
 day to rest up and get in a little better trim. 
 The poor beast's foot is still too lame for him 
 to do his best, and you're too kind-hearted, I 
 am sure, to want anything to suffer in order 
 to give you pleasure." 
 
 " Of course," answered both the boys, agree- 
 ing so quickly to all the man's smooth speeches
 
 5 6 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 that, before they left the cabin, they had re- 
 newed their promise to keep silent one more 
 day. The man was a shrewd one, and knew 
 well how to make these unsuspecting little 
 souls serve his purpose, like puppets tied to a 
 string. 
 
 Miss Allison was so busy with preparations 
 for the party that she had no time all that day 
 to notice what the boys were doing. When 
 they came back from reciting their lessons to 
 the minister, she sent them on several errands, 
 but the rest of the time they divided between 
 the cabin and the post-office. 
 
 Every mail brought a few valentines to each 
 of them, but it was not until the five o'clock 
 train came that they found the long-looked-for 
 letters from their father and mother. 
 
 "I knew they'd each send us a valentine," 
 cried Keith, tearing both of his open. " I'll 
 bet that papa's is a comic one. Yes, here it 
 is. Papa is such a tease. Isn't it a stunner ? 
 a base-ball player. And, whoopee ! Here's a 
 dollar bill in each of 'em." 
 
 " So there is in mine," said Malcolm. 
 " Mamma says we are to buy anything we 
 want, and call it a valentine. They couldn't
 
 THE VALENTINE PARTY. 57 
 
 find anything down on the coast that they 
 thought we would like." 
 
 " I don't know what to get with mine," said 
 Keith, folding his two bills together. " Seems 
 to me I have everything I want except a cam- 
 era, and I couldn't buy the kind I want for two 
 dollars." 
 
 They were half-way home when a happy 
 thought came to Malcolm. " Keith," he cried, 
 excitedly, " if you would put your money with 
 mine, that would make four dollars, and maybe 
 it would be enough to buy that bear ! " 
 
 " Let's do it ! " exclaimed Keith, turning a 
 handspring in the snow to show his delight. 
 " Come on, we'll ask the man now." 
 
 But the man shook his head, when they 
 dashed into the cabin and told their errand. 
 " No, sonny, that ain't a tenth of what it's 
 worth to me," he said. " I've raised that bear 
 from the time it was a teeny cub. I've taught 
 it, and fed it, and looked to it for company 
 when I hadn't nobody in the world to care for 
 me. Couldn't sell that bear for no such sum 
 as that. Couldn't you raise any more money 
 than that ? " 
 
 It was Malcolm's turn to shake his head.
 
 $8 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 He turned away, too disappointed to trust 
 himself to answer any other way. The tears 
 sprang to Keith's eyes. He had set his heart 
 on having that bear. 
 
 " Never mind, brother," said Malcolm, mov- 
 ing toward the door. "Papa will get us one 
 when he comes home and finds how much we 
 want one." 
 
 " Oh, don't be in such a hurry, young gen'le- 
 men," whined the man, when he saw that they 
 were really going. " I didn't say that I wouldn't 
 sell it to you for that much. You've been so 
 kind to me that I ought to be willing to make 
 any sacrifice for you. I happen to need four 
 dollars very particular just now, and I've a 
 mind to sell him to you on your own terms." 
 He paused a moment, looking thoughtfully at 
 a crack in the floor, as he stood by the fire with 
 his hands in his pockets. "Yes," he said, at 
 last, "you can have him for four dollars, if 
 you'll keep mum about us being here for one 
 more day. You can leave the bear here till we 
 
 go-" 
 
 " No ! No ! " cried Keith, throwing his arms 
 around the animal's neck. " He is ours now, 
 and we must take him with us. We can hide
 
 THE VALENTINE PARTY. 59 
 
 him away in the barn. It is so dark out-doors 
 now that nobody will see us. It wouldn't seem 
 like he is really ours if we couldn't take him 
 with us." 
 
 After some grumbling the man consented, 
 and pocketed the four dollars, first asking very 
 particularly the exact spot in the barn where 
 they expected to hide their huge pet. 
 
 Unc' Henry, coming up from the carriage- 
 house through the twilight, thought he saw 
 some one stealing along by the clump of cedars 
 by the spring-house. " Who's prowlin' roun' 
 dis yere premises ? " he called. There was no 
 answer, and, after peering intently through the 
 dusk for a moment, the old darkey concluded 
 that he must have been mistaken, and passed 
 on. As soon as he was gone, the boys came 
 out from behind the cedars, and crept up the 
 snowy hillside. They were leading the bear 
 between them. 
 
 " We'll put him away back in the hay-mow 
 where he'll be warm and comfortable to-night," 
 whispered Malcolm. " Then in the morning 
 we can tell everybody." 
 
 While they were busily scooping out a big 
 hollow in the hay, they were startled by a
 
 6O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 rustling behind them. They looked into each 
 other's frightened faces, and then glanced 
 around the dark barn in alarm. An old cap 
 pushed up through the hay. Then a weak little 
 cough betrayed Jonesy. He had followed them, 
 
 " Sh ! " he said, in a warning whisper. " I'm 
 afraid the boss will find out that I'm here. He 
 started to the store for some tobacco as soon as 
 you left. He's been wild fer some, but didn't 
 have no money. Dorit you leave that bear 
 out here to-night, if you ever expect to see it 
 again ! That wasn't true what he told you. 
 He never saw the bear till two months ago, 
 and he sold it to you cheap because he's a-goin' 
 to steal it back again to-night, and make off up 
 the road with it. He went off a-grinnin' over 
 the slick way he'd fooled you, and I jes' had to 
 come and tell, 'cause you've been so good 
 to me. I'll never forget the little kid's givin' 
 me the coat off his own back, if I live to be a 
 hundred. Now don't blab on me, or the boss 
 would nearly kill me." 
 
 "Is that man your father?" began Keith, 
 but Jonesy, alarmed by some sudden noise, 
 sprang to the door, and disappeared in the 
 twilight.
 
 VALENTINE PARTY. 6 1 
 
 The boys looked at each other a moment, 
 with surprise and indignation in their faces. 
 There was a hurried consultation in the hay- 
 mow. A few moments later the boys were 
 smuggling their new pet into the house, and up 
 the back stairs. They scarcely dared breathe 
 until it was safe in their own room. 
 
 All the time that they were dressing for the 
 party, they were trying to decide where to put 
 it for the night, so that neither the tramp nor 
 the family could discover it. What Jonesy had 
 told them about the man's dishonest intention 
 did not relieve them from their promise. They 
 were amazed that any one could be so mean, 
 and longed to tell their Aunt Allison all about 
 it ; still, one of the conditions on which they 
 had bought the bear was that they were to 
 "keep mum," and they stuck strictly to that 
 promise. 
 
 By the time they were dressed, they had 
 decided to put it in the blue room, a guest- 
 chamber in the north wing, seldom used in 
 winter, because it was so hard to heat. " No- 
 body will ever think of coming in here," said 
 Malcolm, "and it will be plenty warm for a 
 bear if we turn on the furnace a little." As he
 
 62 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCK.V. 
 
 spoke, he was tying the bear's rope around a 
 leg of the big, high-posted bed. 
 
 " Won't Ginger be surprised ? " answered 
 
 Keith. " We'll tell her that we have a valen- 
 tine six feet long, and keep her guessing." 
 
 There was no time for teasing, however, as 
 the first guest arrived while they were still 
 in the blue room. 
 
 " I hate to go off and leave him in the dark,"
 
 THE VALENTINE PARTY. 63 
 
 said Keith, with a final loving pat. " I guess 
 he'll not mind, though. Maybe he'll think he 
 is in the woods if I put this good-smelling pine 
 pillow on the rug beside him." 
 
 " Oh, boys," called Virginia from the hall 
 down-stairs. " See what an enormous valentine 
 pie Aunt Allison has made ! " 
 
 Looking over the banisters, the boys saw 
 that a table had been drawn into the middle of 
 the wide reception-hall, and on it sat the largest 
 pie that they had ever seen. It was in a bright 
 new tin pan, and its daintily browned crust 
 would have made them hungry even if their 
 appetites had not been sharpened by the cold 
 and exercise of the afternoon. 
 
 " What a queer place to serve pie," said Mal- 
 colm, in a disapproving undertone to his brother. 
 " Why don't they have it in the dining-room ? 
 It looks mighty good, but somehow it doesn't 
 seem proper to have it stuck out here in the 
 hall. Mamma would never do such a thing." 
 
 " Aw, it's made of paper ! She fooled us, 
 sure, Malcolm," called back Keith, who had 
 run on ahead to look. " It is only painted to 
 look like a pie. But isn't it a splendid imita- 
 tion ? "
 
 64 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 Virginia, pleased to have caught them so 
 cleverly, showed them the ends of twenty-four 
 pieces of narrow ribbon, peeping from under 
 the delicately brown top crust. "The white 
 ones are for the girls, and the red ones for the 
 boys," she explained. " There is a valentine 
 on the end of each one, and those on the red 
 ribbons match the ones on the white. We'll 
 all pull at once, and the ones who have valen- 
 tines alike will go out to dinner together." 
 
 The guests came promptly. They had been 
 invited for half-past six, and dinner was to be 
 served soon after that time. The last to arrive 
 was the Little Colonel. She came in charge of 
 an old coloured woman, Mom Beck, who had 
 been her mother's nurse as well as her own. 
 The child was so hidden in her wraps when 
 Mom Beck led her up-stairs, that no one could 
 tell how she looked. The boys had been curi- 
 ous to see her, ever since they had heard so 
 many tales of her mischievous pranks. A few 
 minutes later, when she appeared in the par- 
 lours, there was a buzz of admiration. Maybe 
 it was not so much for the soft light hair, the 
 star-like beauty of her big dark eyes, or the 
 delicate colour in her cheeks that made them as
 
 THE VALENTINE PARTY. 65 
 
 pink as a wild rose, as it was for the valentine 
 costume she wore. It was of dainty white 
 tulle, sprinkled with hundreds of tiny red vel- 
 vet hearts, and there was a coronet of glittering 
 rhinestones on her long fair hair. 
 
 " The Queen of Hearts," announced Aunt 
 Allison, leading her forward. " You know * she 
 made some tarts, upon a summer day,' and 
 now she shall open the valentine pie and see 
 if it is as good as her Majesty's." 
 
 The big music-box in the hall began playing 
 one of its liveliest waltzes, the children gath- 
 ered around the great pie, and twenty-four little 
 hands reached out to grasp the floating ends of 
 ribbon. 
 
 "Pull!" cried the little Queen of Hearts. 
 The paper crust flew off, and twenty-four yards 
 of ribbon, each with a valentine attached, flut- 
 tered brightly through the air for an instant. 
 
 " Now match your verses," cried her Majesty 
 again, opening her own to read what was in it. 
 There was much laughing and peeping over 
 shoulders, and tangling of white and scarlet 
 ribbons, while the gay music-box played on. 
 
 In the midst of it Virginia beckoned to the 
 Little Colonel. " Come up-stairs with me for a
 
 66 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 minute, Lloyd," she whispered, "and help me 
 look for something. Aunt Allison has for- 
 gotten where she put the box of arrows that 
 we are to use in the archery contest after 
 dinner. There is the prettiest prize for the 
 one who hits the red heart in the centre of 
 the target." 
 
 " Oh, do you suppose you can hit it ? " 
 asked Lloyd, as she and Virginia slipped their 
 arms around each other, and went skipping up 
 the stairs. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! " answered Virginia. " I used 
 to practise so much with my Indian bow and 
 arrow out at the fort, that I could hit centre 
 nearly every time. I am not going to shoot 
 to-night. Aunt Allison thinks it wouldn't be 
 fair." 
 
 When they reached the top of the stairs, Vir- 
 ginia went into her room to light a wax taper 
 in one of the tall silver candlesticks on her 
 dressing-table. "I think that Aunt Allison 
 must have left those arrows in the blue room/' 
 she said, leading the way down the cross hall 
 which went to the north wing. " She made the 
 pie in there this morning, and all the other 
 things were there. Nobody comes over in
 
 THE VALENTINE PARTY. 
 
 this part of the house much in winter, unless 
 there happens to be a great deal of company." 
 
 The taper that ^ 
 
 Virginia carried 
 was the only 
 light in that part 
 of the house. 
 When she 
 reached the door 
 of the blue room 
 she turned to 
 Lloyd. Hold 
 the candle for me, 
 please," she said, -"while 
 I look in the closet." 
 
 It was a pretty picture 
 that the little "Queen 
 of Hearts " made, as she 
 stood in the doorway, 
 with the tall silver can- 
 dlestick held high in both 
 hands. Her hair shone 
 like gold in the candle- 
 light, and her glittering 
 crown flashed as if a 
 circle of fairy fireflies had been caught in its
 
 68 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 soft meshes. Her dark eyes peered anxiously 
 around the big shadowy room, lighted only by 
 her flickering taper. 
 
 Down-stairs, Malcolm and Keith were almost 
 quarrelling about her. It began by Malcolm 
 taking his brother aside and offering to trade 
 valentines with him. 
 
 " Why ? " asked Keith, suspiciously. 
 
 "'Cause yours matches the Little Colonel's, 
 and I want to take her out to dinner," ad- 
 mitted Malcolm. "She is the prettiest girl 
 here." 
 
 "But I don't want to trade," answered Keith. 
 " I want to take her myself." 
 
 " I'll give you the pick of any six stamps in 
 my album if you will." 
 
 "Don't want your old stamps," declared 
 Keith, stoutly. "I'd rather have the Little 
 Colonel for my partner." 
 
 " I think you might trade," coaxed Malcolm. 
 " It's mean not to when I'm the oldest. I'll 
 give you that Chinese puzzle you've been 
 wanting so long if you will." Keith shook his 
 head. 
 
 Just then a terrific scream sounded in the 
 upper hall, followed by another that made every
 
 THE VALENTINE PARTY. 69 
 
 one down-stairs turn pale with fright. Two 
 voices were uttering piercing shrieks, one after 
 another, so loud and frantic that even the ser- 
 vants in the back part of the house came run- 
 ning. Miss Allison, thinking of the candle she 
 had told Virginia to light, and remembering 
 the thin, white dress the child wore, instantly 
 thought she must have set herself afire. She 
 ran into the hall, so frightened that she was 
 trembling from head to foot. Before she could 
 reach the staircase, Virginia came flying down 
 the steps, white as a little ghost, and her eyes 
 wide with terror. Throwing herself into her 
 aunt's outstretched arms, she began to sob out 
 her story between great, trembling gasps. 
 
 " Oh, there's an awful, awful wild beast in 
 the blue room, nearly as tall as the ceiling ! It 
 rose up and came after us out of the corner, 
 and if I hadn't slammed the door just in time, 
 it would have eaten us up. I'm sure it would ! 
 Oo-oo-oo ! It was so awful ! " she wailed. 
 
 "Why, Virginia," exclaimed her aunt, dis- 
 tressed to see her so terrified, "it must have 
 been only a big shadow you saw. It isn't 
 possible for a wild beast to be in the blue room 
 you know. Where is Lloyd ? "
 
 7O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " She's up heah, Miss Allison," called Mom 
 Beck's voice. "She's so skeered, I'se pow'iul 
 'f raid she's gwine to faint. They sut'nly is some- 
 thing in that room, honey, deed they 'is. I kin 
 heah it movin' around now, switchin' he's tail 
 an' growlin' ! " 
 
 Malcolm and Keith, with guilty faces, went 
 dashing up the stairs, and the whole party fol- 
 lowed them at a respectful distance. When they 
 opened the door the room looked very big and 
 shadowy, and the bear, roused from its nap, 
 was standing on its hind legs beside the high- 
 posted bed. The huge figure was certainly 
 enough to frighten any one coming upon it 
 unexpectedly in the dark, and when Miss Alli- 
 son saw it she drew Virginia's trembling hand 
 into hers with a sympathetic clasp. Before 
 she could ask any questions, the boys began an 
 excited explanation. It was some time before 
 they could make their story understood. 
 
 Their grandmother was horrified, and insisted 
 on sending the animal away at once. "The 
 idea of bringing such a dangerous creature into 
 anyone's house," she exclaimed, " and, above all, 
 of shutting him up in a bedroom ! We might 
 have all been bitten, or hugged to death !
 
 THE VALENTINE FARTY. 71 
 
 " But, grandmother," begged Malcolm, " he 
 isn't dangerous. Let me bring him into the 
 !-ght, and show you what a kind old pet he is." 
 
 There was a scattering to the other end of 
 the hall as Malcolm came out, leading the bear, 
 but the children gradually drew nearer as the 
 great animal began its performances. Keith 
 whistled and kept time with his feet in a funny 
 little shuffling jig he had learned from Jonesy, 
 and the bear obligingly went through ail his 
 tricks. He was used to being pulled out to 
 perform whenever a crowd could be collected. 
 
