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 A PICTURE FROM LIFE, 
 

LITTLE STTNSHINE. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S 
 HOLIDAY: 
 
 A PICTURE FROM LIFE. 
 
 BY THE V 
 
 ^AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN." 
 
 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S FRIENDS. 
 
 {From a Photograph. ) 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 
 •187 i. 
 
BY THE AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX." 
 
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ISeTifcatetr 
 
 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S LITTLE FRIENDS. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 Chapter 1 15 
 
 Chapter II 32 
 
 Chapter III 49 
 
 Chapter IV 66 
 
 Chapter V 79 
 
 Chapter VI 98 
 
 Chapter VII 113 
 
 Chapter VIII 130 
 
 Chapter IX.... , 151 
 
 Chapter X 172 
 
 Chapter XI 191 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Little Sunshine Frontispiece. 
 
 Little Sunshine's Friends {from a ) 
 
 p Title-page. 
 
 Photograph) ) 
 
 "That's Mamma's Pear!" said She .faces p. 25 
 
 Sunny's Mamma Telling Stories " 141 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S 
 HOLIDAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 WHILE writing this title, I paused, con- 
 sidering whether the little girl to whom 
 it refers would not say of it, as she sometimes 
 does of other things, " You make a mistake." 
 For she is such a very accurate little person. 
 She can not bear the slightest alteration of a 
 fact. In herself, and in other people she must 
 have the truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
 but the truth. For instance, one day, over- 
 hearing her mamma say, "I had my shawl with 
 me," she whispered, " No, mamma, not your 
 shawl ; it was your water-proof." 
 
 Therefore, I am sure she would wish me to 
 explain at once that " Little Sunshine " is not 
 her real name, but a pet name, given because 
 she is such a sunshiny child ; and that her 
 " holiday " was not so much hers — seeing she 
 
16 LITTLE SUNSHINE ' S HOLIDA T. 
 
 was then not three years old, and every day 
 was a holiday — as her papa's and mamma's, 
 who are very busy people, and who took her 
 with them on one of their rare absences from 
 home. They felt they could not do with- 
 out her merry laugh, her little pattering feet, 
 and her pretty curls — even for a month. And 
 so she got a "holiday" too; though it was 
 quite unearned : as she has never been to 
 school, and her education has gone no farther 
 than a crooked S, a round (9, an M for mam- 
 ma, and a D for — but this is telling. 
 
 Of course Little Sunshine has a Christian 
 name and surname, like other little girls, but I 
 do not choose to give them. She has neither 
 brother nor sister, and says " she doesn't want 
 any — she had rather play with papa and mam- 
 ma." She is not exactly a pretty child, but 
 she has very pretty yellow curls, and is rather 
 proud of " my curls." She has only lately be- 
 gun to say "I" and "my," generally speaking 
 of herself, baby -fashion, in the third person — 
 as " Sunny likes that," " Sunny did so-and-so," 
 etc. She always tells every thing she has done 
 and every thing she is going to do. If she 
 has come to any trouble — broken a tea-cup, for 
 instance — and her mamma says, " Oh, I am so 
 sorry ! Who did that ?" Little Sunshine will 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S L^OLIL AT. 17 
 
 creep up, hanging her head and blushing, 
 " Sunny did it ; she won't ever do it again." 
 But the idea of denying it would never come 
 into her little head. Every body has always 
 told the exact truth to her, and so she tells the 
 truth to every body, and has no notion of there 
 being such a thing as falsehood in the world. 
 
 Still, this little girl is not a perfect character. 
 She sometimes flies into a passion, and says "I 
 won't" in a very silly way — it is always so sil- 
 ly to be naughty. And sometimes she feels 
 thoroughly naughty — as we all do occasional- 
 ly — and then she says, of her own accord, 
 " Mamma, Sunny had better go into the cup- 
 board" (her mamma's dressing-closet). There 
 she stays, with the door close shut, for a little 
 while ; and then comes out again smiling, 
 " Sunny is quite good now." She kisses mam- 
 ma, and is all right. This is the only punish- 
 ment she has ever had — or needed, for she nev- 
 er sulks, or does any thing underhand or mean 
 or mischievous ; and her wildest storm of pas- 
 sion only lasts a few minutes. To see mamma 
 looking sad and grave, or hear her say, "T am so 
 sorry that my little girl is naughty," will make 
 the child, good again immediately. 
 
 So you have a faint idea o'f the little person 
 who was to be taken on this "Ions: holidav ; first 
 B 
 
18 LITTLE SUNSHINE ' S HOLIDA Y. 
 
 in a " puff-puff," then in a boat — which was to 
 her a most remarkable thing, as she lives in a 
 riverless county, and, except once crossing the 
 Thames, had scarcely ever beheld water. Her 
 mamma had told her, however, of all the won- 
 derful things she was to see on her holiday, 
 and for a week or two past she had been say- 
 ing to every visitor that came to the house, 
 " Sunny is going to Scotland. Sunny is going 
 in a puff-puff to Scotland. And papa will take 
 her in a boat, and she will catch a big salmon. 
 Would you like.to see Sunny catch a big sal- 
 mon?" For it is the little girl's firm convic- 
 tion that to see Sunny doing any thing must be 
 the greatest possible pleasure to those about 
 her — as perhaps it is. 
 
 Well, the important day arrived. Her mam- 
 ma was very busy, Little Sunshine helping her 
 — to "help mamma" being always her grand 
 idea. The amount of work she did, in carry- 
 ing her mamma's clothes from the drawers to 
 the portmanteau, and carrying them back 
 again ; watching her dresses being folded and 
 laid in the trunk, then jumping in after them, 
 smoothing and patting them down, and, lastly, 
 sitting upon them, can not be told. Every now 
 and then she looked up, " Mamma, isn't Sunny 
 a busy girl ?" — which could not be denied. 
 
LITTLE S UNSHINE ' S HOLIDA Y. 19 
 
 The packing-up was such a great amuse- 
 ment — to herself, at least — that it was with dif- 
 ficulty she could be torn from it, even to get 
 her dinner, and be dressed for her journey, part 
 of which was to take place that day. At last 
 she was got ready, a good while before any 
 body else, and then she stood and looked at 
 herself from head to foot in a large mirror, and 
 was very much interested in the sight. Her 
 travelling-dress was a gray water-proof cloak, 
 with a hood and pockets, where she could carry 
 all sorts of things — her gloves, a biscuit, the 
 head of her dolly (its body had come off), and 
 two or three pebbles, which she daily picked 
 up in the garden, and kept to wash in her bath 
 night and morning, " to make them clean," for 
 she has an extraordinary delight in things be- 
 ing " quite clean." She had on a pair of new 
 boots — buttoned boots, the first she ever had — 
 and she was exceedingly proud of them, as well 
 as of her gray felt hat, underneath which was 
 the usual mass of curly yellow hair. She 
 shook it from side to side like a little lion's 
 mane, calling out, " Mamma, look at Sunny's 
 curls ! Such a lot of curls !" 
 
 When the carriage came to the door, she 
 watched the luggage being put in very gravely. 
 Then all the servants came to say good-bye to 
 
20 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 her. They were very kind servants, and 
 very fond of Little Sunshine. Even the gar- 
 dener and his wife looked quite sorry to part 
 with her, but in her excitement and delight the 
 little lady of course did not mind it at all. 
 
 "Good-bye! good-bye! I'm going to Scot- 
 land," she kept saying, and kissing her hand. 
 "Sunny's going to Scotland in a puff-puff. 
 But she'll come back again, she will." 
 
 After which kind promise, meant to cheer 
 them up a little, she insisted on jumping into 
 the carriage " all by her own self," — she dearly 
 likes doing anything "all my own self" — and, 
 kissing her hand once more, was driven away 
 with her mamma and her nurse (whose name 
 is Lizzie) to meet her papa in London. 
 
 Having been several times in a " puff-puff," 
 and once in London, she was not a bit fright- 
 ened at the streets or the crowd. Only in the 
 confusion at Euston Square she held very tight 
 to her mamma's hand, and at last whispered, 
 " Mamma, take her ! up in you arms, up in you 
 own arms !" — her phrase when she was almost 
 a baby. And though she is now a big girl, 
 who can walk, and even run, she clung tightly 
 to her mamma's neck, and would not be set 
 down again until transferred to her papa, and 
 taken by him to look at the engine. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 21 
 
 Papa and his little girl are both very fond 
 of engines. This was such a large one, newly 
 painted, with its metal- work so clean and shiny, 
 that it was quite a picture. Though some- 
 times it gave a snort, and a puff, like a live 
 creature, Sunny was not afraid of it, but sat 
 in he.r papa's arms watching it, and then walk- 
 ed gravely up and down with him, 'holding his 
 hand, and making all sorts of remarks on the 
 things she saw, which amused him exceeding- 
 ly. She also informed him of what she was 
 going to do — how she should jump into the 
 puff-puff, and then jump out again, and sleep in 
 a cottage, in a quite new bed, where Sunny had 
 never slept before. She chattered so fast, and 
 was so delighted at everything about her, that 
 the time went rapidly by*; and her papa, who 
 could not come to Scotland for a week yet, 
 was obliged to leave her. When he kissed 
 her, poor Little Sunshine set up a great cry. 
 
 "I don't want you to go 'away. Papa! 
 papa !" Then bursting in to one of her pathet- 
 ic little furies, " I won't let papa go away ! I 
 won't!" 
 
 She clung to him so desperately that her lit- 
 tle arms had fairly to be untied from round his 
 neck, and it was at least two minutes and a 
 half before she could be comforted. 
 
22 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 But when the train began to move, and the 
 carriageful of people to settle down for the 
 journey, Sunny recovered herself, and grew 
 interested in watching them. They were all 
 gentlemen, and as each came in, mamma had 
 suggested that if he objected to a child, he had 
 better choose another carriage ; but nobody did. 
 One — who 'looked like the father of a family — 
 said: "Ma'am, he must be a very selfish kind 
 of man who does object to children — that is, 
 good children." So mamma earnestly hoped 
 that hers would be a good child. 
 
 So she was — for a long time. There were 
 such interesting things to see out of the win- 
 dow: puff-puffs without end: some moving on 
 the rails^-some standing still — some with a long 
 train behind them — ; some without. What per- 
 plexed and troubled Little Sunshine most, was 
 to see the men who kept running across the 
 rails and ducking under the engines. She got 
 quite excited about them. 
 
 " That poor man must not go on the rails, 
 else the puff-puff will run over him and hurt 
 him. Then Sunny must pick him up, and take 
 him to her nursery, and cuddle him." (She al- 
 ways wants to cuddle every body who is ill or 
 hurt.) " Mamma, tell that poor man he mustn't 
 go on the rails." 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 23 
 
 And even when mamma explained that the 
 man knew what he was about, and was not 
 likely, to let himself be run over by any puff- 
 puff," the little girl still looked anxious and un- 
 happy, until the train swept right away into 
 the open country, with fields and trees, and 
 cows and baa-lambs. These last delighted her 
 much. She kept nodding her head and count- 
 ing them. " There's papa baa-lambs, and 
 mamma baa-lambs, and little baby baa-lambs, 
 just like Little Sunny ; and they all run about 
 together ; and they are so happy." 
 
 Every thing, indeed, looked as happy as the 
 lambs and the child. It was a bright Septem- 
 ber day, the trees just beginning to change color, 
 and the rich midland counties of England — full 
 of farms and pasture-lands, with low hills slop- 
 ing up to the horizon — looked specially beau- 
 tiful. But the people in the carriage did not 
 seem to notice any thing. They were all gen- 
 tlemen, as I said, and they had all got their af- 
 ternoon papers, and were reading hard. Not 
 much wonder, as the newspapers were terribly 
 interesting that day — the day after the capitu- 
 lation of Sedan, when the Emperor Louis Na- 
 poleon surrendered himself and his army to 
 King William of Prussia. When Little Sun- 
 shine has grown a woman, she will understand 
 
24 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 all about it. But now she only sat looking at 
 the baa-lambs out of the window, and now and 
 then pulling, rather crossly, at the newspaper 
 in her mamma's hand. " I don't want you to 
 read!" In her day, may there never be read 
 such dreadful things as her mamma read in 
 those newspapers! 
 
 The gentlemen at last put down theirs, and 
 began to talk together, loudly and fast. Sun- 
 shine's mamma listened, now to them, now to 
 her little girl, who asked all sorts of questions, 
 as usual. "What's that? you tell me about 
 that," she is always saying, as she twists her 
 fingers tight in those of her mamma, who an- 
 swers at once, and exactly, so far as she knows. 
 When she does not know — and even mammas 
 can not be expected to understand every thing 
 — she says plainly, "My little girl, I don't 
 know." And her little girl always believes her, 
 and is satisfied. 
 
 Sunshine was growing rather tired now ; and 
 the gentlemen kept on talking, and did not 
 take any notice of her, or attempt to amuse her, 
 as strangers generally do, she being such a live- 
 ly and easily -amused child. Her mamma, fear- 
 ful of her restlessness, struck out a brilliant 
 idea. ^. 
 
 Little Sunshine has a eousin Georgy, whom 
 
that's mamma's peak!" said she. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. ^5 
 
 she is very fond of, and who a few days before 
 had presented her with some pears. These 
 pears had but one fault — they could not be eat- 
 en ; being as hard as bullets, and as sour as 
 crabs. They tried the little girl's patience ex- 
 ceedingly, but she was very good. She went 
 every morning to look at them as they stood 
 ranged in a row along mamma's window-sill, 
 and kissed them one by one to make them ripe. 
 At last they did ripen, and were gradually eat- 
 en — except one, the biggest and most beautiful 
 of all. "Suppose," mamma suggested, "that 
 we keep it two days more, then it will be quite 
 ripe ; mamma will put it in her pocket, and we 
 will eat it in the train, half-way to Scotland." 
 Little Sunshine looked disappointed, but she 
 did not cry, nor worry mamma — who, she 
 knows, never changes her mind when once she 
 says No — and presently forgot all about it. 
 Until, lo! just as the poor little girl was get- 
 ting dull and tired, with nothing to do, and no- 
 body to play with, mamma pulled out of her 
 pocket — the identical pear ! Such a pear ! so 
 large and so pretty — almost too pretty to eat. 
 The child screamed with delight, and immedi- 
 ately began to make public her felicity. 
 
 " That's mamma's pear !" said she, touching 
 the coat-sleeve of the old gentleman next her 
 
28 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 — a very grim old gentleman^an American, 
 thin and gaunt, with a face not unlike the wolf 
 in Little Red Ridinghood. " That's mamma's 
 pear. Mamma 'membered (remembered) to 
 bring. Sunny that pear!" 
 
 "Eh ?" said the old gentleman, shaking the 
 little fingers off, not exactly in unkindness, but 
 as if it were a fly that had settled on him and 
 fidgeted him. But Sunny, quite* unaccus- 
 tomed to be shaken off, immediately drew back, 
 shyly and half offended, and did not look at 
 him again.' 
 
 He went on talking, in a cross and "cantan- 
 kerous" way, to another gentleman, with a gray 
 beard — an Indian officer, j ust come from Cash- 
 mere, which he declared to be the finest country 
 in the world ; while the American said angrily 
 " that it was nothing like Virginia." But as 
 neither had been in the other country, they 
 were about as able to judge the matter as most 
 people are when they dispute about a thing. 
 Nevertheless, they discussed the question so 
 violently, that Little Sunshine, who is not used 
 to quarrelling, or seeing people quarrel, opened 
 her blue eyes wide with astonishment. 
 
 Fortunately, she was engrossed by her pear, 
 which took a long time to eat. First, it had to 
 be pared — in long parings, which twisted and 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 27 
 
 dangled like Sunshine's curls. Then these 
 parings had to be thrown out of the window to 
 the little birds, which were seen sitting here 
 and there on the telegraph wires. Lastly, the 
 pear had to be eaten slowly and deliberately. 
 She fed mamma, herself, and Lizzie too, turn 
 and turn about, in the most conscientious way ; 
 uttering at each mouthful that ringing laugh 
 which I wish I could put into paper and print ; 
 but I can't. By the time all was done, Sun- 
 shine had grown sleepy. She cuddled down 
 in her mamma's arms, with a whispered request 
 for " Maymie's apron." 
 
 Now here a confession must be made. The 
 one consolation of .life to this little person is the 
 flannel apron upon which her first nurse used 
 to wash her when she was a baby. She takes 
 the two corners of it to stroke her face with 
 one hand, while she sucks the thumb of the 
 other — and so she lies, meditating with open 
 eyes, till at last she goes to sleep. She is nev- 
 er allowed to have the apron in public, so to- 
 day her mamma was obliged to invent a little 
 " Maymie's apron " — a small square of flannel 
 — to comfort her on the long railway journey. 
 This being produced, though she was a little 
 ashamed, and blushed in her pretty childish 
 way, she turned her back on the gentlemen in 
 
28 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 the carriage and settled down in deep content, 
 her eyes fixed on mamma's face. Gradually 
 they closed — and the lively little woman lay 
 fast asleep, warm and heavy, in her mamma's 
 arms. 
 
 There she might have slept till the journey's 
 end, but for those horrid gentlemen, who began 
 to quarrel so fiercely about French and Prus- 
 sians, and which had the right of it in this ter- 
 rible war — (a question which you little folks 
 even when you are great big folks fifty years 
 hence may hardly be able to decide) — that they 
 disturbed the poor child in her happy sleep, 
 and at last she started up, looking round her 
 with frightened eyes, and began to scream vio- 
 lently. She had been so good all/^he way, so 
 little trouble to any body, that mamma could 
 not help thinking it served the gentlemen right, 
 and told them severely that "if gentlemen did 
 differ, they need not do it so angrily as to 
 waken a child." At which phey all looked 
 rather ashamed, and were quiet for the rest of 
 the journey. 
 
 It did not last much longer ; and again the 
 little girl had the fun of jumping out of a puff- 
 puff and into a carriage. The bright day 
 closed ; it was already dusk, and pouring rain, 
 and they had to drive a long way, stop at sev- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 29 
 
 eral places, and see several new people whom 
 Little Sunshine had never seen before. She 
 was getting tired and hungry ; but still kept 
 good and did not cry; and when at last she 
 came to the cottage which her mamma had told 
 her about, where lived an old gentleman and 
 lady who had been very kind to mamma, and 
 dear grandmamma too, for many years, and 
 would be very kind to the little girl, Sunny 
 ran in at once, as merry as possible. 
 
 After a while mamma followed, and lo ! 
 there was Little Sunshine, quite at home al- 
 ready, sitting in the middle of the white sheep- 
 skin hearth-rug, having taken half her "things" 
 off, chattering in the most friendly manner, and 
 asking to be lifted up to see " a dear little baby 
 and a mamma," which was a portrait of the old 
 lady's eldest sister as an infant in her mother's 
 arms, about seventy years ago. 
 
 And what do you think happened next? 
 Sunny actually sat up to supper, which she 
 had never done in all her life before — supper by 
 candle-light: a mouthful of fowl, and a good 
 many mouth fills of delicious cream, poured, 
 with a tiny bit of jam in the middle of it, into 
 her saucer. And she made a large piece of dry 
 toast into "fishes," and swam themln her mam- 
 ma's tea, and then fished them out with a tea- 
 
30 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 spoon, and ate them up. Altogether it was a 
 wonderful meal, and left her almost too wide 
 awake to go to bed, if she had not had the de- 
 light of sleeping in her mamma's room instead 
 of a nursery, and being bathed, instead of in her 
 own proper bath, in a washing-tub ! 
 
 This washing-tub was charming. She eyed 
 it doubtfully, she walked round it, she peered 
 over it ; at last she slowly got into it. 
 
 " Come and see me in my bath; come and 
 see Sunny in her bath," cried she, inviting all 
 the family, half of whom accepted the invita- 
 tion. Mamma heard such shouts of laughing, 
 with her little girl's laugh clearer than all, that 
 she was obliged to go up stairs to see what was 
 the matter. There was Sunshine frolicking 
 about and splashing like a large fish in the tub, 
 the maids and mistresses standing round, ex- 
 ceedingly amused at their new plaything, the 
 little " water-baby." 
 
 But at last the day's excitement was^ over, 
 and Sunny lay in her white night-gown, cud- 
 dled up like a round ball in her mamma's lap, 
 sucking her Maymie's apron, and listening to 
 the adventures of Tommy Tinker. Tommy 
 Tinker is a young gentleman about whom a 
 story, " a quite new story, which Sunny never 
 heard before," has to be told every night. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 31 
 
 Mamma had done this for two months, till 
 Tommy, his donkey, his father, John Tinker, 
 who went about the country crying "Pots and 
 kettles to mend," his school-fellow, Jack, and 
 his playfellow, Mary, were familiar characters, 
 and had gone through so much that mamma 
 was often puzzled as to what should happen to 
 them next; this night especially, when she 
 herself was rather tired, but fortunately the lit- 
 tle girl grew sleepy very soon. 
 