 Virginia forgot her fear of him when he stood 
 up and presented arms like a real soldier, and 
 even went up and patted him when the show 
 was over, joining with the boys in begging that 
 he might be allowed to stay in the house until 
 morning. Mrs. Maclntyre was determined to 
 send a man down to the cabin at once to 
 investigate. She had a horror of tramps. But 
 the boys begged her to wait until daylight for 
 Jonesy's sake. 
 
 "The man will beat him if he finds out that 
 Jonesy warned us," pleaded Keith. He was 
 so earnest that the tears stood in his big, 
 trustful eyes.
 
 72 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS Of KENTUCKY. 
 
 "This is spoiling the party, mother," whis 
 pered Miss Allison, "and dinner is waiting. 
 I'll be responsible for any harm that may be 
 done if you will let the boys have their way 
 this once." 
 
 There seemed no other way to settle it just 
 then, so Bruin was allowed to go back to his 
 rug in the blue room, and the door was securely 
 locked. 
 
 Keith took Lloyd down to dinner, and his 
 grandmother heard him apologising all the 
 way down for having frightened her. The 
 little Queen of Hearts listened smilingly, but 
 her colour did not come back all evening, until 
 after the archery contest. It was when Mal- 
 colm came up with the prize he had won, a tiny 
 silver arrow, and pinned it in the knot of red 
 ribbon on her shoulder. 
 
 "Will you keep it to remember me by ?" he 
 asked, bashfully. 
 
 " Of co'se ! " she answered, with a smile that 
 showed all her roguish dimples. " I'll keep it 
 fo'evah and evah to remembah how neah I came 
 to bein' eaten up by yo' bea'h." 
 
 " It seems too bad for such a beautiful party 
 to come to an end," Sally Fairfax said when
 
 'WILL YOU KEEP IT TO REMEMBER ME BY?'
 
 THE VALENTINE PARTY. /5 
 
 the last merry game was played, the last story 
 told, and it was time to go home. " But there's 
 one comfort," she added, gathering all her gay 
 valentines together, "there needn't be any 
 end to the remembering of it. I've had such 
 a good time, Mrs. Maclntyre." 
 
 It was so late when the last carriage rolled 
 down the avenue, bearing away the last smiling 
 little guest, that the children were almost too 
 sleepy to undress. It was not long until the 
 last light was put out in every room, and a 
 deep stillness settled over the entire house. 
 One by one the lights went out in every home 
 in the valley, and only the stars were left shin- 
 ing, in the cold wintry sky. No, there was 
 one lamp that still burned. It was in the 
 little cottage where old Professor Heinrich sat 
 bowed over his books.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 
 
 SOME people said that old Johann Heinrich 
 never slept, for no matter what hour of the 
 night one passed his lonely little house, a lamp 
 was always burning. He was a queer old Ger- 
 man naturalist, living by himself in a cottage 
 adjoining the Maclntyre place. He had been 
 a professor in a large university until he grew 
 too old to keep his position. Why he should 
 have chosen Lloydsborough Valley as the place 
 to settle for the remainder of his life, no one 
 could tell. 
 
 He kept kimself away from his neighbours, 
 and spent so much time roaming around the 
 woods by himself that people called him 
 queer. They did not know that he had 
 written two big books about the birds and 
 insects he loved so well, or that he could tell 
 them facts more wonderful than fairy tales 
 76
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 77 
 
 about these little wild creatures of the wood- 
 land. 
 
 j To-night he had read later than usual, and 
 his fire was nearly out. He was too poor to 
 keep a servant, so when he found that the coal- 
 hod was empty he had to go out to the kitchen 
 to fill it himself. That is why he saw some- 
 thing that happened soon after midnight, while 
 everybody else in the valley was sound 
 asleep. 
 
 Over in the cabin by the spring-house where 
 the boys had left the tramp and Jonesy, a puff 
 of smoke went curling around the roof. Then 
 a tongue of flame shot up through the cedars, 
 and another and another until the sky was red 
 with an angry glare. It lighted up the eastern 
 window-panes of the servants' cottage, but the 
 inmates, tired from the unusual serving of the 
 evening before, slept on. It shone full across 
 the window of Virginia's room, but she was 
 dreaming of being chased by bears, and only 
 turned uneasily in her sleep. 
 
 The old professor, on his way to the kitchen, 
 noticed that it seemed strangely light outside. 
 He shuffled to the door and looked out. 
 
 " Ach Himmel ! " he exclaimed, excitedly.
 
 78 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " Somebody vil shust in his bed be burnt, if 
 old Johann does not haste make ! " 
 
 Not waiting to close the door behind him, or 
 even to catch up something to protect his old 
 bald head from the intense cold of the winter 
 night, he ran out across the garden. His shuffling 
 feet, in their flapping old carpet slippers, forgot 
 their rheumatism, and his shoulders dropped 
 the weight of their seventy years. He ran like 
 a boy across the meadow, through the gap in 
 the fence, and down the hill to the cabin by the 
 spring. 
 
 All one side of it was in flames. The fire 
 was curling around the front door and bursting 
 through the windows with fierce cracklings. 
 Dashing frantically around to the back door, he 
 threw himself against it, shouting to know if 
 any one was within. A blinding rush of smoke 
 was his only answer as he backed away from 
 the overpowering heat, but something fell across 
 the door-sill in a limp little heap. It was 
 Jonesy. 
 
 Dragging the child to a safe distance from 
 the burning building, he ran back, fearing that 
 some one else might be in danger, but this time 
 the flames met him at the door, and it was
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 79 
 
 impossible to go in. His hoarse shouting roused 
 the servants, but by the time they reached the 
 cabin the roof had fallen in, and all danger of 
 the fire spreading to other buildings was over. 
 
 While the professor was bending over Jonesy, 
 trying to bring him back to consciousness, Miss 
 Allison came running down the path. She had 
 an eiderdow n quilt wrapped around her over her 
 dressing-gown. The shouts had awakened her, 
 also, and she had slipped out as quietly as 
 possible, not wishing to alarm her mother. 
 
 " How did it happen ? " she demanded, breath- 
 lessly " Is the child badly burned ? Is any one 
 else hurt ? Is the tramp in the cabin ? " 
 
 No one gave any answer to her rapid ques- 
 tions. The old professor shook his bead, but 
 did not look up. He was bending over Jonesy, 
 trying to restore him to consciousness. He 
 seemed to know the right things to do for him, 
 and in a little while the child opened his eyes 
 and looked around wonderingly. In a few min- 
 utes he was able to tell what he knew about the 
 fire, 
 
 It was not much, only a horrible recollection 
 of being awakened by a feeling that he was 
 choking in the rhick smoke that filled the room ;
 
 8O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 of hearing the boss swear at him to be quick 
 and follow hirn or he would be burned to death. 
 Then there had been an awful moment of grop- 
 ing through the blinding, choking smoke, trying 
 to find a way out. The man sprang to a window 
 and made his escape, but as the outside air 
 rushed in through the opening he left, it seemed 
 to fan the smoke instantly into flame. 
 
 Jonesy had struck out at the wall of fire with 
 his helpless little hands, and then, half-crazed 
 by the scorching pain, dropped to the floor and 
 crawled in the opposite direction, just as the 
 professor burst open the door. 
 
 The sight of the poor little blistered face 
 brought the tears to Miss Allison's eyes, and 
 she called two of the coloured men, directing 
 them to carry Jonesy to the house, and then go 
 at once for a doctor. But the professor inter- 
 fered, insisting that Jonesy should be taken to 
 his house. He said that he knew how to pre- 
 pare the cooling bandages that were needed, and 
 that he would sit up all night to apply them. 
 He could not sleep anyhow, he said, after such 
 great excitement. 
 
 " But I feel responsible for him," urged Miss 
 Allison. " Since it happened on our place, and
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 8 1 
 
 my little nephews brought him here, it seems to 
 me that we ought to have the care of him." 
 
 The professor waved her aside, lifting Jonesy's 
 head as tenderly as a nurse could have done, and 
 motioned the coloured men to lift him up. 
 
 " No, no, fraulein," he said. " I have had 
 eggsperience. It is besser the poor leedle 
 knabe go mit me ! " 
 
 There was no opposing the old man's masterful 
 way. Miss Allison stepped aside for them to pass, 
 calling after him her willingness to do the nurs- 
 ing he had taken upon himself, and insisting that 
 she would come early in the morning to help. 
 
 Unc' Henry was left to guard the ruins, lest 
 some stray spark should be blown toward the 
 other buildings. " Dis yere ole niggah wa'n't 
 mistaken aftah all," he muttered. " Dee was 
 somebody prowlin' 'roun' de premises yistiddy 
 evenin'." Then he searched the ground, all 
 around the cabin, for footprints in the snow. 
 He found some tracks presently, and followed 
 them over the meadow in the starlight, across 
 the road, and down the railroad track several 
 rods. There they suddenly disappeared. The 
 tramp had evidently walked on the rail some 
 distance. If Unc' Henry had gone quarter of
 
 82 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 a mile farther up the track, he would have found 
 those same sliding imprints on every other cross- 
 tie, as if the man had taken long running leaps 
 in his haste to get away. 
 
 JoneSy stoutly- denied that the man had set 
 fire to the cabin. " We nearly froze to death 
 that night," he said, when questioned about it 
 afterward, "and the boss piled on an awful big 
 lot of wood just before he went to bed." 
 
 "Then what made him take to his heels so 
 fast if he didn't ? " some one asked. 
 
 " I don't know," answered Jonesy. " He 
 said that luck was always against him, and 
 maybe he thought nobody would believe him 
 if he did say that he didn't do it." 
 
 Several days after that Malcolm found the 
 tramp's picture in the Courier-Journal. He 
 was a noted criminal who had escaped from a 
 Northern penitentiary some two months before, 
 and had been arrested by the Louisville police. 
 There was no mistaking him. That big, ugly 
 scar branded him on cheek and forehead like 
 another Cain. 
 
 "And to think that that terrible man was 
 harboured on my place ! " exclaimed Mrs. Mac- 
 Intyre when she heard of it. "And you boys
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 83 
 
 were down there in the cabin with him for 
 hours ! Sat beside him and talked with him ! 
 What will your mother say ? I feel as if you 
 had been exposed to the smallpox, and I cannot 
 be too thankful now that the boy who was 
 with him was not brought here. He isn't a 
 fit companion for you. Not that the poor little 
 unfortunate is to blame. He cannot help be- 
 ing a child of the slums, and he must be put 
 in an orphan asylum or a reform school at 
 once. It is probably the only thing that can 
 save him from growing up to be a criminal like 
 the man who brought him here. I shall see 
 what can be done about it, as soon as possible." 
 
 " A child of the slums ! " Malcolm and Keith 
 repeated the expression afterward, with only a 
 vague idea of its meaning. It seemed to set 
 poor Jonesy apart from themselves as some- 
 thing unclean, something that their happy, 
 well-filled lives must not be allowed to touch. 
 
 Maybe if Jonesy had been an attractive child, 
 with a sensitive mouth, and big, appealing eyes, 
 he might have found his way more easily into 
 people's hearts. But he was a lean, snub-nosed 
 little fellow, with a freckled face and neglected 
 hair. No one would ever find his cheek a
 
 84 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 tempting one to kiss, and no one would be 
 moved, by any feeling save pity, to stoop and 
 put affectionate arms around Jonesy. He was 
 only a common little street gamin, as unlovely 
 as he was unloved. 
 
 "What a blessing that there are such places 
 as orphan asylums for children of that class," said. 
 Mrs. Maclntyre, after one of her visits to him. 
 " I must make arrangements for him to be put 
 into one as soon as he is able to be moved." 
 
 " I think he will be very loath to leave the 
 old professor," answered Miss Allison. " He has 
 been so good to the child, amusing him by the 
 hour with his microscopes and collections of in- 
 sects, telling him those delightful old German 
 folk-lore tales, and putting him to sleep every 
 night to the music of his violin. What a child- 
 lover he is, and what a delightful old man in 
 every way ! I am glad we have discovered him." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Maclntyre ; "and when this 
 little tramp is sent away, I want the children to 
 go there often. I asked him if he could not 
 teach them this spring, at least make a beginning 
 with them in natural history, and he appeared 
 much pleased. He is as poor as a church 
 mouse, and would be very glad of the money."
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 8$ 
 
 "That reminds me," said Miss Allison, "he 
 asked me if the boys could not come down to 
 see Jonesy this afternoon, and bring the bear. 
 He thought it would give the little fellow so 
 much pleasure, and might help him to forget 
 his suffering." 
 
 Mrs. Maclntyre hesitated. "I do not be- 
 lieve their mother would like it," she answered. 
 " Sydney is careful enough about their associ- 
 ates, but Elise is doubly particular. You can 
 imagine how much badness this child must 
 know when you remember how he has been 
 reared. He told me that his name is Jones 
 Carter, and that he cannot remember ever hav- 
 ing a father or a mother. I questioned him 
 very closely this morning. He comes from the 
 worst of the Chicago slums. He slept in the 
 cellar of one of its poorest tenement houses, and 
 lived in the gutters. He has a brother only a 
 little older, who is a bootblack. On days when 
 shines were plentiful they had something to 
 eat, otherwise they starved or begged." 
 
 " Poor little lamb," murmured Miss Allison. 
 
 "It was by the brother's advice he came 
 away with that tramp," continued Mrs. Macln- 
 tyre, " He had gotten possession of that
 
 86 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 trained bear in some way, and probably took 
 a fancy to Jones because he could whistle and 
 dance all sorts of jigs. He probably thought 
 it would be a good thing to have a child with 
 him to work on peoples' sympathies. They 
 walked all the way from Chicago to Lloyds- 
 borough, Jones told me, excepting three days' 
 journey they made in a wagon. They have 
 been two months on the road, and showed the 
 bear in the country places they passed through. 
 They avoided the large towns." 
 
 "Think what a Christmas he must have 
 had ! " exclaimed Miss Allison. 
 
 " Christmas ! I doubt if he ever heard the 
 word. His speech is something shocking ; 
 nothing but the slang of the streets, and so 
 ungrammatical that I could scarcely under- 
 stand him at times. No, I am very sure that 
 neither Sydney nor Elise would want the boys 
 to be with him." 
 
 " But he is so little, mother, and so sick and 
 pitiful looking," pleaded Miss Allison. " Surely 
 he cannot know so very much badness or hurt 
 the boys if they go down to cheer him up for 
 a little while." 
 
 Notwithstanding Mrs. Maclntyre's fears, she
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 87 
 
 consented to the boys visiting Jonesy that 
 afternoon. She could not resist the professor's 
 second appeal or the boys' own urging. 
 
 They took the bear with them, which Jonesy 
 welcomed like a lost friend. They spent an 
 interesting hour among the professor's collec- 
 tions, listening to his explanations in his funny 
 broken English. Then they explored his cot- 
 tage, much amused by his queer housekeeping, 
 cracked nuts on the hearth, and roasted apples 
 on a string in front of the fire. 
 
 Jonesy did not seem to be cheered up by the 
 visit as much as the professor had expected. 
 Presently the old man left the room and Keith 
 sat down on the side of the bed. 
 
 "What makes you so still, Jonesy?" he 
 asked. " You haven't said a word for the last 
 half hour." 
 
 " I was thinking about Barney," he answered, 
 keeping his face turned away. " Barney is my 
 brother, you know." 
 
 " Yes, so grandmother said," answered Keith. 
 " How big is he ? " 
 
 " 'Bout as big as yourn." There was a choke 
 in Jonesy's voice now. " Seein' yourn put his 
 arm across your shoulder and pullin' your head
 
 88 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 back by one ear and pinchin' you sort in fun like, 
 made me think the way Barney uster do to me." 
 
 Keith did not know what to say, so there was 
 a long, awkward pause. 
 
 "I'd never a-left him," said Jonesy, "but the 
 boss said it 'ud only be a little while and we'd 
 make so much money showin' the bear that I'd 
 have a whole pile to take home. I could ride 
 back on the cars and take a whole trunk full of 
 nice things to Barney, clothes, and candy, and 
 a swell watch and chain, and a bustin' beauty of 
 a bike. Now the bear's sold and the boss has 
 run away, and I don't know how I can get back 
 to Barney. Him an me's all each other's got, 
 and I want to see him so bad." 
 
 The little fellow's lip quivered, and he put up 
 one bandaged hand to wipe away the hot tears 
 that would keep coming, in spite of his efforts 
 not to make a baby of himself. There was 
 something so pitiful in the gesture that Keith 
 looked across at Malcolm and then patted the 
 bedclothes with an affectionate little hand. 
 
 "Never mind, Jonesy," he said, "papa will 
 be -home in the spring and he'll send you back 
 to Barney." But Jonesy never having known 
 anything of fathers whose chief pleasure is in
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 89 
 
 spending money to make little sons happy, was 
 not comforted by that promise as much as 
 Keith thought he ought to be. 
 
 "But I won't be here then," he sobbed. 
 "They're goin' to put me in a 'sylum, and I 
 can't get out for so long that maybe Barney will 
 be dead before we ever find each other again." 
 
 He was crying violently now. 
 