 So she said her short prayers, ending with 
 " God make Sunny a good little girl" (to which 
 she sometimes deprecatingly adds, "but Sunny 
 is a good girl"), curled down in the beautiful 
 large strange bed — such a change from her lit- 
 tle crib at home — and was fast asleep in no 
 time. 
 
 Thus ended the first day of Little Sunshine's 
 Holiday. 
 
 C 
 
32 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NEXT morning Little Sunshine was awake 
 very early, sitting upright in bed, and 
 trying to poke open her mamma's eyes ; then 
 she looked about her in the new room with 
 the greatest curiosity. 
 
 " There's my tub ! there's Sunny's tub ! I 
 want to go into my tub again !" she suddenly 
 cried with a shout of .delight, and insisted on 
 pattering over to it on her bare feet, and swim- 
 ming all sorts of things in it — a comb, a brush, 
 biscuits, the soap-dish and soap, and a large 
 penny, which she Jiad found. These kept her 
 amused till she was ready to be dressed, after 
 which she went independently down stairs, 
 where her mamma found her, as before, sitting 
 on the white rug, and conversing cheerfully 
 with the old gentleman and lady, and the rest 
 of the family. 
 
 After breakfast she was taken into the gar- 
 den. It was a very nice garden, with lots of 
 apple-trees in it, and many apples had fallen to 
 the ground. Sunshine picked them up and 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 33^ 
 
 brought them in her pinafore, to ask mamma if 
 she might eat them — for she never eats any 
 thing without saying, "May I?" and when it 
 is given to hershe always says, "Thank you." 
 
 Then she went back into the garden again, 
 and saw no end of curious things. Every 
 body was so kind to her, and petted her as if 
 there had never been a child in the house be- 
 fore, which certainly there had not for a great 
 many years. She and her mamma would will- 
 ingly have staid ever so much longer in the 
 dear little cottage, but there was another house 
 in Scotland, where were waiting Sunshine's 
 two aunties ; not real aunties, for she has none, 
 nor uncles neither ; but she is a child so well 
 loved, that she has heaps of adopted aunts and 
 uncles too. These — Auntie Weirie and Auntie 
 Maggie — with other kind friends, expected her 
 without fail that very night. 
 
 So Sunny was obliged to say good-bye, and 
 start again, which she did on her own two little 
 feet, for the fly forgot to come ; and her mam- 
 ma, and her Lizzie, and two more kind people, 
 had to make a rush of more than a mile, or 
 they would have missed the train. If papa, or 
 any body at home, had seen them — half walk- 
 ing, and half running — and carrying the little 
 girl by turns, or making her run between 
 
"34 
 
 LITTLE SUNSHINE' S HOLIDAY. 
 
 them, till she said mournfully, " Sunny can't 
 run— Sunny is so tired I" — how sorry they 
 would have been ! 
 
 And when at the station she lost her mam- 
 ma, who was busy about luggage, poor Sunny's 
 troubles seemed great indeed. She screamed 
 till mamma heard her ever so far off, and when 
 she caught sight of her again, she clung round 
 her neck in the most frantic way. " I thought 
 you was lost ; I thought you was lost." 
 
 (Sunny's grammar is not perfect yet. She 
 can not understand tenses ; she says " brang " 
 instead of "brought," and once being told that 
 this was not right, she altered it to " I brung," 
 which, indeed, had some sense, for do we not 
 say "I rang," and "I rung?" Perhaps Little 
 Sunshine will yet write a book on grammar — 
 who knows?) 
 
 Well, she parted from her friends, quite 
 cheerfully of course — she never cries after any 
 body but her mamma and papa — and soon 
 made acquaintance with her fellow-travellers, 
 who this time were chiefly ladies. It being 
 nearly one o'clock, two of them took a beauti- 
 ful basket of lunch ; sandwiches, and cakes, and 
 grapes. Little Sunshine watched it with grave 
 composure until she saw the grapes, which 
 were very fine. Then she could not help 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 35 
 
 whispering to her mamma very softly, " Sunny 
 likes grapes." 
 
 "Hush!" said mamma, also in a whisper, 
 " They are not ours, so we can't have them" — 
 an answer which always satisfies this little girl. 
 She said no more. But perhaps the young 
 lady who was eating the grapes saw the silent, 
 wistful eyes, for she picked off the most beau- 
 tiful half of the bunch and handed it over. 
 " Thank you," said Sunny, in the politest way. 
 "Look, mamma! grapes! — shall I give, you 
 one?" And the delight of eating them, and 
 feeding mamma with them, " like a little bird," 
 altogether comforted her for the troubles with 
 which she began her journey. 
 
 Then she grew conversational, and informed 
 every body that Sunny was going to Scotland, 
 to a place where she had never been before, 
 and that she was to row in a boat and catch 
 big salmon; — which no doubt interested them 
 much. She herself was so interested in every 
 thing she saw, that it was impossible not to 
 share- her enjoyment. She sat or stood at the 
 carriage window and watched the view. It 
 was quite different from any thing she had 
 been used to. Sunny lives in a yqtj pretty 
 but rather level country, full of woods and 
 lanes, and hedges and fields ; but she had nev- 
 
36 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 er seen a bill or a river, or indeed (except the 
 Thames) any .-sort of water bigger than a horse- 
 pond. Mamma had sometimes shown her pic- 
 tures of mountains and lakes, but doubted if 
 the child had taken it in, and was therefore 
 quite surprised when she called out, all of a 
 sudden, " There's a mountain !" 
 
 And a mountain it really was — one of those 
 Westmoreland hills, bleak and bare, which 
 gradually rise up before travellers' eyes on the 
 North journey, a foretaste of all the beautiful 
 things that are corning. Mamma, delighted, 
 held, up her little girl to look at it — the first 
 mountain Sunny ever saw — with its long, 
 smooth slopes, and the sheep feeding on them, 
 dotted here and there like white stones, or mov- 
 ing about like walking daisies. 
 
 Little Sunshine was greatly charmed with 
 the "baa-lambs." She had seen plepty this 
 spring — white baa-lambs and black baa-lambs, 
 and white baa-lambs with black faces — but 
 never so many at a time. And they skipped 
 about in' such a lively way, and stood so fun- 
 nily in steep places, with their four little legs 
 all screwed up together, looking at the train 
 as it passed, that she grew quite excited, and 
 wanted to jump out and play with him. 
 
 To quiet her, mamma told her a story about 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 37 
 
 the mountains, how curious they looked in win- 
 ter, all covered with snow ; and how the lambs 
 were sometimes lost in the snow, and the shep- 
 herds went out to find them, and carried them 
 home in their arms, and warmed them by the 
 fireside and fed them, until they opened their 
 eyes, and stretched their little frozen legs, and 
 began to run about the floor. 
 
 Little Sunshine listened, with her wide blue 
 eyes fixed on the mountain, and then upon her 
 mamma's /ace, never saying a word, till at 
 length she burst out quite breathless, for she 
 does not yet know words enough to get out her 
 thoughts, with — 
 
 "I want a little baa-lamb. No"— she stop- 
 ped and corrected herself — "I want two little 
 baa-lambs. I would go and fetch them in out 
 of the snow, and carry them in my little arms, 
 and lay them on Maymie's apron by my nur- 
 sery fire, and warm them, and make them quite 
 well again. And the. two dear little baa- 
 lambs would play about together — so pretty." 
 
 It was a long speech — the longest she had 
 ever made all at once — and the little girl's eyes 
 sparkled and her cheeks grew hot, with the dif- 
 ficulty she had in getting it out, so that mamma 
 might understand. But mamma understands 
 a good deal. Only it was less easy to explain 
 
38 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 to Sunny that she could neither have a lamb to 
 play with, nor go out on the mountain to fetch 
 it. However, mamma promised that if ever a 
 little lamb were lost in the snow near her own 
 house, and her gardener were to find it, he 
 should be allowed to bring it in, and Sunny 
 should make it warm by the fire and be kind 
 to it, until it was quite well again. 
 
 But still the child went back now and then 
 to the matter in a melancholy voice. " I don't 
 like a dear little baa-lamb to be lost in the snow. 
 
 I want a little baa-lamb in my nursery. I 
 would cuddle it and take such care of it" (for 
 the strongest instinct of this little woman is to 
 
 II take care" of people). " Mamma, some day 
 may Sunny have a little baa-lamb to take care 
 of?" 
 
 Mamma promised ; for she knew well that 
 if Sunny grows up to be a woman, with the 
 same instinct of protection that she has now, 
 God may send her. many of His forlorn 
 "lambs" to take care of. 
 
 Presently the baa-lambs were forgotten in a 
 new sight — a stream ; a real, flowing, tumbling 
 stream — which ran alongside of the railway for 
 ever so far. It jumped over rocks, and made 
 itself into white foamy whirlpools, it looked so 
 very much alive; and so unlike any water that 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 39 
 
 Sunny had ever seen before, that she was quite 
 astonished. 
 
 "What's that? — what's that?" she kept say- 
 ing ; and at last, struck with a sudden idea : 
 " Is it Scotland ?" 
 
 What her notion of Scotland was — whether 
 a place, or a person, or a thing — her mamma 
 could not make out, but the name was firmly 
 fixed in her mind, and she recurred to it con- 
 stantly. All the long weary journey, lasting 
 till long after her proper bed-time, she never 
 cried or fretted, or worried any body, but 
 amused herself without ceasing at what she 
 saw. She ate her dinner .merrily — "such a 
 funny dinner — no plates, no forks, no table- 
 clo'th" — and her tea — milk drank out of -a horn 
 cup, instead of "great-grandpapa's mug, which 
 he had when he was a little boy" — which she 
 used when at home. 
 
 As the day closed in, she grew tired of look- 
 ing out of the window, snuggled up in her 
 mamma's arms, and, turning her back upon the 
 people in the carriage, whispered, blushing very 
 much*. "Maymie's apron — Sunny wants the 
 little Maymie's apron ;" and lay sucking it 
 meditatively, till she dropped asleep. 
 
 She was asleep when the train reached Scot- 
 land. She did not see the stars coming out 
 
40 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 • 
 
 over the Grampian Hills, nor the beautiful fires 
 near Grartsherrie — that ring of iron furnaces, 
 blazing fiercely into the night — which are such a 
 wonderful sight to behold. And she only woke 
 up in time' to have her hat and cloak put on, 
 and be told that she was really in Scotland, 
 and would see her aunties in a minute more. 
 And, sure enough, in the midst of the bustle 
 and confusion, there was Auntie Weirie's 
 bright face at the carriage-door, with her arms 
 stretched out«to receive the sleepy little trav- 
 eller. 
 
 Four or five miles were yet to be accom- 
 plished, but it was in a comfortable carriage, 
 dark and quiet. The little girl's tongue was 
 altogether silent — but she was not asleep, for 
 all of a sudden she burst out, as if she had been 
 thinking over the matter for a long time: 
 " Mamma, you forgot the tickets." 
 
 Every body laughed ; and mamma explained 
 to her most accurate little daughter that she 
 had given up the tickets while Sunny was 
 asleep. Auntie Weirie foreboded merrily how 
 Sunny would "keep mamma in order" by- 
 and-by. 
 
 Yery sleepy and tired the poor child was ; 
 but, except one entreaty for " a little drop of 
 milk" — which somehow was got at — she made 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 41 
 
 no complaint, and never once cried, till the 
 carriage stopped at the house-door. 
 
 Oh, such a door, and such a house! Quite 
 a fairy palace! And there, standing waiting, 
 was a pretty lady — not unlike a fairy lady — 
 who took Little Sunshine in her arms and car- 
 ried her off, unresisting, to a beautiful drawing- 
 room, where, in the great tall mirrors, she could 
 see herself everywhere at full length. 
 
 What a funny figure she was, trotting about 
 and examining every thing, as she always does 
 on entering a strange room ! Her little water- 
 proof cloak made her look as broad as she was 
 long; and when she tossed off her hat, her 
 curls tumbled about in disorder ; and her face 
 and hands were so dirty, that mamma was 
 quite ashamed. But nobody minded it, and 
 every body welcomed her, and the pretty lady 
 carried her off again up stairs into the most 
 charming extempore nursery, next to her mam- 
 ma's room, where she could run in and out, 
 and be as happy as a queen. 
 
 She was as happy as a queen, when she 
 woke up next morning to all the wonders of 
 the house. First there was a poll-parrot, who 
 could say not only " Pretty Poll !" but a great 
 many other words: could bark like a dog, 
 grunt like a pig, and do all sorts of wonderful 
 
42 LITTLE S UNSHIXE ' & HOLIDA Y. 
 
 things. He lived chiefly in the butler's pantn r , 
 but was brought out on occasion for the amuse- 
 ment of visitors. Sunny was taken to see him 
 directly; and there she stood, watching him 
 intently ; laughing sometimes in her sudden, 
 ecstatic way, with her head thrown back, and 
 her little nose all crumpled up ; till, being only 
 a button of a nose at best, it nearly disappeared 
 altogether. 
 
 And then, in the breakfast-room, there were 
 two dogs — Jack, a young rough Scotch terrier, 
 and Bob, a smooth terrier, very ugly and old. 
 Now Sunny's dog at home, Eose, who was a 
 puppy when she was a baby, so that the two 
 were brought up together, is the gentlest crea- 
 ture imaginable. She will let Sunny roll over 
 her, and pull her paws and tail, and even put 
 her little fat hand into her mouth, without 
 growling or biting. But these strange dogs 
 were not used to children. Sunny tried to 
 make friends with them, as she tries to do with 
 every live creature she sees ; even crying, one 
 day, because she could not manage to kiss a 
 spider, it ran away so fast. But Bob and Jack 
 did not understand her affection at all. When 
 she stroked and patted them, and vainly tried 
 to carry them in her arms, by the legs, head, 
 tail, or any where she could catch hold of, they 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 43 
 
 escaped away, scampering off as fast as they 
 could. The little girl looked after them with 
 mournful eyes ; it was hard to see them frolick- 
 ing about, and hot taking the least notice of her. 
 
 But very soon somebody much better than 
 a little dog began to notice her — a kind boy 
 named Franky, who, though he was a school- 
 boy, home for the holidays, did not think it in 
 the least beneath 'his dignity to be good to a 
 little girl. She sat beside him at prayers, dur- 
 ing which time she watched him carefully, 
 and evidently made up her mind that he was 
 a nice person, and one to be played with. So 
 when he began playing with her, she responded 
 eagerly, and they were soon the best of friends. 
 
 Presently Franky had to leave her and go 
 with his big brother down to the bottom of a 
 coal mine, about which he had told such won- 
 derful stories, that Little Sunshine, had she 
 been bigger, would certainly have liked to go 
 too. "You jump into a basket, and are let 
 down, down, several hundred feet, till you touch 
 the bottom, and then you find a new world un- 
 der-ground : long passages, so narrow that you 
 can not stand upright, and loftier rooms be- 
 tween, and men working — as black as the coal 
 themselves — with lights in their caps. Also 
 horses, dragging trucks full of coal — horses 
 
.< 
 
 44 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 that have never seen the daylight since they 
 were taken down the pit, perhaps seven or ten 
 years ago, and will never see daylight again as 
 long as they live. Yet they live happily, are 
 kindly treated, and have comfortable stables, 
 all in the dark of the coal mine — and no doubt 
 are quite as content as the horses that work in 
 the outside world, high above their heads." 
 
 Sunshine heard all this. I can not say that 
 she understood it, being such a very little girl, 
 you know ; but whenever Franky opened his 
 lips she watched him with intense admiration, 
 and when he was gone she looked quite sad. 
 However, she soon found another friend in the 
 pretty lady, Franky's mamma. Her own mam- 
 ma was obliged to go out directly after break- 
 fast, so this other mamma took Sunny under 
 her especial protection, and showed her all 
 about the house. First, they visited the 'par- 
 rot, who went through all his performances 
 over again. Then they proceeded up stairs to 
 what used to be the nursery, only the little 
 girls had grown into big girls, and were now 
 far away at school. But their mamma showed 
 Sunny their old toy-cupboard, where were ar- 
 ranged, in beautiful order, playthings so love- 
 ly that it was utterly impossible such very tiny 
 fingers could safely be trusted with them. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 45 
 
 So Little Sunshine was obliged to practise 
 the lesson she has learnt with her mamma's 
 china cabinet at home — " Look and not touch." 
 Ever since she was a baby, Wedgwood ware, 
 Sevres and Dresden china, all sorts of delicate 
 and precious things, have been left within her 
 reach on open shelves; but she was taught 
 fro:n the first that she must not touch them, 
 and she never does. " The things that Sunny 
 may play with," such as a small plaster hand, a 
 bronze angel, and a large agate seal, she takes 
 carefully out from among the rest, and is con- 
 tent with them — just as content as she was 
 with one particular doll which the pretty lady 
 chose out from among these countless treasures 
 and gave to her to play with. 
 
 Now Sunny has had a good many dolls — 
 wooden dolls, gutta-percha dolls, dolls made of 
 linen with faces of wax — but none of them had 
 ever lasted, entire, for more than twenty-four 
 hours. They always met with some misfor- 
 tune or other — lost a leg or an arm ; their 
 heads dropped off, and the sawdust ran out of 
 their bodies, leaving them mere empty bits of 
 calico, not dolls at all. The wrecks she had 
 left behind her at home — bodies without heads, 
 heads without bodies, arms and legs sewed 
 upon bodies that did not belong to them, or 
 
46 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 strewed about separately in all directions — 
 would have been melancholy to think of, only 
 that she loved them quite as well in that dis- 
 membered condition as when they were new. 
 
 But this was a dolly — such a dolly as Sunny 
 had never had before. Perfectly whole, with a 
 pretty waxen face, a nose, and two eyes ; also 
 hair, real hair that could be combed. This she 
 at once proceeded to do with her mamma's 
 comb, just as her Lizzie did her own hair every 
 morning, until the comb became full of long 
 flaxen hairs — certainly not mamma's — and 
 there grew a large bald place on the top of 
 dolly's head, which Sunny did not understand 
 at all. Thereupon her Lizzie came to the 
 rescue, and proposed tying up the poor rem- 
 nant of curls with- a blue ribbon, and dressing 
 dolly, whose clothes took off and on beautiful- 
 ly, in her out-of-doors dress, so that Sunshine 
 might take her a walk in the garden. 
 
 Lizzie is a very ingenious person in mending 
 and dressing dollies, and has also the gift of 
 unlimited patience with her charge ; so the 
 toilet went off very well, and soon both Sun- 
 shine and her doll were ready to go out with 
 Franky's mamma and see the cows, pigs, sheep, 
 chickens, and all the wonders of the outside es- 
 tablishment, which was a very .large one. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 47 
 
 Indeed the pretty lady showed her so many 
 curious things, and played with her so much, 
 that when, just before dark, her own mamma 
 came back, and saw a little roly-poly figure, hug- 
 ging a large doll, running as fast as ever it could 
 along the gravel-walk to meet her — she felt 
 convinced that the first day in Scotland had 
 been a most delightful one, altogether perfect 
 in its way. So much so that, when put to bed, 
 Sunny again forgot Tommy Tinker. She was 
 chattering so much of all she had seen, that it 
 was not until the last minute that she remem- 
 bered to ask for a "story." 
 
 There was no story in mamma's head to- 
 night. . Instead, she told something really true, 
 which had happened in the street near the 
 house where she had spent the day : — 
 
 A poor little boy, just come out of school, was 
 standing on the top of the school-door steps, 
 with his books in his hand. Suddenly a horse 
 that was passing took fright, rushed up the 
 steps, and knocked the boy down. He fell 
 several feet, and a huge stone fell after, just on 
 the top of him — and — and — 
 
 Mamma stopped. She could not tell any 
 more of the pitiful story. Her child's eyes 
 were fixed upon her face, which Little Sunny 
 reads sometimes as plain as any book. 
 D 
 
48 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 " Mamma, was the poor little boy hurt?" 
 
 " Yes, my darling." 
 
 " Yery much hurt ?" 
 
 " Yery much, indeed." 
 
 Sunny sat upright, and began speaking loud 
 and fast, in her impetuous, broken way. 
 
 "I want to go and see that poor little boy. 
 I will bring him to my nursery and put him in 
 my little bed, and take care of him. Then he 
 will get quite well." 
 