 " Who is going to put you in an asylum ? " 
 asked Malcolm, lifting an end of the pillow 
 under which Jonesy's head had burrowed, to 
 hide the grief that his eight-year-old manhood 
 made him too proud to show. 
 
 "An old lady with white hair what comes 
 here every day. The professor said he would
 
 9O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 keep me if he wasn't so old and hard up, and 
 she said as how a 'sylum was the proper place 
 for a child of the slums, and he said yes if they 
 wasn't nobody to care for 'em. But I've got 
 somebody ! " he cried. " I've got Barney ! Oh, 
 dorit let them shut me up somewhere so I can't 
 never get back to Barney ! " 
 
 "They don't shut you up when they send 
 you to an asylum," said Malcolm. " The one 
 near here is a lovely big house, with acres of 
 green grass around it, and orchards and vine- 
 yards, and they are ever so good to the chil- 
 dren, and give them plenty to eat and wear, 
 and send them to school." 
 
 " Barney wouldn't be there," sobbed Jonesy, 
 diving under the pillow again. " I don't want 
 nothing but him." 
 
 " Well, we'll see what we can do," said Mal- 
 colm, as he heard the professor coming back. 
 " If we could only keep you here until spring, 
 I am sure that papa would send you back all 
 right. He's always helping people that get 
 into trouble." 
 
 Jonesy took his little snub nose out of the 
 pillow as the professor came in, and looked 
 around defiantly as if ready to fight the first
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 9! 
 
 one who dared to hint that he had been crying. 
 The boys took their leave soon after, leading 
 the bear back to his new quarters in the car- 
 riage house, where they had made him a com- 
 fortable den. Then they walked slowly up to 
 the house, their arms thrown across each 
 other's shoulders. 
 
 " S'pose it was us," said Keith, after walk- 
 ing on a little way in silence. " S'pose that 
 you and I were left of all the family, and didn't 
 have any friends in the world, and I was to 
 get separated from you and couldn't get 
 back?" 
 
 "That would be tough luck, for sure," an- 
 swered Malcolm. 
 
 "Don't you s'pose Jonesy feels as badly 
 about it as we would ? " asked Keith. 
 
 "Shouldn't be surprised," said Malcolm, be- 
 ginning to whistle. Keith joined in, and keep- 
 ing step to the tune, like two soldiers, they 
 marched on into the house. 
 
 Virginia found them in the library, a little 
 while later, sitting on the hearth-rug, tailor- 
 fashion. They were still talking about Jonesy. 
 They could think of nothing else but the lone- 
 liness of the little waif, and his pitiful appeal ;
 
 92 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " Oh, don't let them shut me up where I can't 
 never get back to Barney." 
 
 "Why don't you write to your father?" 
 asked Virginia, when they had told her the 
 story of their visit. 
 
 " Oh, it is so hard to explain things in a 
 letter," answered Malcolm, "and being off 
 there, he'd say that grandmother and all the 
 grown people certainly know best. But if he 
 could see Jonesy, how pitiful looking he is, 
 and hear him crying to go back to his brother, 
 I know he'd feel the way we do about it." 
 
 " I called the professor out in the hall, and 
 told him so," said Keith, "and asked him if he 
 couldn't adopt Jonesy, or something, until papa 
 comes home. But he said that he is too poor. 
 He has only a few dollars a month to live on. 
 I didn't mind asking him. He smiled in that 
 big, kind way he always does. He said Jonesy 
 was lots of company, and he would like to keep 
 him this summer, if he could afford it, and 
 let him get well and strong out here in the 
 country." 
 
 "Then he would keep him till Uncle Sydney 
 comes, if somebody would pay his board ? " 
 asked Virginia.
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 9$ 
 
 " Yes," said Malcolm, " but that doesn't help 
 matters much, for we children are the only 
 ones who want him to stay, and our monthly 
 allowances, all put together, wouldn't be 
 enough." 
 
 "We might earn the money ourselves," sug- 
 gested Virginia, after awhile, breaking a long 
 silence. 
 
 " How ? " demanded Malcolm. " Now, Gin- 
 ger, you know, as well as I do, there is no way 
 for us to earn anything this time of year. You 
 can't pick fruit in the dead of winter, can you ? 
 or pull weeds, or rake leaves ? What other 
 way is there ? " 
 
 " We might go to every house in the valley, 
 and exhibit the bear," said Keith, "taking up 
 a collection each time." 
 
 " Now you've made me think of it," cried 
 Virginia, excitedly. "I've thought of a good 
 way. We'll give Jonesy a benefit, like great 
 singers have. The bear will be the star per- 
 former, and we'll all act, too, and sell the tick- 
 ets, and have tableaux. I love to arrange 
 tableaux. We were always having them out 
 at the fort." 
 
 " I bid to show off the bear," cried Malcolm,
 
 94 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 entering into Virginia's plan at once. " May 
 be I'll learn something to recite, too." 
 
 "I'll help print the tickets," said Keith, 
 "and go around selling them, and be in any- 
 thing you want me to be. How many tableaux 
 are you going to have, Ginger ? " 
 
 " I can't tell yet," she answered, but q 
 moment after she cried out, her eyes shining 
 with pleasure, " Oh, I've thought of a lovely 
 one. We can have the Little Colonel and the 
 bear for ' Beauty and the Beast.' " 
 
 Malcolm promptly turned a somersault on 
 the rug, to express his approval, but came up 
 with a grave face, saying, " I'll bet that grand- 
 mother will say we can't have it." 
 
 " Let's get Aunt Allison on our side," sug- 
 gested Virginia. " She's up in her room now, 
 painting a picture." 
 
 A little sigh of disappointment escaped Miss 
 Allison's lips, as she heard the rush of feet on 
 the stairs. This was the first time that she had 
 touched her brushes since the children's com- 
 ing, and she had hoped that this one after- 
 noon would be free from interruption, when she 
 heard them planning their afternoon's occupa- 
 tions at the lunch -table. They had come back
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 95 
 
 before the little water-colour sketch she was 
 making was quite finished. 
 
 There was no disappointment, however, in 
 the bright face she turned toward them, and 
 Virginia lost no time in beginning her story. 
 She had been elected to tell it, but before it 
 was done all three had had a part in the 
 telling, and all three were waiting with wistful 
 eyes for her answer. 
 
 " Well, what is it you want me to do ? " she 
 asked, finally. 
 
 " Oh, just be on our side ! " they exclaimed, 
 "and get grandmother to say yes. You see 
 she doesn't feel about Jonesy the way we do. 
 She is willing to pay a great deal of money 
 to have him taken off and cared for, but 
 she says she doesn't see how grandchildren 
 of hers can be so interested in a little tramp 
 that comes from nobody knows where, and who 
 will probably end his days in a penitentiary." 
 
 Aunt Allison answered Malcolm's last re- 
 mark a little sternly. " You must understand 
 that it is only for your own good that she is 
 opposed to Jonesy's staying," she said. " There 
 is nobody in the valley so generous and kind 
 to the poor as your grandmother,"
 
 96 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " Yes'm," said Virginia, meekly, " but you'll 
 ask her, won't you please, auntie ? " 
 
 Miss Allison smiled at her persistence. " Wait 
 until I finish this," she said. " Then I'll go 
 down-stairs and put the matter before her, and 
 report to you at dinner-time. Now are you 
 satisfied ? " 
 
 "Yes," they cried in chorus, " you're on our 
 side. It's all right now ! " With a series of 
 hearty hugs that left her almost breathless, 
 they hurried away. 
 
 When Miss Allison kept her promise she 
 did not go to her mother with the children's 
 story of Jonesy, to move her to pity. She 
 told her simply what they wanted, and then 
 said, " Mother, you know I have begun to teach 
 the children the 'Vision of Sir Launfal.' Vir- 
 ginia has learned every word of it, and the boys 
 will soon know all but the preludes. There 
 will never be a better chance than this for 
 them to learn the lesson : 
 
 " ' Not what we give, but what we share, 
 For the gift without the giver is bare.' 
 
 "This would be a real sharing of themselves, 
 all their time and best energies, for they will
 
 A FIRE AND A PLAN. 9/ 
 
 have to work hard to get up such an entertain- 
 ment as this. It isn't for Jonesy's sake I ask 
 it, but for the children's own good." 
 
 The old lady looked thoughtfully into the fire 
 a moment, and then said, " Maybe you are right, 
 Allison. I do want to keep them unspotted 
 from a knowledge of the world's evils, but I 
 do not want to make them selfish. If this 
 little beggar at the gate can teach them where 
 to find the Holy Grail, through unselfish ser- 
 vice to him, I do not want to stand in the way. 
 Bless their little hearts, they may play Sir 
 Launfal if they want to, and may they have 
 as beautiful a vision as his ! "
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 JONESY'S BENEFIT. 
 
 THE Jonesy Benefit grew like Jack's bean- 
 stalk after Miss Allison took charge of it. 
 There was less than a week in which to get 
 ready, as the boys insisted on having it on the 
 twenty-second of February, in honour of Wash- 
 ington's birthday ; but in that short time the 
 childish show which Ginger had proposed grew 
 into an entertainment so beautiful and elabo- 
 rate that the neighbourhood talked of it for 
 weeks after. 
 
 Miss Allison spent one sleepless night, plan- 
 ning her campaign like a general, and next morn- 
 ing had an army of helpers at work. Before 
 the day was over she sent a letter to an old 
 school friend of hers in the city, Miss Eleanor 
 Bond, who had been her most, intimate com- 
 panion all through her school-days, and who 
 still spent a part of every summer with her. 
 
 "Dearest Nell," the letter said, "come out 
 98
 
 JONESY'S BENEFIT. 99 
 
 to-morrow on the first afternoon train, if you 
 love me. The children are getting up an en- 
 tertainment for charity, which shall be duly 
 explained on your arrival. No time now. I 
 am superintending a force of carpenters in the 
 college hall, where the entertainment is to take 
 place, have two seamstresses in the house 
 hurrying up costumes, and am helping mother 
 scour the country for pretty children to put in 
 the tableaux. 
 
 "The house is like an ant-hill in commotion, 
 there is so much scurrying around ; but I know 
 that is what you thoroughly enjoy. You shall 
 have a finger in every pie if you will come out 
 and help me to make this a never-to-be-forgotten 
 occasion. 
 
 " I want to make the old days of chivalry 
 live again for Virginia and Malcolm and Keith. 
 I am going back to King Arthur's Court for 
 the flower of knighthood at his round table. 
 Come and read for us between tableaux as 
 only you can do. Be the interpreter of ' Sir 
 Launfal's Vision ' and the ' Idylls of the King.' 
 Give us the benefit of your talent for sweet 
 charity's sake, if not for the sake of ' auld long 
 syne ' and your devoted ALLISON."
 
 IOO TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " She'll be here," said Miss Allison, as sh$ 
 sealed the letter, nodding confidently to Mrs. 
 Sherman, who had come over to help with 
 Lloyd's costume. " You remember Nell Bond, 
 do you not ? She took the prize every year in 
 elocution, and was always in demand at every 
 entertainment. She is the most charming 
 reader I ever heard, and as for story-telling 
 well, she's better than the 'Arabian Nights.' 
 You must let the Little Colonel come over 
 every evening while she is here." 
 
 Miss Bond arrived the next day, and her 
 visit was a time of continual delight to the 
 children. They followed her wherever she 
 went, until Mrs. Maclntyre laughingly called 
 her the ' Pied Piper of Hamelin,' and asked 
 what she had done to bewitch them. 
 
 The first night they gathered around the 
 library-table, all as busy as bees. Keith and the 
 Little Colonel were cutting tinsel into various 
 lengths for Virginia to tie into fringe for a gay 
 banner. Malcolm was gilding some old spurs, 
 Mrs. Maclntyre sat stringing yards of wax 
 beads, that gleamed softly in the lamplight like 
 great rope of pearls, and Mrs. Sherman was 
 painting the posters, which were to be put up
 
 JONESY S BENEFIT. IOI 
 
 in the post-office and depot as advertisements 
 of the Jonesy Benefit. 
 
 Miss Allison, who had been busy for hours 
 with pasteboard and glue, tin-foil and scissors, 
 held up the suit of mail which she had just 
 finished. 
 
 " Isn't that fine ! " cried Malcolm. " It looks 
 exactly like some of the armour we saw in the 
 Tower of London, doesn't it, Keith ? " 
 
 " I've thought of a riddle ! " exclaimed Vir- 
 ginia. "Why is Aunt Allison's head like 
 Aladdin's lamp ? " 
 
 "'Cause it's so bright?" ventured Malcolm. 
 
 " No ; because she has only to rub it, and 
 everything she thinks of appears. I don't see 
 how it is possible to make so many beautiful 
 things out of almost nothing." 
 
 Virginia looked admiringly around at all the 
 pretty articles scattered over the room. A 
 helmet with nodding white plumes lay on the 
 piano. A queen's robe trailed its royal ermine 
 beside it. A sword with a jewelled hilt shone 
 on the mantel, and a dozen dazzling shields 
 were ranged in various places on the low book- 
 shelves. 
 
 It was easy, in the midst of such surround-
 
 IO2 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 ings, for the children to imagine themselves 
 back in the clays of King Arthur and his court, 
 while Miss Bond sat there telling them such 
 beautiful tales of its fair ladies and noble 
 knights. Indeed, before the day of the enter- 
 tainment came around they even found them- 
 selves talking to each other in the quaint speech 
 of that olden time. 
 
 When Malcolm accidentally ran against his 
 grandmother in the hall, instead of his usual, 
 " Oh, excuse me, grandmother," it was " Prithee 
 grant me gracious pardon, fair dame. Not for 
 a king's ransom would I have thus jostled thee 
 in such unseemly haste ! " And Ginger, instead 
 of giving Keith a slap when he teasingly penned 
 her up in a corner, to make her divide some 
 nuts with him, said, in a most tragic way, " Un- 
 hand me, villain, or by my troth thou'lt rue this 
 ruffian conduct sore ! " 
 
 The library-table was strewn with books of 
 old court life, and pictures of kings and queens 
 whose costumes were to be copied in the tab- 
 leaux. There was one book which Keith car- 
 ried around with him until he had spelled out the 
 whole beautiful tale. It was called " In Kings' 
 Houses," and was the story of the little Duke
 
 ''THERE WAS ONE BOOK WHICH KEITH CARRIED AROUND 
 WITH HIM."
 
 JONESY'S BENEFIT. 105 
 
 oi Gloster who was made a knight in his boy- 
 hood. And when Keith had read it himself, he 
 took it down to the professor's, and read it all 
 over again to Jonesy. 
 
 "Think how grand he must have looked, 
 Jonesy," cried Keith, " and I am to be dressed 
 exactly like him when I am knighted in the 
 tableau." Then he read the description 
 again: 
 
 "'A suit of white velvet embroidered with 
 seed pearls, and literally blazing with jewels, 
 even the buttons being great brilliants. From 
 his shoulder hung a cloak of azure blue velvet, 
 the colour of the order, richly wrought with 
 gold ; and around his neck he wore the magnifi- 
 cent collar and jewel of St. George and the 
 Dragon, that was the personal gift of his 
 Majesty, the king.' 
 
 " Think how splendid it must have been, 
 Jonesy, when the procession came in to the 
 music of trumpets and bugles and silver flutes 
 and hautboys ! Wouldn't you like to have seen 
 the heralds marching by, two by two, in cloth 
 of gold, with an escort of the queen's guard 
 following ? All of England's best and bravest 
 were there, and they sat in the carven stalls in
 
 106 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 St. George's Chapel, with their gorgeous ban- 
 ners drooping over them. I saw that chapel, 
 Jonesy, when we were in England, and I saw 
 where the knights kept the ' vigil of arms ' in 
 the holy places, the night before they took their 
 vows." He picked up the book and read again : 
 " ' Fasting and praying and lonely watching by 
 night in the great abbey where there are so 
 many dead folk.' 
 
 " Oh, don't you wish you could have lived in 
 those days, Jonesy, and have been a knight ? " 
 
 It was all Greek to Jonesy. The terms puz- 
 zled him, but he enjoyed Keith's description of 
 the tournaments. 
 
 Several evenings after that, Keith went down 
 to the cottage dressed in the beautiful velvet 
 costume of white and blue, ablaze with rhine- 
 stones and glittering jewels. He had been 
 wrapped in his Aunt Allison's golf cape, and, 
 as he threw it off, Jonesy's eyes opened wider 
 and wider with wonder. 
 
 " Hi ! You look like a whole jeweller's 
 window ! " he cried, dazzled by the gorgeous 
 sight. The professor lighted another lamp, 
 and Keith turned slowly around, to be admired 
 on e^ery side like a pleased peacock.
 
 JONESY'S BENEFIT. IO/ 
 
 " Of course it's all only imitation," he ex- 
 plained, "but it will look just as good as the 
 real thing behind the footlights. But you ought 
 to see the stage when it's fixed up to look like 
 the Hall of the Shields, if you want to see 
 glitter. It's be-j^-tiful ! Like the one at 
 Camelot, you know." 
 