 And she looked much disappointed when 
 her mamma explained that this was not nec- 
 essary; somebody having already carried the 
 little boy home to his mamma, 
 
 " Then his mamma will cuddle him, and 
 kiss the sore place, and he will be quite well 
 soon. Is he quite well ?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Sunny's mam-ma, after a 
 minute's thought — " yes, he is quite well now ; 
 nothing will ever hurt him any more." 
 
 Sunny was perfectly satisfied. 
 
 But her mamma, when she kissed the little 
 curly head, and laid it down on its safe pillow, 
 thought of that other mother — mourning over 
 a dead child — thoughts which Little Sun- 
 shine could not understand, nor was there any 
 need she should. She may, some day, when 
 she has a little girl of her own. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 49 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LITTLE SUNSHINE had never yet be- 
 held the sea. That wonderful delight, a 
 sea-beach, with little waves -running in and 
 running back again, playing at bo-peep among 
 shingle and rocks, or a long smooth sandy 
 shore, where you may pick up shells and sea- 
 weed and pebbles, and all sorts of curious 
 things, and build castles and dig moats, filled 
 with real water — all this was unknown to the 
 little girl. So her mamma, going to spend a 
 day with a dear old friend, who lived at a love- 
 ly sea-side house, thought she would take the 
 child with her. Also " the big child ;" as her 
 Sunny sometimes called Lizzie, who enjoyed 
 going about and seeing new places as much as 
 the little child. 
 
 They started directly after breakfast one 
 morning, leaving behind them the parrot, the 
 dogs, and every thing except Franky, who es- 
 corted them in- the carriage through four or 
 five miles of ugly town streets, where all the 
 little children who ran about (and there seemed 
 
50 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 no end of them) had very rough bare heads, 
 and very dirty bare feet. 
 
 Sunny was greatly struck by them. 
 
 "Look, mamma, that little boy has got no 
 shoes and stockings on ! Shall Sunny take off 
 hers and give them to that poor little boy ?" 
 
 And she was proceeding to unbutton her 
 shoes, when her mamma explained that — the 
 boy being quite a big boy — Sunny's shoes 
 would certainly not fit him, and if they did, he 
 would probably not put them on ; since in 
 Scotland little boys and girls often go bare- 
 footed, and like it. Had not papa once taken 
 off Sunny's shoes and stockings, and let her 
 run about upon the soft warm grass of the 
 lawn, calling her " his little Scotch girl?" 
 
 Sunny accepted the reasoning, but still look- 
 ed perplexed at the bare feet. They were 
 " so dirty," and she can not bear to have the 
 least speck of dirt on feet or hands or clothes, 
 or anywhere about her. Her Auntie Weirie, 
 on whose lap she sat, and of whom she had 
 taken entire possession — children always do — 
 was very much amused. 
 
 She put them safely into the train, which 
 soon started — on a journey which mamma 
 knew well, but which seemed altogether fresh 
 when seen through her child's eyes. Such 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 51 
 
 wonderful things for Sunshine to look at! 
 Mountains — she thoroughly understood mount- 
 ains now ; and a broad river, gradually grow- 
 ing broader still, until it was almost sea. Ships 
 too — some with sails, and some with chimneys 
 smoking; "a puff-puff on the water," Sunny 
 called them. Every now and then there was 
 a little "puff-puff" dragging a big ship after 
 it, and going so fast, fast — the big ship looking 
 as proud as if it were sailing along all by its 
 own self, and the little one puffing and blowing 
 as busily as possible. Sunny watched them 
 with much curiosity, and then started a bril- 
 liant idea. 
 
 " That's a papa-boat and that's a baby -boat, 
 and the baby -boat pulls the papa-boat along! 
 So funny !" 
 
 And she crumpled up her little face, and, 
 tossing up her head, laughed her quite' inde- 
 scribable laugh, which makes every body else 
 laugh too. 
 
 There were various other curious things to 
 be seen on the river, especially some things 
 which mamma told her were called " buoys." 
 These of course she took to mean little " boys," 
 and looked puzzled, until mamma described 
 them as " big red thimbles," which she under- 
 stood, and noticed each one with great interest 
 ever afterwards. 
 
52 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 But it would be vain to tell all the things 
 she saw, and all the delight she took in them. 
 Occasionally her little face grew quite grave, 
 such difficulty had she in understanding the 
 wonders that increased more and more. And 
 when at last the journey was ended and the 
 train, stopped, the little girl was rather trou- 
 bled, and would not let go of her mamma for 
 a single minute. 
 
 For the lovely autumn weather of }^esterday 
 had changed into an equinoctial gale. Inland, 
 one did not so much perceive it, but at the sea- 
 side it was terrible. People living on that 
 coast will long remember this particular day 
 as one of the wildest of the season, or for sev- 
 eral seasons. The wind blew, and the sea 
 roared, as even mamma, who knew the place 
 well, had seldom heard. Instead of tiny wave- 
 let's running after Sunny's little feet, as had 
 been promised her, there were huge "white 
 horses" rising and falling in the middle of the 
 river; while along the shore the waves kept 
 pouring in, and dashing themselves in and out 
 of the rocks, with force enough to knock any 
 poor little girl down. Sunny could not go* 
 near them, and the wind was so high that her 
 hat had to be tied on ; and her cloak, a cape of 
 violet wool, which Auntie Weirie had rushed 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE^ HOLIDAY. 53 
 
 to fetch at the last minute, in case of rain, was 
 the greatest possible blessing. Still, fasten it 
 as Lizzie would, the wind blew it loose again, 
 and tossed her curls all over her face in a furi- 
 ous fashion, which the little girl could not un- 
 derstand at all. 
 
 " Sunny don't like it," said she, pitifully ; 
 and, forgetful of all the promised delights — 
 shells, and pebbles, and castles of sand — took 
 refuge gladly in-doors. 
 
 However, this little girl is of such a happy 
 nature in herself that she quickly grows happy 
 anywhere. And the house she came to was 
 such a beautiful house, with a conservatory 
 full of flowers — she is so fond of flowers — and 
 a large hall to play in besides. Her merry 
 voice was soon heard in all directions, rather 
 to her mamma's distress, as the dear mistress 
 of the house was not well. But Sunny com- 
 prehends that she must always speak in a 
 whisper when people are not well; so she 
 was presently quieted down, and came into 
 the dining-room and ate her dinner by mam- 
 ma's side,. as good as gold. She has always 
 dined with mamma ever since she could sit up 
 in a chair, so she behaves quite properly — al- 
 most like a grown-up person. When she and 
 mamma are alone, they converse all dinner- 
 
54 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 time; but when there are other people pres- 
 ent, she is told that " little girls must be seen 
 and not heard" — a rule which she observes as 
 far as she can. Not altogether, I am afraid, 
 for she is very fond of talking. 
 
 Still she was good, upon the whole, and en- 
 joyed herself much, until she had her things 
 put on again, ready to start once more, in a 
 kind lady's carriage which was ordered to drive 
 slowly along the shore, that Sunny might # see 
 as much as possible, without being exposed to 
 the wind and spray. She was much interest- 
 ed, and a little awed. She ceased to chatter, 
 and sat looking out of the carriage window on 
 the curve of shore, over which the tide came 
 pouring in long rollers, and sweeping back 
 again in wide sheets of water mixed with 
 white foam. 
 
 "Does Sunny like the waves?" asked the 
 kind lady, who has a sweet way with children, 
 and is very good to them, though she has none 
 of her own. 
 
 "Yes, Sunny likes them," said the little girl, 
 after a pause, as if she were trying to make up 
 her mind. 'Posing (supposing) Sunny were 
 to go and swim upon them ? If — if mamma 
 would come too ?" 
 
 "But wouldn't Sunny be afraid ?" 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 55 
 
 " No " — very decidedly this time. " Sunny 
 would be quite safe if mamma came too." 
 
 The lady smiled at mamma ; who listened, 
 scarcely smiling, and did not say a word. 
 
 It was a terrible day. The boats, and even 
 big ships, were tossing about like cockle-shells 
 on the gray stormy sea ; and the mountains, 
 hiding themselves in mist, at last altogether 
 disappeared. Then the rain began to fall in 
 sheets, as it often does fall hereabouts — soak- 
 ing, blinding rain. At the station it was hard- 
 ly possible to keep one's footing : the little 
 girl, if she had not been in her Lizzie's arms, 
 would certainly have been blown down be- 
 fore she got into the railway carriage. 
 
 Once there — safely sheltered from the storm 
 — she did not mind it in the least. She jumped 
 about, and played endless tricks, to the great 
 amusement of two ladies — evidently a mamma 
 and a grandmamma — who compared her with 
 their own little people, and were very kind to 
 her — as indeed every body is when she travels. 
 Still, even they might have got 'tired out, if 
 Sunny had not fortunately grown tired herself, 
 and began to yawn in the midst of her fun in 
 a droll way. 
 
 Then mamma slyly produced out of her 
 pocket the child's best travelling companion — 
 
56 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 the little Maymie's apron. Sunny seized it 
 with a scream of delight, cuddled down, suck- 
 ing it, in her mamma's arms, and in three min- 
 utes was sound asleep. Nor did she once 
 wake up till the train stopped, and Lizzie car- 
 ried her, so muffled up that nobody could have 
 told whether it was a little girl or a brown 
 paper parcel, to the carriage, where faithful 
 Franky waited for her, and had waited ever 
 so long. 
 
 Fun and Franky always came together. 
 Sunny shook herself wide awake at once — 
 fresh as a rose, and lively as a kitten. Oh the 
 games that began, and lasted all the four miles 
 that the carriage drove through the pelting 
 rain ! Never was a big boy kinder to a little 
 girl ; so patient, so considerate ; letting her do 
 any thing she liked with him; never cross, 
 and never rough — in short, a thorough gentle- 
 man, as all boys should be to all girls, and .all 
 men to all women, whether old or young. 
 And when home was reached, the fire, like the 
 welcome, was so warm and bright that Sunny 
 seemed to have lost all memory of her day at 
 the sea-side — the stormy waves, the dreary 
 shore, the wild wind, and pouring rain. She 
 was such a contented little girl that she never 
 heeded the weather outside. But her mamma 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. ' 57 
 
 did a little, and thought of sailors at sea, and sol- 
 diers fighting abroad, and many other things. 
 
 The happy visit was nowjlrawing to a close. 
 Perhaps as well, lest, as some people foretold, 
 Sunny might get "quite spoiled' 7 — if love 
 spoils any body, which I do not believe. Cer- 
 tainly this child's felicities were endless. Ev- 
 ery body played with her ; every body was 
 kind to her. Franky and Franky's mamma, 
 her two aunties, the parrot, the dogs Bob and 
 Jack, were her companions by turns. There 
 was another dog, Wallace by name : but she 
 did not play with him, as he was an older and 
 graver and bigger animal — much bigger than 
 herself indeed. She once faintly suggested rid- 
 ing him, "as if he was a pony," but the idea 
 was not caught at, and fell to the ground, as, 
 doubtless, Sunny would have done immediate- 
 ly, had she carried out her wish. 
 
 Wallace, though big, was the gentlest dog 
 imaginable. He was a black retriever, belong- 
 ing to Franky's elder brother, a grown-up 
 young gentleman ; and his devotion to his mas- 
 ter was entire. The rest of the family he just 
 condescended to notice — but Mr. John he fol- 
 lowed everywhere with a quiet persistency — 
 the more touching because poor Wallace was 
 nearly blind. He had lost the sight of one eye 
 
58 LITTLE SUNSHINE' 'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 by an accident, and could see out of the other 
 very little. They knew how little, by the near 
 chance he had oft^n had of being run over by 
 other carriages in following theirs; so that now 
 Franky's mamma never ventured to take him 
 out with her at all. He was kept away from 
 streets, but allowed to run up and down in the 
 country, where his wonderful sense of smell 
 preserved him from any great danger. 
 
 This sense of smell, common to all retrievers, 
 seemed to have been doubled by Wallace's 
 blindness. He could track his master for miles 
 and miles, and find any thing that his master 
 had touched. Once, just to try him, Mr. John 
 showed nim a halfpenny, and then hid it under 
 a tuft of grass, and walked on across country 
 for half a mile or more. Of course the dog 
 could not see where he hid it, and had been 
 galloping about in all directions ever since; 
 3^et when his master said, " Wallace, fetch that 
 halfpenny," showing him another one, Wallace 
 instantly turned back, smelling cautiously about 
 for twenty yards or so; then, having caught 
 the right scent, bounding on faster and faster, 
 till out of sight. In half an hour more he 
 came back, and ran direct to his master with 
 the halfpenny in his mouth. 
 
 Since, Mr. John had sent the dog for his 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 59 
 
 stick, his cap, or his handkerchief, often 
 considerable distances; but Wallace always 
 brought the thing safe back, whatever it was, 
 and laid it at his master's feet. Mr. John was 
 very proud of Wallace, and very fond of him. 
 
 Sunny was not old enough to understand 
 these clevernesses of the creature, but she fully 
 appreciated one trick of his. He would hold 
 a bit of biscuit or sugar on his nose, quite 
 steady, for several minutes, while his master 
 said "Trust," not attempting to eat it; but 
 when Mr. John said " Paid for !" Wallace gob- 
 bled it up at once. This he did several times, 
 to Sunshine's great delight, but always with a 
 sort of hesitation, as if he considered it £ little 
 below the dignity of such a very superior ani- 
 mal. And the minute they were gone he 
 would march away with his slow blind step, 
 following his beloved master. 
 
 But all pleasures come to an end, and so did 
 these of Little Sunshine's. First, Franky went 
 off to school, and she missed him out of the 
 house very much. Then one day, instead of 
 the regular morning amusements, she had to 
 be dressed quickly, to eat her breakfast twice 
 as fast as usual, and have her " things " put on 
 all in a hurry " # to go by the puff-puff." Her 
 only consolation was that Dolly should have 
 
60 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HO LID AT. 
 
 her things put on too — poor Dolly ! who, from 
 constant combing, was growing balder and 
 balder every day, and whose clothes were slow- 
 ly disappearing, so that it required all Lizzie's 
 ingenuity to dress her decently for the journey. 
 
 This done, Sunny took her in her arms, and 
 became so absorbed in her as hardly to notice 
 the affectionate adieux of her kind friends, 
 some of whom went with her to the station : so 
 she scarcely understood that it was good-bye. 
 And besides, it is only elder folks who under- 
 stand good-byes, not little people. All the 
 better, too. 
 
 Sunshine was delighted to be in a puff-puff 
 again* and to see more mountains. She watch- 
 ed them till she was tired, and then went com- 
 fortably to sleep, having first made Dolly com- 
 fortable too, lying as snug in her arms as she 
 did in her mamma's. But she and Dolly woke 
 u'p at the journey's end ; when, indeed, Sunny 
 became so energetic and lively, that seeing her 
 mamma and her Lizzie carrying each a bag, 
 she insisted on carrying something too. Seiz- 
 ing upon a large luncheon basket which the 
 pretty lady had filled with no end of good 
 things, she actually lifted it, and bore it, totter- 
 ing under its weight, for several yards. 
 
 " See, mamma, Sunny can carry it," said she 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. . 61 
 
 in triumph, and her mamma never hinders the 
 little girl from doing every thing she can do ; 
 wishing to make her a useful and helpful wom- 
 an, who will never ask any body else to do for 
 her what she can do for h'erself. 
 
 The place they were going to was quite dif- 
 ferent from that they had left. It was only 
 lodgings — in a house on the top of a hill — but 
 they were nice lodgings, and it was a bright 
 breezy hill, sloping down to a beautiful glen, 
 through which ran an equally beautiful stream. 
 Thence, the country sloped up again, through 
 woods and pasture-lands, to a dim range of 
 mountains, far in the horizon. A very pretty 
 place outside, and not bad inside, only the little 
 girl's " nursery " was not so large and cheerful 
 as the one she was used to, and she missed the 
 full house and the merry companions. How- 
 ever, being told that papa was coming to-mor- 
 row, she brightened up, and informed every 
 body, whether interested or not in the fact, that 
 " Sunny was going to see papa jump out of 
 a pufT-puff, to-morrow." u To-morrow" being 
 still to her a very indefinite thing ; but " papa 
 jumping out of a puff-puff" has long been one 
 of the great features of her existence. 
 
 Still, to-day she would have been rather dull, 
 if when she went out into the garden there had 
 
62 . LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 not come timidly forward, to look at her, a lit- 
 tle girl, whose name mamma inquired, and 
 found that it was Kelly. 
 
 Here a word or two ought to be said about 
 Nelly, for she turned out the greatest comfort 
 to . solitary little Sunny, in this strange place. 
 Nelly was not exactly " a young lady ;" indeed 
 at first she hung back in 'a sweet shy way, as 
 doubtful whether Sunny's mamma would- al- 
 low the child to play with her. But Nelly 
 was such a good little girl, so well brought-up 
 and sensible, though only ten years old, that 
 a princess might have had her for a playfel- 
 low without any disadvantage. And as soon 
 as mamma felt sure that Sunny would learn 
 nothing bad from her — which is the only real 
 objection to playfellows — she allowed the chil- 
 dren to be together as much as ever they 
 liked. 
 
 Nelly called Sunshine " a bonnie wee lassie " 
 — words which, not understanding what they 
 meant, had already offended her several times 
 since she came to Scotland. 
 
 " I'm not a bonnie wee lassie — I'm Sunny ; 
 mamma's little Sunny, I am !" cried she, almost 
 in tears. But this was the only annoyance 
 that Nellie ever gave her. 
 
 Very soon the two children were sitting to- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 63 
 
 gether in a most charming play-place — some 
 tumble-down, moss-grown stone steps leading 
 down to the garden. From thence you could 
 see the country for miles, and watch the rail- 
 way trains winding along like big serpents, 
 with long feathers of steam and smoke stream- 
 ing from their heads in the daylight, and great 
 red fiery eyes gleaming through the dark. 
 
 Nelly had several stories to tell about them 
 — how once a train caught fire, and blazed up 
 — they saw the blaze from these steps— and 
 very dreadful it was to look at; also, she 
 wanted to know if Sunny had seen the river 
 below ; such a beautiful little river, only some- 
 times people were drowned in it — two young 
 ladies who were bathing, and also a school- 
 master, who had fallen into a deep hole, which 
 was now called the Dominie's Hole. 
 
 Nelly spoke broad Scotch, but her words 
 were well chosen, and her manner very simple 
 and gentle and sweet. She had evidently 
 been carefully educated, as almost all Scotch 
 children are. She went to school, she said, 
 every morning, so that she could only play 
 with Sunny of afternoons; but to-morrow af- 
 ternoon, if the lady allowed — there was still 
 that pretty polite hesitation at any thing that 
 looked like intrusiveness — she would take Sun- 
 E 
 
64 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 ny and her Lizzie a walk, and show them all 
 that was to be seen. 
 
 Sunny's mamma not only allowed this — but 
 was glad of it. Little Nelly seemed a rather 
 grave and lonely child. She had no brothers 
 and sisters, she said, but lived with her aunts, 
 who were evidently careful over her. She 
 was a useful little body ; went many a mes- 
 sage to the village, and did various things 
 about the house, as a girl of ten can often do ; 
 but she was always neatly dressed, her hands 
 and face quite clean, and her pretty brown 
 hair, the chief prettiness she had, well combed 
 and brushed. And, above all, she never said 
 a rude or ugly word. 
 
 It was curious to see how Little Sunshine, 
 who, though not shy or repellent, is never af- 
 fectionate to strangers, and always declines ca- 
 resses, sa} r ing "she only kisses papa and mam- 
 ma," accepted Nelly's kiss almost immediate- 
 ly, and allowed her to make friends at once. 
 Nay, when bed-time arrived, she even invited 
 her to " come and see Sunny in her bath," a 
 compliment she only pays occasionally to her 
 chief favorites. Soon the two solitary chil- 
 dren were frolicking together, and the gloomy 
 little nursery — made up extempore out of a 
 back bedroom — ringing with their laughter. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 65 
 
 At last, fairly tired with her day's doings, 
 Sunny condescended to go to sleep. Her 
 mamma sat up for an hour or two longer, 
 writing letters, and listening to the child's soft 
 breathing through the open door, to the equal- 
 ly soft sough of the wind outside, and the faint 
 murmur of the stream, deep below in the glen. 
 Then she also went to rest. 
 
66 LITTLE S UNSHINE ' S HO LID A Y. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 NELLY turned out more and more of an 
 acquisition every day. Pretty as this 
 new place was, Little Sunshine was not quite 
 so happy as the week before. She had not so 
 many things to amuse her out-of-doors; and 
 in-doors she was kept more to her nursery than 
 she approved of or was accustomed to, being 
 in her own home mamma's little friend and 
 companion all day long. Now mamma was 
 often too busy to attend to her, and had to 
 slip away and hide out of sight ; for whenever 
 Sunny caught sight of her, the wail of "Mam- 
 ma, mamma, I want you I" was really sad to 
 hear. 
 