 But Jonesy did not know, and Keith had to 
 tell about that old castle at Camelot, as Miss 
 Bond had told him. How that down the side 
 of the long hall ran a treble range of shields, 
 
 " And under every shield a knight was named, 
 For such was Arthur's custom in his hall. 
 When some good knight had done one noble 
 
 deed 
 
 His arms were carven only, but if twain 
 His arms were blazoned also, but if none 
 The shield was blank and bare, without a sign, 
 Saving the name beneath." 
 
 Keith had been greatly interested in watching 
 the carpenters fix the stage so that it could be 
 made to look like the Hall of the Shields in 
 a very few moments, when the time for that 
 tableau should come. He knew where every 
 glittering shield was to hang, and every banner 
 and battle-axe.
 
 IO8 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " How do you suppose those knights felt," 
 he said to Jonesy, "who saw their shields 
 hanging there year after year, blank and bare, 
 because they had never done even one noble 
 deed ? They must have been dreadfully ashamed 
 when the king walked by and read their names 
 underneath, and then looked up at the shields 
 and saw nothing emblazoned on them or even 
 carved. Seems to me that I would have done 
 something to have made me worthy of that 
 honour if I had died for it ! " 
 
 Something, it may have been the soft, rich 
 colour of the jewel -broidered velvet the boy 
 wore, or maybe the flush that rose to his cheeks 
 at the thrill of such noble thoughts, some- 
 thing had brought an unusual beauty into his 
 face. As he stood there, with head held high, 
 his dark eyes flashing, his face glowing, and in 
 that princely dress of a bygone day, he looked 
 every inch a nobleman. There was something 
 so pure and sweet, too, in the expression of 
 his upturned face that the light upon it 
 seemed to touch it into an almost unearthly 
 fairness. 
 
 The professor, who had been watching him 
 with a tender smile on his rugged old face, drew
 
 JONESY'S BENEFIT. 109 
 
 the child toward him, and brushed the hair back 
 on his forehead. 
 
 " Ach, liebchen," he said, in his queer broken 
 speech, " thy shield will never be blank and 
 bare. Already thou hast blazoned it with the 
 beauty of a noble purpose, and like Galahad, 
 thou too shalt find the Grail." 
 
 It was Keith's turn to be puzzled, but he did 
 not like to ask for an explanation ; there was 
 something so solemn in the way the old man 
 put his hand on his head as he spoke, almost as 
 if he were bestowing a blessing. Besides, it 
 was time to go to the rehearsal at the college. 
 One of the servants had come to stay with 
 Jonesy while the professor went over to prac- 
 tise on his violin. He was to play behind the 
 scenes, a soft, low accompaniment to Miss 
 Bond's reading. 
 
 By eight o'clock, the night of the Benefit, 
 every seat in the house was full. " That's jolly 
 for Jonesy," exclaimed Malcolm, peeping out 
 from behind the curtain. "We counted up 
 that ten cents a ticket would make enough, if 
 they were all sold, to pay his board till papa 
 comes home, and buy him all the new clothes 
 he needs, too. Now every ticket is sold."
 
 1 10 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " Hurry up, Malcolm," called Keith. " We are 
 
 first on the programme, and it is time to begin." 
 
 There was a great bustle behind the scenes 
 
 for a few minutes, and then " Beauty and the 
 Beast" was announced. When the Little 
 Colonel came on the stage leading the great 
 bear, such a cheering and clapping began that
 
 JONESY'S BENEFIT. Ill 
 
 they both looked around, half frightened ; but 
 the boys followed immediately and the Little 
 Colonel, dressed as a flower girl, danced out 
 to meet Keith, who came in clicking his cas- 
 tanets in time to Malcolm's whistling. The 
 bear was made to go through all his tricks and 
 his soldier drill. 
 
 The children in the audience stood on tip- 
 toe in their eagerness to see the great animal 
 perform, and were so wild in their applause 
 that the boys begged to be allowed to take it 
 in front of the curtain every time during the 
 evening when there was a long pause while 
 some tableau was being prepared. 
 
 Over the rustle of fluttering programmes and 
 the hum of conversation that followed the first 
 number, there fell presently the soft, sweet 
 notes of the professor's violin, and Miss Bond's 
 musical voice began the story of the Vision of 
 Sir Launfal. 
 
 " My golden spurs now bring to me, 
 And bring to me my richest mail, 
 For to-morrow I go over land and sea 
 In search of the Holy Grail." 
 
 Here the curtains were drawn apart to show 
 Malcolm seated on his pony as Sir Launfal, "in
 
 112 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 his gilded mail that flamed so bright." It was 
 really a beautiful picture he made, and his 
 grandmother, leaning forward, her face beam- 
 ing with pride at the boy's noble bearing, com- 
 pared him with Arthur himself, " with lance 
 in rest, from spur to plume a star of tourna- 
 ment." 
 
 The next tableau showed him spurning the 
 leper at his gate, and turning away in disgust 
 from the beggar who " seemed the one blot on 
 the summer morn." How Miss Bond's voice 
 rang out when " the leper raised not the gold 
 from the dust." 
 
 " Better to me the poor man's crust. 
 That is no true alms which the hand can hold. 
 He gives nothing but worthless gold 
 Who gives from a sense of duty." 
 
 In the next tableau it was "as an old bent 
 man, worn-out and frail," that Sir Launfal came 
 back from his weary pilgrimage. He had not 
 found the Holy Grail, but through his own 
 sufferings he had learned pity for all pain and 
 poverty. Once more he stood beside the leper 
 at his castle gate, but this time he stooped to 
 share with him his crust and wooden bowl of 
 water.
 
 JONESYS BENEFIT. 113 
 
 Then it happened on the stage just as was 
 told in the poem. 
 
 A light shone round about the place, and 
 the crouching leper stood up. The old ragged 
 mantle dropped off, and there in a long gar- 
 ment almost dazzling in its whiteness, stood a 
 figure 
 
 " Shining and tall, and fair, and straight 
 As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful gate." 
 
 They could not see the face, it was turned 
 aside ; but the golden hair was like a glory, 
 and the uplifted arms held something high in 
 air that gleamed like a burnished star, as all 
 the lights in the room were turned full. upon 
 it, for a little space. It was a golden cup. 
 Then the voice again : 
 
 " In many climes without avail 
 Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail. 
 Behold it is here this cup, which thou 
 Didst fill at the streamlet for me but now. 
 The holy supper is kept indeed 
 In whatso we share with another's need." 
 
 It was an old story to most of the audience, 
 worn threadbare by many readings, but with 
 these living illustrations, and Miss Bond's won-
 
 114 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 derful way of telling it, a new meaning crept 
 into the well-known lines, that thrilled every 
 listener. 
 
 " Could you understand that, Teddy ? " asked 
 old Judge Fairfax, patting his little grandson 
 on the head. 
 
 " Course ! " exclaimed seven-year-old Ted, 
 who had followed his sister Sally to every 
 rehearsal. 
 
 "When you give money to people just to 
 get rid of 'em, and because you feel you'd 
 ought to, it doesn't count for anything. But 
 if you divide something you've got, and would 
 like to keep it all yourself, because you love to, 
 and are sorry for 'em, then it counts a pile. 
 Sir Launfal would have popped Jonesy into a 
 'sylum when he first started out to find that 
 gold cup, but when he came back he'd 'a' 
 worked like a horse getting up a benefit for 
 him, and would have divided his own home 
 with him, if he hadn't been living at his grand- 
 mother's, and couldn't." 
 
 An amused smile went around that part 
 of the audience which overheard Ted's shrilly 
 given explanation. 
 
 Pictures from the "Idylls of the King" fol-
 
 JONESY'S BENEFIT. 115 
 
 lowed in rapid succession, and then came the 
 prettiest of all, being the one in which Keith 
 was made a knight. Virginia as queen, her 
 short black hair covered by a powdered wig, 
 and a long court-train sweeping behind her, 
 stood touching his shoulder with the jewel- 
 hiked sword, as he knelt at her feet. Lloyd 
 and Sally Fairfax, Julia Ferris, and a dozen 
 other pretty girls of the neighbourhood, helped 
 to fill out the gay court scene, while all the 
 boys that could be persuaded to take part 
 were dressed up for heralds, guardsmen, pages, 
 and knights. That tableau had to be shown 
 four times, and then the audience kept on 
 applauding as if they never intended to stop. 
 
 The last one in this series of tableaux was 
 the Hall of the Shields, as Keith had described 
 it to Jonesy. A whole row of dazzling shields 
 hung across the back of the stage, emblazoned 
 with the arms of all the old knights whose 
 names have come down to us in song or 
 story. Then for the first time that evening 
 Miss Bond came out on the stage where she 
 could be seen, and told the story of the death of 
 King Arthur, and the passing away of the order 
 of the Round Table. She told it so well that
 
 Il6 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY 
 
 little Ted Fairfax listened with his mouth open, 
 seeming to see the great arm that rose out 
 of the water to take back the king's sword into 
 the sea, from which it had been given him. 
 An arm like a giant's, " clothed in white samite, 
 mystic, wonderful, that caught the sword by 
 the hilt, flourished it three times, and drew it 
 under the mere." 
 
 " True, ' the old order changeth,' " said Miss 
 Bond, " but knighthood has not passed away. 
 The flower of chivalry has blossomed anew in 
 this new world, and America, too, has her 
 Hall of the Shields." 
 
 Just a moment the curtains were drawn 
 together, and then were widely parted again, 
 as a chorus of voices rang out with the words : 
 
 " Hail, Columbia, happy land ; 
 Hail, ye heroes, heaven-born band ! " 
 
 In that moment, on every shield had been 
 hung the pictured face of some well-known man 
 who had helped to make his country a power 
 among the nations ; presidents, patriots, philan- 
 thropists, statesmen, inventors, and poets, 
 there they were, from army and navy, city and 
 farm, college halls and humble cabins, a long,
 
 JONESY'S BENEFIT. 1 1/ 
 
 long line, and the first was Washington, and 
 the last was the " Hero of Manila." 
 
 Cheer after cheer went up, and it might have 
 been well to have ended the programme there, 
 but to satisfy the military-loving little Ginger, 
 one more was added. 
 
 " There ought to be a Goddess of Liberty in 
 it," she insisted, "because it is Washington's 
 birthday; and if we had been doing it by 
 ourselves we were going to have something in 
 it about Cuba, on papa's account." 
 
 So when the curtain rose the last time, it 
 was on Sally Fairfax as a gorgeous Goddess of 
 Liberty, conferring knighthood on two boys who 
 stood for the Army and Navy, while a little dark- 
 eyed girl knelt at their feet as Cuba, the dis- 
 tressed maiden whom their chivalry had rescued. 
 
 It was late when the performance closed ; 
 later still when the children reached home that 
 night, for Mrs. Maclntyre had determined to 
 have a flash-light picture taken of them, and 
 they had to wait until the photographer could 
 send home for his camera. 
 
 After they reached the house they could 
 hardly be persuaded to undress. Virginia 
 trailed up and down the halls in her royal
 
 Il8 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 robes, Malcolm clanked around in his suit 
 of mail and plumed helmet, and Keith 
 stood before a mirror, admiring 
 the handsome little figure it 
 showed him. 
 
 " I hate to take it off," 
 he said, fingering the 
 dazzling collar, ablaze 
 with jewels. "I'd 
 like to be a knight 
 always, and wear a 
 sword and spurs 
 every day." 
 " So would I," 
 said Malcolm, be- 
 ginning to yawn sleep- 
 ily. " I wish that 
 Jonesy had been well 
 enough to go to-night. 
 Isn't it splendid that 
 the Benefit turned 
 out so well ? Aunt 
 Allison says there is plenty of money now to 
 get Jonesy's clothes and pay his board till papa 
 comes, and send him back to Barney, too, if 
 papa thinks best and hasn't any better plan."
 
 JONESY'S BENEFIT. 119 
 
 " I wish there'd been enough money to buy 
 i nice little home out here in the country for 
 him and Barney. Wouldn't it have been lovely 
 if there had a-been ? " cried Keith. 
 
 " Well, I should say ! " answered Malcolm. 
 " Maybe we can have another benefit some day 
 and make enough for that." 
 
 With this pleasant prospect before them, 
 they laid aside their knightly garments, hoping 
 to put them on again soon in Jonesy's behalf, 
 and talked about the home that might be his 
 some day, until they fell asleep. 
 
 The flash-light pictures of the three children 
 were all that the fondest grandmother could 
 wish. As soon as they came, Keith carried his 
 away to his room to admire in private. " It is 
 so pretty that it doesn't seem it can be me," he 
 said, propping it up on the desk before him. 
 " I wish that I could look that way always." 
 
 The next time that Miss Allison went into 
 the room she found that Keith had written 
 under it in his round, boyish hand, a quotation 
 that had taken his fancy the first time he heard 
 it. It was in one of Miss Bond's stories, and he 
 repeated it until he learned it: " Live pure,
 
 I2O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 speak truth, right the wrong, follow the king ; 
 else wherefore born f " 
 
 She asked him about it at bedtime. " Why, 
 that's our motto," he explained. "Malcolm 
 has it written under his, too. We've made up 
 our minds to be a sort of knight, just as near 
 the real thing as we can, you know, and that is 
 what knights have to do : live pure, and speak 
 truth, and right the wrong. We've always 
 tried to do the first two, so that won't be so 
 hard. It's righting the wrong that will be the 
 tough job, but we have done it a little teenty, 
 weenty bit for Jonesy, don't you think, auntie ? 
 It was all wrong that he should have such a 
 hard time and be sent to an asylum away from 
 Barney, when we have you all and everything 
 nice. Malcolm and I have been talking it over. 
 If we could do something to keep him from grow- 
 ing up into a tramp like that awful man that 
 brought him here, wouldn't that be as good a 
 deed as some that the real knights did ? 
 Wouldn't that be serving our country, too, 
 Aunt Allison, just a little speck ? " He asked 
 the question anxiously. Malcolm said nothing, 
 but also waited with a wistful look for her 
 answer.
 
 JONES Y'S BENEFIT. 121 
 
 "My dear little Sir Galahads," she said, 
 bending over to give each of the boys a good- 
 night kiss, " you will be ' really truly ' knights if 
 you can live up to the motto you have chosen. 
 Heaven help you to be always as worthy of 
 that title as you are to-night ! " 
 
 Keith held her a moment, with both arms 
 around her neck. "What does that mean, 
 auntie ? " he asked. " That is what the pro- 
 fessor said, too, Galahad." 
 
 " It is too late to explain to you to-night," 
 she said, " but I will tell you sometime soon, 
 dear." 
 
 It was several days before she reminded them 
 of that promise. Then she called them into her 
 room and told them the story of Sir Galahad, 
 the maiden knight, whose " strength was as the 
 strength of ten because his heart was pure." 
 Then from a little morocco case, lined with 
 purple velvet, she took two pins that she had 
 bought in the city that morning. Each was a 
 little white enamel flower with a tiny diamond 
 in the centre, like a drop of dew. 
 
 " You can't wear armour in these days," she 
 said, as she fastened one on the lapel of each 
 boy's coat, " but this shall be the badge of your
 
 122 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 knighthood, ' wearing the white flower of a 
 blameless life.' The little pins will help you to 
 remember, maybe, and will remind you that you 
 are pledged to right the wrong wherever you 
 find it, in little things as well as great." 
 
 It was a very earnest talk that followed. The 
 boys came out from her room afterward, wear- 
 ing the tiny white pins, and with a sweet seri- 
 ousness in their faces. A noble purpose had 
 been born in their hearts ; but alas for chivalry ! 
 the first thing they did was to taunt Virginia 
 with the fact that she could never be a knight 
 because she was only a girl. 
 
 " I don't care," retorted Ginger, quickly. 
 " I can be a a patriot, anyhow, and that's 
 lots better." 
 
 The boys laughed, and she flushed angrily. 
 
 " They ought to mean the same thing exactly 
 in this day of the world," said Miss Allison, 
 coming up in time to hear the dispute that 
 followed. "Virginia, you shall have a badge, 
 too. Run into my room and bring me that 
 little jewelled flag on my cushion." 
 
 " I think that this is the very prettiest piece 
 of jewelry you have," exclaimed Virginia, com- 
 ing back with the pin. It was a little flag
 
 JONESY S BENEFIT. 123 
 
 whose red, white, and blue was made of tiny 
 settings of garnets, sapphires, and diamonds. 
 
 " You think that, because it is in the shape 
 of a flag," said Miss Allison, with an amused 
 smile. " Well, it shall be yours. See how 
 well it can remind you of the boys' knightly 
 motto. There is the white for the first part, 
 the ' live pure,' and the ' true blue ' for the 
 ' speak truth,' and then the red, surely no 
 soldier's little daughter needs to be told what 
 that stands for, when her own brave father has 
 spilled part of his good red life-blood to ' right 
 the wrong ' on the field of battle." 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Allison ! " was all that Virginia 
 could gasp in her delight as she clasped the 
 precious pin tightly in her hand. " Is it mine ? 
 For my very own ? " 
 
 " For your very own, dear," was the answer. 
 