 Besides, she had another tribulation. In 
 the nearest house, a short distance down the 
 lane, lived six children whom she knew and 
 was fond of, and had come to Scotland on pur- 
 pose to play with. But alas ! one of them 
 caught the measles; and, Little Sunshine nev- 
 er having had measles, or any thing — in fact, 
 never having had a day's illness or taken a 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 67 
 
 close of physic in her life — the elders decided 
 that it was best to keep the little folks apart. 
 Mamma tried hard not to let Sunny find out 
 that her dear playfellows of old lived so near; 
 but one day these sharp little ears caught their 
 names, and from that time she 'was always 
 wanting to go and play with them, and espe- 
 cially with their " little baby." 
 
 "I want to see that little baby, mamma; 
 may Sunny go and cuddle the dear little 
 baby?" 
 
 But it was the baby which had the measles, 
 and some of the rest were not safe. So there 
 was nothing for it but to give orders to each 
 household that when they saw one another 
 they were to run away at once ; which they 
 most honorably did. Still it was hard for Sun- 
 ny to see her little friends — whom she recog- 
 nized at once, though they had not met for 
 eight months — galloping about, as merry as 
 possible, playing at " ponies," and all sorts of 
 things, while she was kept close to her Lizzie's 
 side and not allowed to go near them. 
 
 Thus, but for kind little Nelly, the child 
 would have been dull — at least, as dull as such 
 a sunshiny child* could well be — which was not 
 saying much. If she grows up with her pres- 
 ent capacity for enjoying herself, little Sunny 
 
68 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HO LID A Y. 
 
 will be a blessing wherever she goes : since 
 happy-minded people always make others hap- 
 py. Still, Nelly was welcome company, espe- 
 cially of afternoons. 
 
 The days passed on very much alike. Before 
 breakfast, Sunny always went a walk with her 
 mamma, holding hands, and talking like two 
 grown-up persons — about the baa-lambs, and 
 calves, and cows, which they met on their way 
 along the hill-side. It was a beautiful hill-side, 
 and every thing looked so peaceful in the early 
 morning. They seldom met any body ; except 
 once, when they were spoken to by a funny- 
 looking man, who greatly offended Sunny by 
 asking if she were a boy or girl, but added, 
 " It's a fine bairn, anyhow !" "Then he went 
 on to say how he had just come " frae putting 
 John M'Ewen in his coffin, ye ken; I'm gaun 
 to Glasgow, but I'll be back here o' Saturday. 
 Ay, ay, I'll be Iback o' Saturday ;" as if the as- 
 surance must be the greatest satisfaction to 
 Sunny and her mamma. Mamma thought he 
 must have been drunk; but no, he was only 
 foolish — a poor half-witted fellow, whom all the 
 neighborhood knew, and were good to. He 
 had some queer points. Among the rest, a 
 most astonishing memory. He would go to 
 church, and then repeat the sermon, or long bits 
 
LITTLE SUXSHLYE'S HOLIDAY. 69 
 
 of it, off by heart, to the first person he met. 
 Though silly, he was quite capable of taking 
 care of himself, and never harmed any body. 
 Every body, Nelly said, was kind to "'daft 
 John." Still, Sunny did not fancy him ; and 
 when she came home she told her papa a long 
 story about "that ugly man !" 
 
 She had great games with her papa now 
 and then, and was very happy whenever she 
 could get hold of him. B.ut her great compan- 
 ion was Nelly. From the minute Nelly came 
 out of school till seven o'clock — Sunny 's bed- 
 time — they were inseparable ; and the way the 
 big girl devoted herself to the little one, the 
 patience with which she submitted to all her 
 vagaries, and allowed herself to be tyrannized 
 over — never once failing in good-temper and 
 pleasantness — was quite pretty to see. They 
 played in the garden together; they went 
 walks; they gathered blackberries,- made them 
 into jam in a little saucer by the fire, and then 
 ate them up. With a wooden spade, and a 
 "luggie " to fill with earth, they used to go up 
 the hill-side, or down to the glen, sometimes 
 disappearing for so long that mamma was rath- 
 er unhappy in her mind, only Nelly was such 
 a cautious little person, that whenever she went 
 she was sure to bring her two charges home in 
 safety. 
 
70 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 One day, Nelly not being attainable, mam- 
 ma went with the "big child" and the little 
 one to the Dominie's Hole. 
 
 It was a real long walk, especially for such 
 tiny feet, that eighteen months ago could bare- 
 ly toddle alone: all across the field of the baa- 
 lambs, which always interested Sunny so much 
 that it; was- difficult to get her past them: she 
 wanted to play with them and " cuddle " them ; 
 and was much surprised when they invariably 
 ran away. However, she was to-day a little 
 consoled by mamma's holding her upon the 
 top of the stone dike at the end of the field, to 
 watch " the water running " between the trees 
 of the glen. 
 
 In Scotland water runs as I think it never 
 does in England — so loudly and merrily, so 
 fast and bright. Even when it is brown water 
 — as when coming over peat it often is — there 
 is a beauty about it beyond all quiet Southern 
 streams. Here, however, it was not colored, 
 but clear as crystal in every channel of the lit- 
 tle river, and it was divided into tiny channels 
 by big stones, and shallow, pebbly water- 
 courses, and overhanging rocks covered with 
 ferns, and heather, and mosses. Beneath these 
 were generally round pools, where the river 
 settled dark and still, though so clear that you 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 71 
 
 could easily see to the bottom, which looked 
 only two or three feet deep, when perhaps it 
 was twelve or fifteen. 
 
 The Dominie's Hole was one of these. You 
 descended to it by a winding path through the 
 glen, and then came suddenly out upon a shel- 
 tered nook surrounded by rocks, over which 
 the honeysuckles crept, and the birk or mount- 
 ain ash grew out of every possible cranny. 
 Down one of these rocks the pent-up stream 
 poured in a noisy little waterfall, forming below 
 a deep bathing-pool, cut in the granite — I think 
 it was granite — like a basin x with smooth sides 
 and edges. Into this pool, many years ago, the 
 poor young "Dominie," or school-master, had 
 dived, and striking his head against the bottom, 
 had been stunned and drowned. He was 
 found floating dead, in the lonely little pool, 
 which ever after bore his name. 
 
 A rather melancholy place, and the damp, 
 sunless chill of it made it still more gloomy, 
 pretty as it was. Little Sunshine, who can not 
 bear living in shadow, shivered involuntarily, 
 and whispered, a Mamma, take her I" as she al- 
 ways does in any doubtful or dangerous cir- 
 cumstances. So mamma was obliged to carry 
 her across several yards of slippery stones, green 
 with moss, that she might look up to the water- 
 
.72 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 fall, and down to the Dominie's Hole. She did 
 not quite like it, evidently, but was not actu- 
 ally frightened — she is such a very coura- 
 geous person whenever she is in her mamma's 
 arms. 
 
 When set down on her own two feet, the 
 case was different. She held by her mamma's 
 gown, looked at the noisy tumbling water with 
 anxious eyes, and seemed relieved to turn her 
 back upon it, and watch the half dozen merry 
 rivulets into which it soon divided, as they 
 spread themselves in and out over the shallow 
 channel of the stream. What charming little 
 baby rivers they were! Sunny and her- mam- 
 ma could have played among them for hours, 
 damming them up with pebbles, jumping over 
 them, floating leaves down them, and listening 
 to their ceaseless singing, and their dancing too, 
 with bubbles and foam gliding on their surface 
 like little fairy boats, till — pop !— all suddenly 
 vanished, and were seen no more. 
 
 It was such a thirsty place, too— until mam- 
 ma made her hand into a cup for the little girl, 
 and then the little girl insisted on doing the 
 same for mamma, which did not answer quite 
 the same purpose, being so small. At last 
 mamma took out of her pocket a letter (it was 
 a sad letter, with a black edge, but the child 
 
LITTLE SUN SHI WS H OLID A Y. 73 
 
 did not know that), and made .its envelope into 
 a cup, from which Sunny drank in the great- 
 est delight. Afterwards she administered it to 
 her mamma and her Lizzie, till the saturated 
 paper began to 'yield — its innocent little duty 
 was done. However, Sunny insisted on filling 
 it again herself, and was greatly startled when 
 the bright fierce-running water took it right 
 out of her hand, whirled it along for a yard or 
 too, and then -sunk it, soaked through, in the 
 first eddy which the stream reached. 
 
 Poor child ! she looked after her frail treas- 
 ure with eyes in which big tears — and Sunny's 
 tears, when they do come, are so very big! — 
 were just beginning to rise ; and her rosy 
 mouth fell at the corners, with that pitiful look 
 mamma knows well, though it is not often 
 seen. 
 
 "Never mind, my darling; mamma will 
 make her another cup out of the next letter 
 she has. Or, better still, she will find her own 
 horn cup, that has been to Scotland so often, 
 and gone about for weeks in mamma's pocket, 
 years ago. Now Sunny shall have it to drink 
 out of." 
 
 "And to swim? May Sunny have it to 
 swim?" 
 
 " No, dear, because, though it would not go 
 
74 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 down to the bottom like the other cup, it 
 might swim right away arid be lost, and then 
 mamma would be so sorry. No, Sunny can't 
 have it to swim, but she may drink out of it 
 as often as she likes. Shall we go home and 
 look for it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The exact truth, told in an intelligible and 
 reasonable way, always satisfies this reasonable 
 child, who has been accustomed to have every 
 prohibition explained to her, so far as was pos- 
 sible. Consequently, the sense of injustice, 
 which even very young children have, when 
 it is roused, never troubles her. She knows 
 mamma will give her every thing she can, and 
 when she does not, it is simply because she 
 can't, and she tells Sunny why she can't, when- 
 ever Sunny can understand it. 
 
 So they climbed contentedly up the steep 
 brae, and went home. 
 