 " Oh, I'm so glad ! " cried Virginia, thanking 
 her with a kiss. " I'd a thousand times rather 
 have it than one like the boys'. It means so 
 much more ! "
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL'S TWO RESCUES. 
 
 EARLY in March, when the crocuses were 
 beginning to bud under the dining-room win- 
 dows, there came one of those rare spring 
 days that seem to carry the warmth of summer 
 in its sunshine. 
 
 " Exactly the kind of a day for a picnic," 
 Virginia had said that morning, and when her 
 grandmother objected, saying that the ground 
 was still too damp, she suggested having it in 
 the hay-barn. The boys piled the hay that was 
 left from the winter's supply up on one side of 
 the great airy room, set wide the big double 
 doors, and swept it clean. 
 
 "It is clean enough now for even grand- 
 mother to eat in," said Virginia, as she spread 
 a cloth on the table Unc' Henry had carried 
 out for them. " It's good enough for a queen. 
 Oh, I'll tell you what let's do. Let's play that 
 124
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL'S TWO RESCUES. 125 
 
 Malcolm and I are a wicked king and queen 
 and Lloyd is a 'fair ladye ' that we have shut 
 up in a dungeon. This will be a banquet, and 
 while we are eating Keith can be the knight 
 who comes to her rescue and carries her off on 
 his pony." 
 
 " That's all right," consented Keith, " except 
 the eating part. How can we get our share of 
 the picnic ?" 
 
 " We'll save it for you," answered Virginia, 
 "and you can eat it afterward." 
 
 " Save enough for Jonesy, too," said Keith. 
 "He shall be my page and help me rescue her. 
 I'll go and ask him now." 
 
 The month had made a great change in 
 Jonesy. With plenty to eat, his thin little 
 snub-nosed face grew plump and bright. There 
 was a good-humoured twinkle in his sharp eyes, 
 and being quick as a monkey at imitating the 
 movements of those around him, Mrs. Mac- 
 Intyre found nothing to criticise in his manners 
 when Malcolm and Keith brought him into the 
 house. Their pride in him was something amus- 
 ing, and seeing that, after all, he was an inoffen- 
 sive little fellow, she made no more objections 
 to their playing with him.
 
 126 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 By the time Keith was back again with 
 Jonesy, the other guests had arrived, and the 
 Little Colonel had been lowered into a deep 
 feed-bin, in lieu of a dungeon. The banquet 
 began in great state, but in a few moments was 
 interrupted by a fearful shrieking from the 
 depths of the bin. The fair ladye protested 
 that she would not stay in her dungeon. 
 
 "There's nasty big spidahs down heah ! " 
 she called. " Ow ! One is crawlin' on my neck 
 now, and my face is all tangled up in cobwebs ! 
 Get me out ! Get me out ! Quick, Gingah ! " 
 
 The king sprang up to go to her rescue, but 
 was promptly motioned to his seat again by a 
 warning shake of the other crowned head. 
 
 " Why, of course ! There's always spiders in 
 dungeons," called the wicked queen, coolly help- 
 ing herself to another piece of chicken. " Be- 
 sides, you should say 'your Majesty' when you 
 are talking to me." 
 
 " But there's a mouse in heah, too," she called 
 back, in distress. " Oo ! Oo ! It ran ovah my 
 feet. If you don't make them take me out of 
 heah, Gingah Dudley, I'll do something awful 
 to you ! Murdah ! Murdah ! " she yelled, pound- 
 ing on the sides of the bin with both her
 
 1 THE LITTLE COLONEL HAD BEEN LOWERED INTO A DEEP 
 FEED-BIN."
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL'S TWO RESCUES. 129 
 
 fists, and stamping her little foot in a furious 
 rage. 
 
 Seeing that Lloyd was really terrified, and 
 fearing that her screams would bring some one 
 from the house, the royal couple and their 
 guests sprang to the rescue, nearly upsetting 
 the banquet as they did so. The game would 
 have been broken up then, when she was lifted 
 out from the feed -bin, red and angry, if it had 
 not been for the king's great tact. He brushed 
 the cobwebs from her face and hair, and even 
 got down on his royal knees to ask her pardon. 
 
 His polite coaxing finally had its effect on 
 the little lady, and he persuaded her to climb 
 a ladder into a loft just above them. Here on 
 a pile of clean hay, beside an open window that 
 looked across a peaceful meadow, her anger 
 cooled. Towers were far more comfortable 
 than dungeons, in her opinion, and when Mal- 
 colm came up the ladder with a plateful of the 
 choicest morsels of the feast, she began to 
 enjoy her part of the play. Jonesy was sent 
 to inform his knight of the change from dungeon, 
 to tower, and the banquet went merrily on. 
 
 He found Keith waiting below the barn, with 
 his pony tied to a fence. On the other side of
 
 I3O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 the fence lay the railroad track, which skirted 
 the back of Mrs. Maclntyre's place for over half 
 a mile. 
 
 " Do you see that hand-car ? " asked Keith, 
 pointing with his riding-whip to one on the 
 track. " The section boss let Malcolm and me 
 ride up and down on it all afternoon one day 
 this winter. Some workman left it on the 
 switch while ago, and while you were up at the 
 barn I got two darkeys to move it for me. They 
 didn't want to at first, but I knew that there'd 
 be no train along for an hour, and told 'em so, 
 and they finally did it for a dime apiece. As 
 soon as I rescue Lloyd I'll dash down here on 
 my pony with her behind me. Then we'll slip 
 through the fence and get on the hand-car, and 
 be out of sight around the curve before the rest 
 get here. They won't know where on earth 
 we've gone, and it will be the best joke on them. 
 It's down grade all the way to the section-house, 
 so I can push it easily enough by myself, but 
 I'll need your help coming back, maybe. S'pose 
 you cut across lots to the section-house as soon 
 as I start to the barn, and meet me there. It 
 isn't half as far that way, so you'll get there 
 as soon as we do."
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL'S TWO RESCUES. 13! 
 
 " All right," said Jonesy. " I'm your kid." 
 " You should say, ' 'Tis well, Sir Knight, I 
 fly to do thy bidding,' " prompted Keith. 
 
 Jonesy grinned. He could not enter into 
 the spirit of the play as the others did. " Aw, 
 I'll be on time," he said ; then, as Keith untied 
 his pony, started on a run across the fields. 
 
 The Lady Lloyd had not finished her repast
 
 132 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 when her rescuer appeared, but she put the 
 plate down on the hay to await her return, 
 and obediently climbed down the ladder he 
 placed for her. They reached the fence before 
 the banqueters knew that she had escaped. 
 Flinging the pony's bridle over a fence-post, 
 when they reached the edge of the field, the 
 brave knight crawled through the fence and 
 pulled Lloyd after him, tearing her dress, 
 much to that dainty little lady's extreme 
 disgust. 
 
 By the time the king and his guard were 
 mounted in pursuit, on the other pony which 
 stood in waiting, the runaways were in the 
 hand-car. It moved slowly at first, although 
 Keith was strong for his age, and his hardy 
 little muscles were untiring. 
 
 " Isn't it lovely ? " cried Lloyd, as they moved 
 faster and faster and swept around the curve. 
 " I wish we could go all the way to Louisville 
 on this." The warm March wind fanned hef 
 pink cheeks, and blew her soft light hair into 
 her eyes.' 
 
 Jonesy was waiting at the section-house, and 
 waved his cap as they passed. " We're going 
 on, around the next bend," shouted Keith, as
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL'S TWO RESCUES. 133 
 
 they passed him. " Whoop-la ! this is fine, and 
 not a bit hard to work ! " 
 
 " What will the wicked queen think when 
 she can't find us ? " asked Lloyd, laughing 
 happily, as they sped on down the track. 
 
 " She'll think that I am a magician and have 
 spirited you away," said Keith. 
 
 "Then if you are a magician you ought to 
 change her into a nasty black spidah, to pay 
 her back fo' shuttin' me up with them ! " Lloyd 
 was delighted with this new play. For the 
 time it seemed as if she really were escaping 
 from a castle prison. Faster and faster they 
 went. Jonesy, who had followed them to the 
 second curve, stood watching them with wistful 
 eyes, wishing he could be with them. They 
 passed the depot, and then the hand-car seemed 
 to grow smaller and smaller as it rolled away, 
 until it was only a moving speck in the distance. 
 Then he turned and walked back to the sec- 
 tion-house. 
 
 " I s'pect we've gone about far enough," said 
 Keith, after awhile. " We'd better turn around 
 now and go back, or the picnic will all be over 
 before we get our share. Let's wait here a 
 minute till I rest rny arms, and then we'll start,"
 
 134 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 The place where they had stopped was the 
 loneliest part of the track that could be found 
 in miles, on either side. It was in the midst 
 of a thick beech woods, and the twitter of a 
 bird, now and then, was the only sound in all 
 the deep stillness. 
 
 " What lovely green moss on that bank ! " 
 cried the Little Colonel. "Wouldn't it make 
 a beautiful carpet for our playhouse down by 
 the old mill ? " 
 
 " I'll get you some," said Keith, gallantly 
 springing from the car and clambering up the 
 bank. Taking out his knife, he began to cut 
 great squares of the velvety green moss, and 
 pile it up to carry back to the hand-car. 
 
 Meanwhile Jonesy waited at the section- 
 house, digging his heels into the cinders that 
 lined the track, and looking impatiently down 
 the road. Presently the section boss came 
 limping along painfully, and sat down on the 
 bank in the warm spring sunshine. He had 
 dropped a piece of heavy machinery on his 
 foot, the week before, and was only able to 
 hobble short distances. 
 
 Everybody in the Valley was interested in 
 Jonesy since the fire and the Benefit had made
 
 THE LITTLE COLONELS TWO RESCUES. 1 35 
 
 him so well known, and the man was glad of 
 this opportunity to satisfy his curiosity about 
 the boy. Jonesy, with all the fearlessness of 
 a little street gamin brought up in a big city, 
 answered him fearlessly, even saucily at times, 
 much to the man's amusement. 
 
 " So you want to get a job around here, do 
 you ? " said the man, presently, with a grin. 
 " Maybe I can give you one. Know anything 
 about railroadin' ? " 
 
 " Heaps," answered Jonesy. " Well, I'd 
 ought to, seein' as I've lived next door to the 
 engine yards all my life, and spent my time 
 dodgin' the cop on watch there, when I was 
 tryin' to steal rides on freight-cars and such." 
 
 " Is that what you're hangin' around here 
 now for ? " asked the man, with a good-natured 
 twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 " Nope ! I'm waiting for that Maclsityre kid 
 to come back this way. He went down the 
 track a bit ago on a hand-car, playing rescue 
 a princess with one of the girls at the picnic." 
 
 The section boss sprang up with an exclama- 
 tion of alarm. " How far's he gone ? " he asked. 
 " There's a special due to pass here in a few 
 minutes."
 
 136 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 Even while he spoke there sounded far away 
 in the distance, so far that it was like only a 
 faint echo, the whistle of an approaching loco- 
 motive. The man hobbled down the track a 
 yard or so and stopped. " What do you sup- 
 pose they'll do ? " he asked. " There are so many 
 bends in this road, the train may come right 
 on to 'em before the engineer sees 'em. S'pose 
 they'll jump off, or turn and try to come 
 back ? " 
 
 Jonesy glanced around wildly a second, and 
 then sprang forward toward the man. 
 
 " Give me the switch-key ! " he cried, in a high 
 voice, shrill with excitement. " You can't run, 
 but I can. Give me the switch-key ! " Per- 
 plexed by the sudden turn of affairs and the 
 little fellow's commanding tone, the man took 
 the key from his pocket. He realised his own 
 helplessness to do anything, and there was 
 something in Jonesy 's manner that inspired con- 
 fidence. He felt that the child's quick wit had 
 grasped the situation and formed some sensible 
 plan of action. 
 
 Again the whistle sounded in the distance, 
 and, snatching the key, Jonesy was off down the 
 track like an arrow. The section boss, leaning
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL'S TWO RESCUES. 137 
 
 heavily on his cane, limped after him as fast as 
 he could. 
 
 Keith and the Little Colonel, having gathered 
 the moss and started back home, were rolling 
 leisurely along, still talking of magicians and 
 their ilk. 
 
 " What if we should meet a dragon ? " cried 
 the Little Colonel. "A dragon with a scaly 
 green tail, and red eyes and a fiery tongue. 
 What would you do then ? " 
 
 " I'd say, ' What ! Ho ! Thou monster ! ' 
 and cleave him in twain with my good broad- 
 sword, and when he saw its shining blade smite 
 through the air he'd just curl up and die." 
 
 Keith looked back to smile at the bright 
 laughing face beside him. Then he caught 
 sight of something over his shoulder that made 
 him pause. " Oh, look ! " he cried, pointing over 
 the tree-tops behind them. A little puff of 
 smoke, rising up in the distance, trailed along 
 the sky like a long banner. At the same in 
 stant, out of the smoke, sounded the whistle 
 of an approaching engine. The track behind 
 them had so many turns, he could not judge 
 of their distance from it, and for an instant he 
 stopped working the handle bar up and down,
 
 138 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 too thoroughly frightened to know what to do 
 An older child might have acted differently ; 
 might have jumped from the hand-car and left 
 it to be run into by the approaching train, or 
 have hurried back around the bend to flag the 
 engine. But Keith had only one idea left : that 
 was to keep ahead of the train as long as possi- 
 ble. It seemed so far away he thought they 
 could surely reach the depot before it caught up 
 with them, and his sturdy little arms bent to the 
 task. 
 
 For a moment there was a real pleasure in 
 the exertion. He felt with an excited thrill 
 that he was really running away with the Little 
 Colonel, and rescuing her from a pursuing dan- 
 ger. Suddenly the whistle sounded again, and 
 this time it seemed so close behind them that 
 the Little Colonel gave a terrified glance over 
 her shoulder and then screamed at the sight of 
 the great snorting monster, breathing out fire 
 and smoke, worse than any scaly-tailed dragon 
 that she had ever imagined. It was far down 
 the track but they could hear its terrible rumble 
 as it rushed over a trestle, and the singing of 
 the wires overhead. 
 
 Keith was straining every muscle now, but it
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL S TWO RESCUES. 1 39 
 
 was like running in a nightmare. His arms 
 moved up and down at a furious speed, but it 
 seemed to him that the hand-car was glued to 
 one spot. It seemed, too, that it had been 
 hours since they first discovered that the engine 
 was after them, and he felt that he would 
 soon be too exhausted to move another 
 stroke. Would the depot never never come in 
 sight ? 
 
 Just then they shot around the curve and 
 caught sight of Jonesy at the depot switch, 
 wildly beckoning with his cap and shouting for 
 them to come on. At that sight, with one 
 supreme effort Keith put his fast-failing strength 
 to the test, and sent the hand-car rolling for- 
 ward faster than ever. It shot past the switch 
 that Jonesy had unlocked and off to the side- 
 track, just as the train bore down upon them 
 around the last bend. 
 
 There was barely time for Jonesy to set the 
 switch again before it thundered on along 
 the main track past the little depot. Being a 
 special, it did not stop. As it went shrieking 
 by, the engineer cast a curious glance at a hand- 
 car on the side-track. A little girl sat on it, 
 a pretty golden-haired child with dark eyes big
 
 140 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 with fright, and her face as white as her dress. 
 He wondered what was the matter. 
 
 For a moment after the shrieking train 
 ivhizzed by everything seemed deathly still. 
 Keith sat leaning against the embankment, 
 white and limp from exhaustion and the excite- 
 ment of his close escape. Jonesy was panting 
 and wiping the perspiration from his red face, 
 for he had run like a deer to reach the switch 
 in time. 
 
 " I couldn't have held out a minute longer," 
 said Keith, presently. " My arms felt like they 
 had gone to sleep, and I was just ready to give 
 up when I caught sight of you. That seemed 
 to give me strength to go on, when I saw what 
 you were at and that it would only be a little 
 farther to go before we would be safe. How 
 did you happen to be at the switch, and know 
 how to set it ? " 
 
 " Hain't lived all my life around engine yards 
 fer nothin'," answered Jonesy. "Why didn't 
 you jump off and flag the train ? " 
 
 " I was so taken by surprise I didn't think 
 of that," answered Keith. "The only thing 1 
 knew was that we had to keep ahead of it as 
 long as possible. You've saved my life, Jones
 
 THE LITTLE COLONEL'S TWO RESCUES. 14! 
 
 Carter, and I'll never forget it, no matter what 
 comes." 
 
 " I've been rescued twice to-day," said the 
 Little Colonel, taking a deep breath as she 
 began to recover from her fright. "Jonesy 
 ought to be a knight, too." 
 
 " That's so ! " exclaimed Keith, springing to 
 his feet. " Come on and let's go back to the 
 barn. We'll tell our adventures, and then 
 we'll go through the ceremony of making Jonesy 
 a Sir Something or other. He's certainly won 
 his spurs." 
 
 " Goin' back on the hand-car ? " asked Jonesy. 
 
 " Not much," answered Keith, with a sickly 
 sort of smile. " Somehow such fast travelling 
 doesn't seem to agree with a fellow. Walking 
 is good enough for me." 
 
 " Me too ! " cried the Little Colonel, tying on 
 her white sunbonnet. " But the first part of it 
 was lovely, just like flyin'." 
 
 Jonesy ran back to give the man his key, and 
 was kept answering questions so long that he 
 did not catch up with the other children until 
 they were in sight of the barn. 
 
 " After all," said Keith, as the three trudged 
 along together, " maybe we'd better not tell
 
 142 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 how near we came to being run over. Grand- 
 mother and Aunt Allison would be dreadfully 
 worried if they should hear of it. They are 
 always worrying for fear something will happen 
 to us." 
 
 "Mothah would be wild" exclaimed the 
 Little Colonel, " if she knew I had been in any 
 dangah. Maybe she wouldn't let me out of her 
 sight again to play all summah." 
 
 " Then let's don't tell for a long, long time," 
 proposed Keith. " It'll be our secret, just for 
 us three." 
 
 " All right," the others agreed. They dropped 
 the subject then, for the barn was just ahead 
 of them, and the gay picnickers came running 
 out, demanding to know where they had been 
 so long. 
 
 The Little Colonel often spoke of her expe- 
 rience afterward to the two boys, however, and 
 in Keith's day-dreams a home for Jonesy began 
 to crowd out all other hopes and plans.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. 
 
 KEITH was stiff for a week after his race on 
 the hand-car, but did his groaning in private. 
 He knew what a commotion would be raised if 
 the matter came to his grandmother's ears. 
 She had lived all winter in constant dread of 
 accidents. Malcolm had been carried home 
 twice in an unconscious state, once from hav- 
 ing been thrown from his bicycle, and once 
 from falling through a trap-door in the barn. 
 Keith had broken through the ice on the pond, 
 sprained his wrist while coasting, and walked 
 in half a dozen times with the blood streaming 
 from some wound on his head or face. 
 
 Virginia had never been hurt, but her hair- 
 breadth escapes would have filled a volume. 
 An amusing one was the time she lassoed a 
 young calf, Indian fashion, to show the boys 
 
 M3
 
 144 Two LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 how it should be done. Its angry mother was 
 in the next lot, but Virginia felt perfectly safe 
 as she swung her lariat and dragged the bleating 
 calf around the barn-yard. She did not stop to 
 consider that if a cow with lofty ambitions had 
 once jumped over the moon, one which saw its 
 calf in danger might easily leap a low hedge. 
 Malcolm's warning shout came just in time to 
 save her from being gored by the angry animal, 
 who charged at her with lowered horns. She 
 sprang up the ladder leading to the corn-crib 
 window, where she was safe, but she had to hang 
 there until Unc' Henry could be called to the 
 rescue. 
 
 It was with many misgivings that Mrs. Mac- 
 intyre and Miss Allison started to the city one 
 morning in April. It was the first time since 
 the children's coming that they had both gone 
 away at once, and nothing but urgent business 
 would have made them consent to go. 
 
 The children promised at least a dozen things. 
 They would keep away from the barn, the live 
 stock, the railroad, the ponds, and the cisterns. 
 They would not ride their wheels, climb trees, 
 nor go off the Maclntyre premises, and they 
 would keep a sharp lookout for snakes and
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. I4/ 
 
 poison ivy, in case they went into the woods for 
 wild flowers. 
 
 " Seems to me there's migbty little left that a 
 fellow can do," said Keith, when the long list 
 was completed. 
 
 "Oh, the time will soon pass," said his grand- 
 mother, who was preparing to take the eleven 
 o'clock train. " It will soon be lunch-time. 
 Then this is the day for you each to write your 
 weekly letters to your mother, and it is so 
 pretty in the woods now that I am sure you 
 will enjoy looking for violets." 
 
 Time did pass quickly, as their grandmother 
 had said it would, until the middle of the after- 
 noon. Then Virginia began to wish for some- 
 thing more amusing than the quiet guessing 
 games they had been playing in the library. 
 The boys each picked up a book, and she 
 strolled off up-stairs, in search of a livelier 
 occupation. 
 
 In a few minutes she came down, looking like 
 a second Pocahontas in her Indian suit, with her 
 bow and arrows slung over her shoulder. 
 
 " I am going down to the woods to practise 
 shooting," she announced, as she stopped to 
 look in at the door.
 
 I4& TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 "Oh, wait just a minute!" begged Mal- 
 colm, throwing down his book. " Let's all play 
 Indian this afternoon. We'll rig up, too, and 
 build a wigwam down by the spring rock, and 
 make a fire, grandmother didn't say we 
 couldn't make a fire ; that's about the only 
 thing she forgot to tell us not to do." 
 
 ' You can come on when you get ready," 
 answered Virginia. "I'm going now, because 
 it is getting late, but you'll find me near the 
 spring when you come. Just yell." 
 
 The boys could not hope to rival Virginia's 
 Indian costume, but no wilder-looking little 
 savages ever uttered a war-whoop than the two 
 which presently dashed into the still April 
 woods. 
 
 Malcolm had ripped some variegated fringe 
 from a table-cover to pin down the sides of his 
 leather leggins. He had borrowed a Roman 
 blanket from Aunt Allison's couch to pin around 
 his shoulders, and emptied several tubes of her 
 most expensive paints to streak his face with 
 hideous stripes and daubs. A row of feathers 
 from the dust-brush was fastened around his 
 forehead by a broad band, and a hatchet from 
 the woodshed provided him with a tomahawk.
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. 149 
 
 Keith had no time to arrange feathers. He 
 had taken off his flannels in order to put on an 
 old striped bathing-suit, which he had found 
 in the attic and stored away, intending to use it 
 for swimming in the pond when the weather 
 should grow warm enough. It had no sleeves, 
 and the short trousers had shrunk until they 
 did not half-way reach his knees. Its red and 
 white stripes had faded and the colour run until 
 the whole was a dingy " crushed strawberry " 
 shade. As Malcolm had emptied all the tubes 
 of red paint in his Aunt Allison's box, Keith 
 had to content himself with some other colour. 
 He chose the different shades of green, squeez- 
 ing the paint out on his plump little legs and 
 arms, and rubbing it around with his fore finger 
 until he was encircled with as many stripes as a 
 zebra. Although the day was warm for the 
 early part of April, -the sudden change from his 
 customary clothes and spring flannels to noth- 
 ing but the airy bathing suit and war-paint 
 made him a trifle chilly ; so he completed his 
 costume by putting on a pair of scarlet bed- 
 room slippers, edged with dark fur. 
 
 With the dropping of their civilised clothing, 
 the boys seemed to have dropped all recollec-
 
 I5O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 tions of their professed knighthood, and acted 
 like the little savages they looked. 
 
 " We're going to shoot with your things 
 awhile, Ginger," shouted Keith, coming sud- 
 denly upon her with a whoop, and snatching 
 her bow out of her hands. "You are the 
 squaw, so you have to do all the work. Get 
 down there now behind that rock and make a 
 fire, while we go out and kill a deer. You 
 must build a wigwam, too, by the time we get 
 back. Hear me? I'm a big chief! 'I am 
 Famine Buckadawin ! ' and I'll make a living 
 skeleton of you if you don't hustle." 
 
 Virginia was furious. " I'll not be a squaw ! " 
 she cried. "And I'll not build a fire or do any- 
 thing else if you talk so rudely. If you don't 
 give me back my bow and let me be a chief, 
 too, I'll I'll get even with you, sir, in a way 
 you won't like I have short hair, and my 
 clothes are more Indian than yours, and I can 
 shoot better than either of you, anyhow! So 
 there ! Give me my bow." 
 
 "What will you do if I won't ?" said Keith, 
 teasmgly, holding it behind him. 
 
 " I'll go up to the barn and get a rope, and 
 lasso you like I did that calf, and drag you all
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. 
 
 I5V 
 
 over the place ! " cried Virginia, her eyes shin- 
 ing with fierce determination. 
 
 " She means it, Keith," said Malcolm. " She'll 
 do it sure, if you don't stop teasing. Oh, give 
 
 it to her and come along, or it will be dark 
 before we begin to play." 
 
 Matters went on more smoothly after Mal- 
 colm's efforts at peacemaking, and when it was
 
 152 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 decided that Ginger could be a brave, too, in- 
 stead of a squaw, they were soon playing 
 together as pleasantly as if they had found the 
 happy hunting grounds. The short afternoon 
 waned fast, and the shadows were growing deep 
 when they reached the last part of the game. 
 Ginger had been taken prisoner, and they were 
 tying her to a tree, with her hands bound 
 securely behind her back. She rather enjoyed 
 this part of it, for she intended to show them 
 how brave she could be. 
 
 " Now we'll sit around the council fire and 
 decide how to torture her," said Malcolm, when 
 the captive was securely tied. But the fire was 
 out and they had no matches. The lot fell on 
 Malcolm to run up to the house and get some. 
 
 "A fire would feel good," said Keith, looking 
 around with a shiver as he seated himself on a 
 log near Ginger. The sun was low in the west, 
 and very little of its light and warmth found its 
 way into the woods where the children were 
 playing. 
 
 " It makes me think of Hiawatha," said 
 Ginger, looking down at several long streaks of 
 golden light which lay across the ground at her 
 feet. " Don't you remember how it goes ?
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. 153 
 
 'And the long and level sunbeams shot their 
 spears into the forest, breaking through its 
 shield of shadow.' Isn't that pretty? I love 
 Hiawatha. I am going to learn pages and pages 
 of it some day. I know all that part about 
 Minnehaha now." 
 
 " Say it while we are waiting," said Keith, 
 pulling his short trousers down as far as possi- 
 ble, and wishing that he had sleeves, or else that 
 the paint were thicker on his chilly arms. 
 
 " All right," began Virginia. 
 
 " i Oh the long and dreary winter ! 
 Oh the coid and cruel winter ! 
 Ever thicker, thicker, thicker 
 Froze the ice on lake and river.' " 
 
 "Ugh! Don't!" interrupted Keith, with a 
 shiver. " It makes my teeth chatter, talking 
 about such cold things ! " 
 
 Just then a shout came ringing down the hill, 
 " Oh, Keith ! Come here a minute ! Quick ! " 
 
 " What do you wa-ant ? " yelled Keith, in 
 return. 
 
 " Come up here ! Quick ! Hurry up ! " 
 
 " What do you s'pose can be the matter ? " 
 exclaimed Keith, scrambling to his feet. 
 " Maybe the bear has got loose and run away."
 
 154 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " Come and untie me first," said Virginia, 
 " and I'll go, too." Keith gave several quick tugs 
 at the many knotted string which bound her, 
 but could not loosen it. Again the call came, 
 impatient and sharp, " Keith ! Oh, Keith ! " 
 
 "Oh, I can't loosen it a bit," said Keith. 
 ' You'll have to wait till Malcolm comes with 
 his knife. We'll be back in just a minute. I'll 
 go and see what's the matter." 
 
 ' Be sure that you don't stay ! " screamed 
 Ginger, as the scarlet bedroom slippers and 
 green striped legs flashed out of sight through 
 the bushes. 
 
 r ' Back in a minute ! " sounded shrilly 
 thn ugh the woods. 
 
 Keith found Malcolm on the back porch, 
 pour ding excitedly on a box which the express- 
 man had left there a few minutes before. 
 
 'It's the camera we have been looking for 
 all week," he cried. " Come on and have a look 
 at it, " 
 
 ' (linger said to hurry back," said Keith. 
 
 '-Pshaw! It won't take but a minute. I'll 
 pry the box open in a jiffy." 
 
 It was harder work than the boys had sup- 
 posed, to take the tightly nailed lid from its
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. 155 
 
 place, and they were so intent on their work 
 they did not realise how quickly the minutes 
 were passing. 
 
 " Isn't it a beauty ? " exclaimed Malcolm, 
 when it was at last unpacked. " It's lots bigger 
 and finer than the one papa promised. But 
 that's the way he always does. Oh, isn't it a 
 peach ! " 
 
 " I'll tell you what," said Keith, dancing up 
 and down in his excitement, until he looked like 
 a ridiculous little clown in the faded pink bath- 
 ing-suit and his stripes of green paint, "let's 
 take each other's pictures while we are dressed 
 this way. We may never look so funny again, 
 and we can go down and take Ginger, too, while 
 she is tied to the tree." 
 
 "Can't now," said Malcolm, "it's too dark 
 down there in the woods by this time. See ! 
 there is nothing left now of the sun but those 
 red clouds above the place where it went down. 
 I'm afraid it is too dark even for us up here on 
 the hill ; but we can try. You do look funny, 
 just like a jumping-jack or a monkey on a 
 stick." 
 
 " Surely Ginger won't mind waiting long 
 enough for us to do it," said Keith. " Any-
 
 156 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 how we can never dress up this way again, and 
 grandmother will be coming home very soon, so 
 you take mine quick, and I will take yours." 
 
 The boys had had some practice before with 
 a cheap little camera, but this required some 
 studying of the printed directions before they 
 could use it. The first time they tried it the 
 plates were put in wrong, and the second time 
 they forgot to remove the cap. There were 
 other things in the box besides the camera : 
 some beautiful pink curlew's wings, a hand- 
 somely marked snake skin, and some rare shells 
 that had been picked up on the Gulf coast. Of 
 course the boys had to examine each new treas- 
 ure as it was discovered. One thing after 
 another delayed them until it was dusk even 
 on the porch where they stood, and in the 
 woods below a deep twilight had fallen. 
 
 Every minute that had sped by so rapidly for 
 che boys, seemed an age to the captive Virginia. 
 Her arms ached from the strain of their un- 
 usual position. Swarms of gnats flew about, 
 stinging her face, and mosquitoes buzzed teas- 
 ingly around her ears. She was unable to 
 move a finger to drive them away. 
 
 When the boys had been gone fifteen min-
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. 157 
 
 utes she thought they must have been away 
 hours. At the end of half an hour she was 
 wild with impatience to get loose, but, thinking 
 they might return any minute, she made no 
 sign of her discomfort. She would be as 
 heroic as the bravest brave ever tortured by 
 cruel savages. As long as it was light she 
 kept up her courage, but presently it began 
 to grow dark under the great beech-trees. A 
 frog down by the spring set up a dismal croak- 
 ing. What if they should not come back, and 
 her grandmother and Aunt Allison should miss 
 the train, and have to stay in the city all night ! 
 Then nobody would come to set her free, and 
 she would have to stay in the lonely woods all 
 by herself, tied to a tree, with her hands behind 
 her back. 
 
 At that thought she began calling, "Keith! 
 Keith ! Malcolm ! Oh, Malcolm ! " but only an 
 echo came back to her, as it had to the dying 
 Minnehaha, a far-away echo that mocked her 
 with its teasing cry of " Mal-colm ! " Call after 
 call went ringing through the woods, but nobody 
 answered. Nobody came. 
 
 There was a rustling through the leaves be- 
 hind her, as of a snake gliding around the tree.
 
 158 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 She was not afraid of snakes in the daytime, 
 and when she was unbound, but she shrieked 
 and turned cold at the thought of one wriggling 
 across her feet while she was powerless to get 
 away. Every time a 
 twig snapped, or there 
 was a fluttering in the 
 bushes, she strained 
 her eyes to see what 
 horrible thing might 
 be creeping up to- 
 ward her. She had 
 no thought that live 
 Indians might be 
 lurking about, but all 
 the terrible stories 
 she had ever heard, 
 of the days of Daniel 
 Boone and the early 
 settlers, came back 
 to haunt the woods 
 with a nameless dread. 
 She felt that she was standing on the real 
 Kentucky that the Indians meant, when they 
 gave the State its name. "Dark and bloody 
 ground! Dark and bloody ground!' 1 some-
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. 159 
 
 thing seemed to say just behind her. Then 
 the trees took it up, and all the leaves whis- 
 pered, " S/i s/i, sk ! Dark and bloody ground! 
 Sk s/i!" 
 
 At that she was so frightened that she began 
 calling again, but the sound of her own voice 
 startled her. " Oh, they are not coming," she 
 thought, with a miserable ache in her throat, 
 that seemed swelling bigger and bigger. " I'll 
 have to stay here in the woods all night. Oh, 
 mamma! mamma!" she moaned, "I am so 
 scared ! If you could only come back and get 
 your poor little girl ! " 
 
 Up to this time she had bravely fought back 
 the tears, but just then a screech-owl flapped 
 down from a branch above her with such a dis- 
 mal hooting that she gave a nervous start and a 
 cry of terror. " Oh, that frightened me so ! " 
 she sobbed. " I don't believe I can stand it to 
 be out here all night alone with so many hor- 
 rible creepy things everywhere. And nobody 
 cares ! Nobody but papa and mamma, and they 
 are away, way off in Cuba. Maybe I'll never 
 see them any more." At that the tears rolled 
 down her face, and she could not move a hand 
 to wipe them away. To be so little and miser-
 
 l6O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 able and forsaken, so worn out with waiting and 
 so helpless among all these unknown horrors 
 that the dark woods might hold, was worse tor- 
 ture to the imaginative child than any bodily 
 pain could have been. 
 
 It was just as her last bit of courage oozed 
 away, and she began to cry, that the boys sud- 
 denly realised how long they had left her. 
 
 " It must be as dark as a pocket in the woods 
 by this time," exclaimed Malcolm. "What do 
 you suppose Ginger will say to us for leaving 
 her so long ? " 
 
 "You will have to take a knife to cut her 
 loose," said Keith. " I tried to untie the knots 
 before I came away, but I couldn't move them." 
 
 "My pocket-knife is up-stairs," answered 
 Malcolm. "I'll get something in the dining- 
 room that will do." 
 
 He was rushing out again with a carving-knife 
 in his hand, when he came face to face with his 
 grandmother and Aunt Allison. The boys had 
 been so interested in their camera that they had 
 not heard the train whistle, or the sound of 
 footsteps coming up on the front veranda. 
 Pete was lighting the hall lamps as the ladies 
 came in, and he turned his back to hide the broacl
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. l6l 
 
 grin on his face, as he thought of the sight 
 which would soon greet them. Mrs. Maclntyre 
 gave a gasp of astonishment and sank down in 
 the nearest chair as Malcolm came dashing 
 into the bright lamplight. 
 
 His turkey feathers were all awry, standing 
 out in a dozen different directions from his 
 head, his blanket trailed behind him, and the 
 fringe was hanging in festoons from his leggins, 
 where it had come unpinned. The red paint 
 on his face made him look as if he had been in 
 a fight with the carving-knife he carried, and 
 had had the skin peeled off his face in patches. 
 
 Wild as he looked, his appearance was tame 
 beside that of the impish-looking little savage 
 who skipped in after him, in the scarlet bedroom 
 slippers, pink striped bathing-suit and green 
 striped skin. 
 
 " Keith Maclntyre, what have you been doing 
 to yourself ? " gasped his grandmother. Both 
 boys began an excited exclamation, but were 
 stopped by Miss Allison's question, "Where 
 is Virginia ? Have you two little savages 
 scalped her ? " 
 
 " She's tied to a tree down by the spring," 
 answered Malcolm. " We are just starting
 
 1 62 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 down there now to cut her loose. You see we 
 were playing Indian, and she was tied up to be 
 tortured, and we forgot all about her being 
 there " 
 
 But Miss Allison waited to hear no more. 
 "The poor little thing ! " she exclaimed. "Tied 
 out there alone in the dark woods ! How could 
 you be so cruel ? It is enough to frighten her 
 into spasms." 
 
 "I'm awfully sorry, Aunt Allison ! " began 
 Malcolm, but his aunt was already out of hear- 
 ing. Out of the door she ran, through the 
 dewy grass and the stubble of the field beyond, 
 regardless of her dainty spring gown, or hei 
 new patent leather shoes. Malcolm and Keith 
 dashed out after her, ran on ahead and were at 
 the spring before she had climbed the fence into 
 the woodland 
 
 Virginia was not crying when the boys 
 reached her. She remembered that she had 
 once called Malcolm " Rain-in-the-face " because 
 she caught him crying over something that 
 seemed to her a very little reason, and she did 
 not intend to give him a chance to taunt her in 
 the same way. She was glad that it was too 
 dark for him to notice her tear-swollen eyes.
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. 163 
 
 "Whew! It's dark down here! " said Keith. 
 "Were you frightened, Ginger?" he asked, as 
 he helped Malcolm unfasten the cords that 
 bound her. But Ginger made no reply to either 
 questions or apologies. She walked on in dig- 
 nified silence, too deeply hurt by their neglect, 
 too full of a sense of the wrong they had done 
 her, to trust herself to speak without crying, 
 and she intended to be game to the last. But 
 when she came upon Miss Allison, and sud- 
 denly found herself folded safe in her arms, 
 with pitying kisses and comforting caresses, she 
 clung to her, sobbing as if her heart would 
 break. 
 
 " Oh, auntie ! It was so awful ! " was all she 
 could say, but she repeated it again and again, 
 until Miss Allison, who had never seen her so 
 excited before, was alarmed. The boys, who 
 had run on ahead to the house again, before she 
 gave way to her feelings, were inclined to look 
 upon it all as a good joke, for they had no 
 idea how much she had suffered, and did not 
 like it because she would not speak to them. 
 They changed their minds when Miss Allison 
 came out of Virginia's room a little later, and 
 told them that the fright had given the child
 
 104 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 a nervous chill, and that she had cried herself 
 to sleep. 
 
 " We didn't mean to do it," said Keith, peni- 
 tently. "We just forgot, and I'm mighty 
 sorry, truly I am, auntie ! " 
 
 " I am not scolding you," said Miss Allison, 
 "but if I were either of you boys, I wouldn't 
 wear my little white flower when I dressed for 
 dinner to-night. Instead of being the protector 
 of a distressed maiden, as the old knights would 
 have said, you have done her a wrong, a serious 
 one I am afraid, and that wrong ought to 
 be made right as far as possible before you 
 are worthy to wear the badge of knighthood 
 again." 
 
 "We'll go and beg her pardon right now," 
 said Malcolm. 
 
 " No, she is asleep now, and I do not want 
 her to be disturbed. Besides, a mere apology 
 is not enough. You must make some kind of 
 atonement. The first thing for you to do, how- 
 ever, is to get some turpentine and remove that 
 paint. Where did you get it, boys ? " 
 
 " Out of your paint-box, Aunt Allison," said 
 Malcolm. "We didn't think you would care. 
 I was only going to take a little, but it
 
 A GAME OF INDIAN. 165 
 
 soaked in so fast that I had to use two tubes 
 of it." 
 
 " I used more than that," confessed Keith, 
 looking at her with his big honest eyes; "but 
 I got so interested pretending that I was turning 
 into a real Indian, that I never thought about 
 its being anybody else's paint, Aunt Allison, 
 truly I didn't ! " 
 
 She turned away to hide a smile. The 
 earnest little face above the striped body was 
 so very comical. Picking up several of the 
 empty tubes that had been squeezed quite flat, 
 she read the labels. "Rose madder and car- 
 mine," she said, solemnly, "two of my very 
 most expensive paints." 
 
 " Dear me ! " sighed Malcolm, " then there's 
 another wrong that's got to be righted. I guess 
 Keith and I weren't cut out for knights. I'm 
 beginning to think that it's a mighty tough 
 business anyhow." 
 
 That night, when the boys came down to 
 dinner, no little white flower with its diamond 
 dewdrop centre shone on the lapel of either 
 coat. It had been a work of time to scrub off 
 the paint, and then it took almost as long to 
 get rid of the turpentine, so that dinner was
 
 1 66 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 ready long before Keith was finally clad in his 
 flannels. " My throat is sore," he complained 
 to Malcolm at bedtime, but did not mention it 
 to any one else that night. He sat on the side 
 of his bed a moment before undressing, with one 
 foot across his knee, staring thoughtfully at the 
 lamp. Presently, with one shoe in his hand 
 and the other half unlaced, he hopped over to 
 the dressing-table and stood before it, looking 
 at first one picture and then another. 
 
 Eight different photographs of his mother 
 were ranged along the table below the wide 
 mirror, some taken in evening dress, some in 
 simple street costume, and each one so beauti- 
 ful that it would have been hard to decide 
 which one had the greatest charm. 
 
 " I wish mamma was here to-night," said 
 Keith, softly, with a little quiver of his 
 lip. "Seems like she's been gone almost 
 always." 
 
 He picked up a large Roman locket of beaten 
 silver that lay open on the table. It held two 
 exquisitely painted miniatures on ivory. One 
 was the same sweet face that looked out at him 
 from each of the photographs, the other was 
 his father's. It showed a handsome young
 
 A GAME OP INDIAN. 167 
 
 fellow with strong, clean-shaven face, with eyes 
 like Keith's, and the same lordly poise of the 
 fine head that Malcolm had. 
 
 "Good night, papa, good night, mamma!" 
 whispered Keith, touching his lips hastily to 
 each picture while Malcolm's back was turned. 
 There were tears in his eyes. Somehow he was 
 so miserably homesick. 
 
 Next morning, although Keith's throat was 
 not so sore, he was burning with fever by the 
 time his lessons were over. Before his grand- 
 mother saw him he was off on his wheel for a 
 long ride, and then, because he was so hot when 
 he came back, he slipped away to the pond with 
 the pink bathing-suit under his coat, and took 
 the swim that he had been looking forward to 
 so long. Nobody knew where he was, and he 
 stayed in the water until his lips and finger- 
 nails were blue. The morning after that he 
 was too ill to get up, and Mrs. Maclntyre sent 
 for a doctor. 
 
 " He has always been so perfectly well, and 
 seemed to have such a strong constitution, that 
 I cannot allow myself to believe this will be 
 anything serious," said Mrs. Maclntyre, but at 
 the end of the third day he was so much worse
 
 168 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 that she sent to the city for a trained nurse, 
 and telegraphed for his father and mother. 
 
 They had already left Florida, and were 
 yachting up the Atlantic coast on their way 
 home when the message reached them.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " FAIRCHANCE." 
 
 MALCOLM did his best to atone to Virginia 
 for what she had suffered from the forgetful- 
 ness of the two little Indians, but poor Keith 
 was too ill to remember anything about it. He 
 did not know his father and mother when they 
 came, and tossed restlessly about, talking wildly 
 of things they could not understand. It was 
 the first time he had ever been so ill, and as 
 they watched him lying there day after day, 
 burning with fever, and growing white and thin, 
 a great fear came upon them that he would 
 never be any better. 
 
 No one put that fear into words, but little 
 by little it crept from heart to heart like a 
 wintry fog, until the whole house felt its chill. 
 The sweet spring sounds and odours came rush- 
 ing in at every window from the sunny world 
 outside, but it might as well have been mid- 
 169
 
 I/O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 winter. No one paid any heed while that little 
 life hung in the balance. The servants went 
 through the house on tiptoe. Malcolm and 
 Virginia haunted the halls to discover from the 
 grave faces of the older people what they were 
 afraid to ask, and Mrs. Maclntyre was kept 
 busy answering the inquiries of the neighbours. 
 Scarcely an hour passed that some one did not 
 come to ask about Keith, to leave flowers, or 
 to proffer kindly services. Everybody who knew 
 the little fellow loved him. His bright smile 
 and winning manner had made him a host of 
 friends. 
 
 There was no lack of attention. His father 
 and mother, Miss Allison, and the nurse watched 
 every breath, every pulse-beat ; and a dozen 
 times in the night his grandmother stole to the 
 door to look anxiously at the wan little face on 
 the pillow. 
 
 " It is so strange," said his mother to the 
 nurse one day. " He keeps talking about a 
 white flower. He says that he can't right the 
 wrong unless he wears it, and that Jonesy will 
 have to be shut up and never find his brother 
 again. What do you suppose he means? " 
 
 The nurse shook her head. She did not know
 
 "FAIRCHANCE. I/I 
 
 Just then Mrs. Maclntyre heard her name 
 called softly, " Elise," and her husband beck- 
 oned her to come out into the hall. " I want 
 to show you something in Allison's room," he 
 said, leading her down the hall to his sister's 
 apartment. On each side of the low writing- 
 desk stood a large photograph, one of Malcolm 
 in his suit of mail, the other of Keith in the 
 costume of jewel-embroidered velvet, like the 
 little Duke of Gloster's. 
 
 " Oh, Sydney ! How beautiful ! " she ex- 
 claimed, as she swept across the room and 
 knelt down before the desk for a better view. 
 Leaning her arms on the desk, she looked into 
 Keith's pictured face with hungry eyes. " Isn't 
 he lovely ? " she repeated. " Oh, he'll never 
 look like that again ! I know it ! I know it ! " 
 she sobbed, remembering how white was the 
 little face on the pillow that she had just left. 
 
 Mr. Maclntyre bent over her, his own hand- 
 some face white and haggard. He looked ill 
 himself, from the constant watching and anxiety. 
 " I'd give anything in the world that I own ! 
 Everything!" he groaned. "I'd do anything, 
 sacrifice anything, to see him as well and sturdy 
 as he looks there ! "
 
 1/2 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 Then he caught up the picture. " What's 
 this written underneath ? " he asked, " It is in 
 Keith's own handwriting : ' Live pure, speak 
 
 tmth, right the wrong, follow the king. Else 
 wherefore born f ' 
 
 "What does it mean, Allison?" he asked,
 
 "FAtRCHANCE. 1/3 
 
 turning to his sister, who was resting on a 
 couch by the window. " It is written under 
 Malcolm's picture, too." 
 
 "The dear little Sir Galahads," she said, 
 "I sent for you to tell you about them. The 
 boys intended the pictures as a surprise for you 
 and Elise, so we never sent them. They 
 wanted to tell you themselves about the Benefit 
 and the little waif they gave it for." 
 
 She took a little pin from a jewel-case under 
 the sofa pillows, and reaching over, dropped it 
 in her brother's hand. It was a tiny flower of 
 white enamel, with a diamond dewdrop in the 
 centre. 
 
 "You may have noticed Malcolm wearing 
 one like it," she said, and then she told them 
 the story of Jonesy and the bear and all that 
 their coming had led to : the Benefit, the new 
 order of knighthood, and the awakening of the 
 boys to a noble purpose. 
 
 " The boys fully expect you to stand by them 
 in all this, Sydney," she said, in conclusion, 
 " and play fairy godfather for Jonesy henceforth 
 and for ever. One night, when Keith came up 
 to confess some mischief he had been into 
 during the day, he said :
 
 1/4 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 " ' Aunt Allison, this wearing the white 
 flower of a blameless life isn't as easy as it 
 is cracked up to be; but having this little 
 pin helps a lot. I just put my hand on that 
 like the real knights used to do on their sword- 
 hilts, and repeat my motto. It will be easier 
 when papa comes home. Since I've known 
 Jonesy, and heard him tell about the hard times 
 some people have that he knows, it seems to 
 me there's an awful lot of wrong in the world 
 for somebody to set right. Some nights I can 
 hardly go to sleep for thinking about it, and 
 wishing that I were grown up so that I could 
 begin to do my part I wish papa could be 
 here now. He'd make a splendid knight ; he 
 is so big and good and handsome. I don't 
 s'pose King Arthur himself was any better or 
 braver than my father is.'" 
 
 A tear splashed down from the mother's eyes 
 as she listened, and, falling on the tiny white 
 flower as it lay in her husband's hand, glistened 
 beside the dewdrop centre like anothei diamond. 
 
 " Oh, Sydney ! " she exclaimed, in a heart- 
 broken way. Something very like a sob shook 
 the man's broad shoulders, and, turning abruptly, 
 he strode out of the room.
 
 "FAIRCHANCE." 1/5 
 
 Down in the dim, green library, where the 
 blinds had been drawn to keep it cool, he threw 
 himself into a chair beside the table. Prop- 
 ping Keith's picture up in front of him against 
 a pile of books, he leaned forward, gazing at 
 it earnestly. He had never realised before 
 how much he loved the little son, who hour 
 by hour seemed slowly slipping farther away 
 from him. The pictured face looked full into 
 his as if it would speak. It wore the same 
 sweet, trustful expression that had shone there 
 the night he talked to Jonesy of the Hall of 
 the Shields ; the same childish purity that had 
 moved the old professor to lay his hands upon 
 his head and call him Galahad. 
 
 All that gentle birth, college breeding, wealth, 
 and travel could give a man, were Sydney 
 Maclntyre's, and yet, measuring himself by 
 Keith's standard of knighthood, he felt him- 
 self sadly lacking. He had given liberally to 
 charities hundreds of dollars, because it was 
 often easier for him to write out a check than 
 to listen to somebody's tale of suffering. But 
 aside from that he had left the old world to 
 wag on as best it could, with its grievous load 
 of wrong and sorrow.
 
 1/6 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 A man is not apt to trouble himself as to 
 how it wags for those outside his circle of 
 friends, when the generations before him have 
 spent their time laying up a fortune for him 
 to enjoy. But this man was beginning to 
 trouble himself about it now, as he paced rest- 
 lessly up and down the room. He was not 
 thinking now about the things that usually 
 occupied him, his social duties, his home or 
 club, or yacht or horses or kennels. He was 
 not planning some new pleasure for his friends 
 or family, he was wondering what he could do 
 to be worthy of the exalted regard in which he 
 was held by his little sons. What wrong could 
 he set right, to prove himself really as noble as 
 they thought him ? He was their ideal of all 
 that was generous and manly, and yet 
 
 " What have I ever done," he asked himself, 
 "to make them think so? If I were to be 
 taken out of the world to-morrow, I would 
 be leaving it exactly as I found it. Who could 
 point to my coffin and say, ' Laws are better, 
 politics are purer, or times are not so hard for 
 the masses now, because this one man willed to 
 lift up his fellows as far as the might of one 
 strong life can reach ? ' But they will say that
 
 "FAIRCHANCE. 1/7 
 
 of Malcolm, and Keith, if he lives ah, if he 
 lives ! " 
 
 An hour later the door opened, and Malcolm 
 came in, softly. " Keith is asking for you, 
 papa," he said, with a timid glance into his 
 father's haggard face. Then he came nearer, 
 and slipped his hand into the man's strong 
 fingers, and together they went up the stairs 
 to answer the summons. 
 
 " Did you want me, Keith ? " 
 
 The head did not turn on the pillow. The 
 languid eyes opened only half-way, but there 
 was recognition in them now, and one little 
 hand was raised to lay itself lovingly against 
 his father's cheek. 
 
 "What is it, son?" 
 
 The weak little voice tried to answer, but the 
 words came only in gasps. " Brother knows 
 about Jonesy keep him from being a tramp ! 
 Please let me, papa do that much good 
 in my life " else wherefore born ? ' " 
 
 " What is it, Keith ? " asked his father, bend- 
 ing over him. " Papa doesn't exactly under- 
 stand. But you can have anything you want, 
 my boy. Anything ! I'll do whatever you 
 ask."
 
 1/8 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY 
 
 " Malcolm knows," was the answer. Then 
 the voice seemed somewhat stronger for an 
 instant, and a faint smile touched Keith's lips. 
 " Give my half of the bear to Ginger. Now 
 may I have my white flower ? " 
 
 Throwing back his coat, his father unpinned 
 the little badge from his vest, where he had 
 fastened it for safe-keeping a short time before 
 in the library. A pleased expression flitted 
 over the child's face, as he saw where it had 
 been resting, and when it was fastened in the 
 front of his little embroidered nightshirt, his 
 hand closed over the pin as if it were something 
 very precious, and he were afraid of losing it 
 again. 
 
 "Wearing the white flower," they heard him 
 whisper, and then the little knight slept. 
 
 It was hours afterward when he roused again, 
 hours when the faintest noise had not been 
 allowed in the house ; when the servants had 
 been sent to the cottage, and Unc' Henry sta- 
 tioned at the front gate, that no one might drive 
 up the avenue. 
 
 Virginia, in a hammock on the veranda, 
 Scarcely dared draw a deep breath till she
 
 "FAIRCHANCE. 1/9 
 
 heard the doctor coming down the stairs, just 
 before dark. Then she knew by his face that 
 prayers and skill and tender nursing had not 
 been in vain, and that Keith would live. 
 
 So much can happen in a week. In the 
 seven days that followed Keith gradually grew 
 strong enough to be propped up in bed a little 
 while at a time ; Captain Dudley and his wife 
 came home from Cuba, and Mr. Maclntyre 
 began to carry out the promise he had made 
 to Keith that day when they feared most he 
 could not live. 
 
 The whole Valley rejoiced in the first and 
 second happenings, and were too much occu- 
 pied in them to notice the third. Carriages 
 rolled in and out of the great entrance gate 
 all day long, for Mrs. Dudley had always been 
 a favourite with the old neighbours, and they 
 gave a warm welcome to her and her gallant 
 husband. Virginia followed her father and 
 mother about like a loving shadow, and Keith 
 was so interested in the wonderful stories they 
 told of their Cuban experiences that he never 
 noticed how much his father and Malcolm were 
 away from home. Sometimes they would be
 
 l8O TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 gone all day together, consulting with the 
 old professor, overseeing carpenters, or mak- 
 ing hasty trips to the city. Jonesy's home, 
 that had been so long only a beautiful air- 
 castle, was rapidly taking shape in wood and 
 stone, and the painters would soon be at work 
 on it. 
 
 Mr. Maclntyre had never been more surprised 
 than he was when Malcolm unfolded their plan 
 to him. It did not seem possible that two chil- 
 dren could have thought of it all, and arranged 
 every detail without the help of some older 
 head. 
 
 " It just grew," said Malcolm, in explanation. 
 " First Keith said how lovely it would have been 
 if we had made enough money at the Benefit to 
 have bought a home for Jonesy in the country, 
 where he could have a fair chance to grow up 
 a good man. Just a comfortable little cottage 
 with a garden, where he could be out-of-doors 
 all the time, instead of in the dirty city streets ; 
 then nobody could call him a 'child of the 
 slums ' any more. Then we said it would be 
 better if there were some fields back of the 
 garden, so that he could learn to be a farmer 
 when he was older, and have some way to make
 
 
 "FAIRCHANCE." l8l 
 
 a living. We talked about it every night when 
 we went to bed, and kept putting a little more 
 and a little more to it, until it was as real to 
 us as if we had truly seen such a place. There 
 were vines on the porches, and a big Newfound- 
 land dog on the front steps, and a cow and calf 
 in the pasture, and a gentle old horse that could 
 plough and that Jonesy could ride to water. 
 
 "We told Ginger, and she thought of a lot 
 more things ; some little speckled pigs in a pen, 
 and kittens in the hay-mow, and ducks on the 
 pond, and an orchard, and roses in the yard. 
 She said we ought to call the place " Fair- 
 chance," because that's what it would mean for 
 Jonesy and Barney (you know we would send 
 for Barney first thing we did, of course), and it 
 was Ginger who first thought of getting some 
 nice man and his wife to take care of the boys. 
 She said there are plenty of people who would 
 be glad to do it, just for the sake of having 
 such a good home. Ginger said if we could do 
 all that, and keep Jonesy and his brother from 
 growing up to be tramps like the man we 
 bought the bear from, it would be serving our 
 country just as much as if we went to war and 
 fought for it. Ginger is a crank about being a
 
 1 82 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 patriot. You ought to hear her talk about it. 
 And Aunt Allison said that ' an ounce of pre- 
 vention is worth a pound of cure,' and that to 
 build such a place as our ' Fairchance ' would be 
 a deed worthy of any true knight." 
 
 " How are you expecting to bring this won- 
 derful thing to pass ? " asked his father, as 
 Malcolm stopped to take breath. "Do you 
 expect to wave a wand and see it spring u\ 
 out of the earth?" 
 
 " Of course not, papa ! " said Malcolm, a little 
 provoked by his father's teasing smile. " We 
 were going to ask you to let us take the money 
 that grandfather left us in his will. We won't 
 need it when we are grown, for we can earn 
 plenty ourselves then, and it seems too bad to 
 have it laid away doing nobody any good, when 
 we need it so much now to right this wrong of 
 Jonesy's." 
 
 " But it is not laid away," answered Mr. Mac- 
 Intyre. " It is invested in such a way that it 
 is earning you more money every year ; and 
 more than that, it was left in trust for you, so 
 that it cannot be touched until you are twenty- 
 one." 
 
 " Oh, papa ! " cried Malcolm, bitterly disap-
 
 "FAIRCHANCE." 183 
 
 pointed. He had hard work to keep back the 
 tears for a moment ; then a happy thought 
 made his face brighten. "You could lend us 
 the money, and we would pay you back when 
 we are of age. You know you promised Keith 
 you would do anything he wanted, and that is 
 what he was trying to ask for ? " 
 
 Mr. Maclntyre put his arm around the ear- 
 nest little fellow, and drew him to his knee, smil- 
 ing down into the upturned face that waited 
 eagerly for his answer. 
 
 " I only asked that to hear what you would 
 say, my son," was the answer. "You need 
 have no worry about the money. I'll keep my 
 promise to Keith, and Jonesy shall have his 
 home. I'm not a knight, but I'm proud to 
 be the father of two such valiant champions. 
 Please God, you'll not be alone in your battles 
 after this, to right the world's wrongs. I'll be 
 your faithful squire, or, as we'd say in these 
 days, a sort of silent partner in the enterprise." 
 
 Several days after this a deed was recorded 
 in the county court-house, conveying a large 
 piece of property from old Colonel Lloyd to 
 Malcolm and Keith Maclntyre. It was the 
 place adjoining "The Locusts," on which stood
 
 '84 TW LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 a fine old homestead that had been vacant for 
 several years. The day after its purchase a 
 force of carpenters and painters were set to 
 work, and two coloured men began clearing 
 out the tangle of bushes in the long-neglected 
 garden. 
 
 Jonesy know nothing of what was going on, 
 and wondered at the long conversations which 
 took place between the old professor and Mr. 
 Maclntyre, always in German. It was the pro- 
 fessor who found some one to take care of the 
 home, as Virginia had suggested. He recom- 
 mended a countryman of his, Carl Sudsberger, 
 who had long been a teacher like himself. He 
 was a gentle old soul who loved children and 
 understood them, and a more motherly crea- 
 ture than his wife could not well be imagined. 
 Everything throve under her thrifty manage- 
 ment, and she had no patience with laziness or 
 waste. Any boy in whose bringing up she had 
 a hand would be able to make his way in the 
 world when the time came for it. 
 
 Mrs. Dudley and Miss Allison helped choose 
 the furnishings, but Virginia felt that the pleas- 
 ure of it w'js all hers, for she was taken to the 
 city every time they went, and allowed a voice
 
 "FAIRCHANCE." 185 
 
 in everything. Several trips were necessary 
 before the house was complete, but by the last 
 week in May it was ready from attic to cellar. 
 
 It was the " Fairchance " that the boys had 
 planned so long, with its rose-bordered paths, 
 the orchard and garden and outlying fields. 
 Nothing had been forgotten, from the big New- 
 foundland dog on the doorstep, to the ducks on 
 the pond, and the little speckled pigs in the pen. 
 The day that Keith was able to walk down- 
 stairs for the first time, Mr. Maclntyre went to 
 Chicago, taking Jonesy with him, to find 
 Barney and bring him back. He was gone 
 several days, and when he returned there were 
 three boys with him instead of two : Jonesy, 
 Barney, and a little fellow about five years old, 
 still in dresses. 
 
 Malcolm met them at the train, and eyed the 
 small newcomer with curiosity. " It is a little 
 chap that Barney had taken under his wing," 
 explained Mr. Maclntyre. " Its mother was 
 dead, and I found it was entirely dependent 
 on Barney for support. They slept together in 
 the same cellar, and shared whatever he hap- 
 pened to earn, just as Jonesy did. I hadn't the 
 heart to leave him behind, although I didn't
 
 1 86 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 relish the idea of travelling with such a kinder- 
 garten. Would you believe it, Dodds (that's 
 the little fellow's name) never saw a tree in his 
 
 life until yesterday ? He had never been out of 
 the slums where he was born, not even to the 
 avenues of the city where he could have seen 
 them. It was too far for him to walk alone, and 
 street-cars were out of the question for him, as
 
 "FAIRCHANCE." 1 8? 
 
 much out of reach of his empty pockets as the 
 moon." 
 
 " Never saw a tree ! " echoed Malcolm, with 
 a thrill of horror in his voice that a life could 
 be so bare in its knowledge of beauty. " Oh, 
 papa, how much ' Fairchance ' will mean to him, 
 then ! Oh, I'm so glad, and Keith why, 
 Keith will want to stand on his head ! " 
 
 They drove directly to the new place. It 
 was late in the afternoon, and the sunshine 
 threw long, waving shadows across the yard. 
 Mrs. Sudsberger sat on the front porch knit- 
 ting. A warm breeze blowing in from the 
 garden stirred the white window curtains be- 
 hind her with soft flutterings. The coloured 
 woman in the kitchen was singing as she 
 moved around preparing supper, and her voice 
 floated cheerily around the corner of the 
 house : 
 
 " Swing low, sweet chariot, comin' fer to carry me 
 
 home, 
 
 Swing low, sweet char-i-0/, comin' fer to carry me 
 home ! " 
 
 A Jersey cow lowed at the pasture bars, and 
 from away over in the woodland came the
 
 1 88 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 cooing of a dove. Three little waifs had found 
 a home. 
 
 Mr. Maclntyre looked from the commonplace 
 countenances of the boys climbing out of the 
 carriage to Malcolm's noble face. " It is a 
 doubtful experiment," he said to himself. 
 " They may never amount to anything, but 
 at least they shall have a chance to see what 
 clean, honest, country living can do for them." 
 And then there swept across his heart, with a 
 warm, generous rush, the impulse to do as 
 much for every other unfortunate child he 
 could reach, whose only heritage is the pov- 
 erty and crime of city slums. He had seen 
 so much in that one short visit. The misery 
 of it haunted him, and it was with a happiness 
 as boyish and keen as Malcolm's that he led 
 these children he had rescued into the home 
 that was to be theirs henceforth. 
 
 Keith did not see " Fairchance " until Memo- 
 rial Day. Then they took him over in the car- 
 riage in the afternoon, and showed him every 
 nook and corner of the place. There were six 
 boys there now, for room had been made for two 
 little fellows from Louisville, whom Mr. Macln- 
 tyre had found at the Newsboys' Home. " I've
 
 "FAIRCHANCE." 189 
 
 no doubt but that there'll always be more com- 
 ing," he said to Mr. Sudsberger, with a smile, as 
 he led them in. " When you once let a little 
 water trickle through the dyke, the whole sea is 
 apt to come pouring in." 
 
 " Happy the heart that is swept with such 
 high tides," answered the old German. " It is 
 left the richer by such floods." 
 
 Several families in the Valley were invited tc 
 come late in the afternoon to a flag-raising. 
 The great silk flag was Virginia's gift, and 
 Captain Dudley made the presentation speech. 
 He wore his uniform in honour of the occasion. 
 This was a part of what he said : 
 
 " This Memorial Day, throughout this wide- 
 spread land of ours, over every mound that 
 marks a soldier's dust, some hand is stretched 
 to drop a flower in tender tribute. Over her 
 heroic dead a grateful country wreathes the red 
 of her roses, the white of her lilies, and the 
 blue of her forget-me-nots, repeating even in 
 the sweet syllables of the flowers the symbol of 
 her patriotism, the red, white, and blue of her 
 war-stained banner. 
 
 " My friends, I have followed the old flag into 
 more than one battle. I have seen men charge
 
 190 fwo LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 after it through blinding smoke and hail ot 
 bullets, and I have seen them die for it. No 
 one feels more deeply than I what a glorious 
 thing it is to die for one's country, but I want 
 to say to these little lads looking up at this 
 great flag fluttering over us, that it is not half 
 so noble, half so brave, as to live for it, to give 
 yourselves in untiring, every-day living to your 
 country's good. To 'let all the ends thou 
 aim'st at be thy country's, thy God's, and 
 truth's.' I would rather have that said of me, 
 that I did that, than to be the greatest general 
 of my day. I would rather be the founder of 
 homes like this one than to manoeuvre success- 
 fully the greatest battles. 
 
 " May the ' Two Little Knights of Kentucky ' 
 go on, out through the land, carrying their 
 motto with them, until the last wrong is righted, 
 and wherever the old flag floats a ' fair chance ' 
 may be found for every one that lives beneath 
 it. And may these Stars and Stripes, as they 
 rise and fall on the winds of this peaceful 
 valley, whisper continuously that same motto, 
 until its lessons of truth and purity and unself- 
 ish service have been blazoned on the hearts of 
 every boy who calls this home. May it help
 
 "FAIRCHANCE." 191 
 
 to make him a true knight in his country's 
 cause." 
 
 There was music after that, and then old 
 Colonel Lloyd made a speech, and Virginia and 
 the Little Colonel gathered roses out of the old 
 garden, so that every one could wear a bunch. 
 A little later they had supper on the lawn, 
 picnic fashion, and then drove home in the cool 
 of the evening, when all the meadows were full 
 of soft flashings from the fairy torches of a 
 million fireflies. 
 
 With Keith safely covered up in a hammock, 
 they lingered on the porch long after the stars 
 came out, and the dew lay heavy on the roses. 
 They were building other air-castles now, to be 
 rebuilt some day, as Jonesy's home had been ; 
 only these were still larger and better. The 
 older people were planning, too, and all the 
 good that grew out of that quiet evening talk 
 can never be known until that day comes when 
 the King shall read all the names in his Hall 
 of the Shields. 
 
 " It has been such a beautiful day," said 
 Virginia, leaning her head happily against her 
 mother's shoulder. Then she started up, sud- 
 denly remembering something. " Oh, papa ! "
 
 I Q2 TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 she cried, " let's end it as they do at the fort, 
 with the bugle-call. I'll run and get my old 
 bugle, and you play 'taps.'" 
 
 A few minutes later the silvery notes went 
 floating out on the warm night air, through all 
 the peaceful valley ; over the mounds in the 
 little churchyard, wreathed now with their 
 fresh memorial roses ; past " The Locusts " 
 where the Little Colonel lay a-dreaming. Over 
 the woods and fields they floated, until they 
 reached the flag that kept its fluttering vigil 
 over " Fairchance." 
 
 Jonesy sat up in bed to listen. Many a 
 reveille would sound before his full awakening 
 to all that the two little knights had made 
 possible for him, but the sweet, dim dream of 
 the future that stole into his grateful little 
 heart was an earnest of what was in store for 
 him. Then the bugle-call, falling through the 
 starlight like a benediction, closed the happy 
 day with its peaceful " Good night." 
 
 THE END.
 
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