 Nothing else happened here — at least to the 
 child. If she had a rather dull life, it was a 
 peaceful one. She was out-of-doors a great 
 deal, with Lizzie and Nelly of afternoons, with 
 her mamma of early mornings. Generally, 
 each day, the latter contrived to get a quiet 
 hour or two ; while her child played about the 
 garden steps, and she sat reading the newspa- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 75 
 
 per — the terrible newspaper ! When Sunny 
 has grown up a woman, she will know what a 
 year this year 1870 has been, and understand 
 how many a time, when her mamma was walk- 
 ing along with her, holding her little hand, and 
 talking about all the pretty things they saw, 
 she was thinking of other mothers and other 
 children, who, instead of running merrily over 
 sunshiny hill-sides, were weeping over dead 
 fathers, or dying miserably in burnt villages, or 
 starving day by day in besieged cities. This 
 horrible war, brought about, as war almost al- 
 ways is, by a few wicked, ambitious men, made 
 her feel half frantic. 
 
 One day especially — the day the Prussians 
 came and sat down before Paris, and began 
 the siege — Little Sunshine was playing about, 
 ' with her little wooden spade, and a "luggie" 
 that her papa had lately bought for her; filling 
 it with pebbles, and then digging in the garden- 
 beds, with all her small might. Her mamma 
 sat on the garden steps, reading the newspaper. 
 Sunny did not approve of this at all. 
 
 "Come and build me a house. Put that 
 down," pulling at the newspaper, " and build 
 Sunny a house. Please, mamma," in a very 
 gentle tone — she knows in a minute by mam- 
 ma's look when she has spoken too roughly — 
 
76 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 11 Please, mamma, come and build Sunny a. 
 house." 
 
 And getting no answer, she looked fixedly 
 at her mamma — then hugged her tight round 
 the neck, and began to sob for sympathy. 
 Poor lamb ! She had evidently thought only 
 little girls cried — not mammas at all. 
 
 The days ran on fast, fast; and it was time 
 for another move and another change in Little 
 Sunshine's holiday. Of course she did not 
 understand these changes; but she took them 
 cheerfully — she was the very best of little 
 travellers. The repeated packing had ceased 
 to be an interest to her ; she never wanted now 
 to jump upon mamma's gowns, and sit down 
 on her bonnets, by way of being useful ; but 
 still the prospect of going in a puff-puff was 
 always felicitous. She told Nelly all about it ; 
 and how she was afterwards to sail in a boat 
 with Maurice and Maurice's papa (Maurice was 
 a little playfellow, of whom more presently), 
 how they were to go fishing and catch big 
 salmon. 
 
 "Wouldn't you like to catch a big salmon?" 
 she asked Nelly, not recognizing in the least 
 that she was parting with her, probably never 
 to meet again in all their lives. But the elder 
 child looked sad and grave during the whole 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 77 
 
 of that day. And when for the last time Nel- 
 ly put her arms round Sunny, and kissed her 
 over and over again, Sunny being of course 
 just as merry as ever, and quite unconscious 
 that they were bidding one another good-bye, 
 it was rather hard for poor little Nelly. 
 
 However, the child did not forget her kind 
 companion. For weeks and even months af- 
 terwards, upon hearing the least allusion to 
 this place, Sunshine would wake up into sud- 
 den remembrance. " Where's Nelly ? I want 
 to see Nelly — I want Nelly to come and play 
 with me;" and look quite disappointed when 
 told that Nelly was far away, and couldn't 
 come. Which was perhaps as much as could 
 be expected of ttfree-years-old. 
 
 Always happy in the present, and fright- 
 ened at nothing so long as she was " close by 
 mamma," Little Sunshine took her next jour- 
 ney. On the way she staid a night at the sea- 
 side place where she had been taken before, 
 and this time the weather was kin'd. She 
 wandered with her Lizzie on the beach, and 
 watched the waves for a long time; then she 
 went in-doors, to play with some other little 
 children, and to pay a visit to the dear old 
 lady who had been ill, when she was here last. 
 Here I am afraid, she did not behave quite as 
 
78 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 well as she ought to have done — being tired 
 and sleepy; nor did she half enough value 
 the kind little presents she got ; but she will 
 some day,, and understand the difference be- 
 tween eighty years of age and three, and how 
 precious to a little child is the blessing of an 
 old woman. 
 
 Sunny went to bed rather weary and for- 
 lorn, but she woke up next morning and ran 
 in to papa and mamma, still in her night- 
 gown, with her little bare feet pattering along 
 the floor, looking as bright as the sunshine it- 
 self. Which was very bright that day — a 
 great comfort, as there was a ten hours' sea- 
 voyage before the little woman, who had nev- 
 er been on board a steamboat, and never trav- 
 elled so long at a time in all her life. She 
 made a good breakfast to start with, sitting at 
 table with a lot of grown-up people whose 
 faces were as blithe as her own, and behaving 
 very well, considering. Then came another 
 good-bye, of course unheeded by Little Sun- 
 shine, and she was away on her travels once 
 more. 
 
 But what happened to her next must be put 
 into a new chapter. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 79 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE pier Sunny started from was one near 
 the mouth of a large estuary or firth, 
 where a great many ships of all sorts are con- 
 stantly coming and going. Sometimes the 
 firth is very stormy, as on the first day when 
 she was there, but to-day it was smooth as 
 glass. The mountains round it looked half 
 asleep in a sunshiny haze, and upon the river 
 itself was not a single* ripple. The steamers 
 glided up and down in the distance as quietly 
 as swans upon a lake. You could just catch 
 the faint click-clack of their paddle-wheels, 
 and see the long trail of smoke following after 
 them, till it melted into nothing. 
 
 " Where's Sunny's steamboat? Sunny is 
 going a sail in a steamboat," chattered the lit- 
 tle girl ; who catches up every thing, some- 
 times even # the longest words and the queerest 
 phrases, nobody knows how. 
 
 Sunny's steamboat lay alongside the pier. 
 Its engines were puffing and its funnel smok- 
 ing; and when she came to the gangway she 
 looked rather frightened, and whispered, "Mam- 
 F . 
 
80 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 ma, take her," holding out those pathetic little 
 arms. 
 
 Mamma took her, and from that safe emi- 
 nence she watched every thing : the men loos- 
 ing the ropes from the pier, the engines mov- 
 ing, the sea-gulls flying about in little flocks, 
 almost as tame as pigeons. She was much 
 amused by these sea-gulls, which always fol- 
 low the steamers, seeming to know quite well 
 that after every meal on board they are sure 
 to get something. She called her Lizzie to 
 look at them — her Lizzie, who always sym- 
 pathizes with her in every thing. Now it was 
 not quite easy, as Lizzie. also had never been 
 on board a steamer before, and did not alto- 
 gether relish it. «* 
 
 'But she, too, soon grew content and happy, 
 for it was a beautiful scene. There was no dis- 
 tant view, the mountains being all in a mist of 
 heat, but the air was so bright and mild, with 
 just enough saltness in it to be refreshing, that 
 it must have been a very gloomy person who 
 did not enjoy the da}^. Little Sunslrine did to 
 the utmost. She could not talk, but became 
 absorbed in looking about her, endless wonder 
 at every thing she saw or heard shining in her 
 blue eyes. Soon she heard something which 
 brightened them still more. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 81 
 
 "Hark-, mamnyi! music ! Sunny hears mu- 
 sic." 
 
 It was a flute played on the lower deck, and 
 played exceedingly well. 
 
 Now this little girl has a keen sense of mu- 
 sic. Before she could speak, singing always 
 soothed her; and she has long been in the 
 habit of commanding extempore* tunes — "a 
 tune that Sunny never heard before," some- 
 times taking her turn to offer one. " Mamma, 
 shall I sing you a song — a song you never 
 heard before?" (Which certainly mamma nev- 
 er had.) She distinguishes tunes at once, and 
 is very critical over them. " Sunny likes it," 
 or " Sunny don't like it — it isn't pretty;" and 
 at tko sound of any sort of music she pricks 
 up her ears, and will begin to cry passionately 
 if not taken to listen. 
 
 This flute she went after at once. It was 
 played by a blind man. who stood leaning 
 against the stairs leading to the higher, deck, 
 his calm sightless face turned up to the daz- 
 zling sunshine. It could not hurt him; he 
 seemed even to enjoy it. There was nobody 
 listening, but he played on quite unconscious- 
 ly, one Scotch tune after another, the shrill, 
 clear, pure notes floating far over the sea. 
 Sunny crept closer and closer — her eyes grow- 
 
82 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 ing larger and larger with intense delight — 
 till the man stopped playing. Then she whis- 
 pered, 
 
 " Mamma, look at that poor man ! Somekin 
 wrong with his eyes." 
 
 Sunny has been taught that whenever there 
 is " somekin (something) wrong" with any 
 body — whe*i they are blind, or lame, or ugly, 
 or queer-looking, we are very sorry for them, 
 but we never notice it; and so, though she has 
 friends who can not run about after her, but 
 walk slowly with a stick, or even two sticks — 
 also other friends who only feel her little face, 
 and pass their hands over her hair, saying how 
 soft it is — mamma is never afraid of her mak- 
 ing any remark that could wound their feelings. 
 
 "Hush! the poor man can't see, but we 
 must not say any thing about it. Come with 
 mamma, and we will give him a penny." All 
 sorts of money are "pennies" to Sunny — 
 brown pennies, white pennies, yellow pennies ; 
 only she much prefers the brown pennies, be- 
 cause they are largest, and spin the best. 
 
 So she and mamma went up together to the 
 poor blind man, Sunny looking hard at him ; 
 and he was not pleasant .to look at, as his 
 blindness seemed to have been caused by 
 small-pox. But the little girl said not a word, 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 83 
 
 only put the "white " penny " into his hand, 
 and went away. 
 
 I wonder whether he felt the touch of those 
 baby fingers, softer than most. Perhaps ne 
 did, for he began to play again, the " Flowers 
 of the Forest," with a pathos that even mam- 
 ma in all her life had never heard excelled. 
 The familiar mountains, the gleaming river, 
 the "sunshiny" child, with her earnest face, 
 and the blind man playing there, in notes that- 
 almost spoke the well-known words, 
 
 " Thy frown canna fear me, thy smile canna cheer me, 
 For the flowers o' the forest are a' wede away." 
 
 It was a picture not easily to be forgotten. 
 
 Soon the steamer stopped at another pier, 
 where were waiting a number of people, ready 
 to embark on a large excursion-boat which all 
 summer long goes up and down the firth 
 daily, taking hundreds of passengers, and giv- 
 ing them twelve pleasant Jiours of sea air and 
 mountain breezes. She was called the "Iona," 
 and such a big boat as she was ! She had two 
 decks, with a saloon below. On the first deck, 
 the passengers sat in the open air, high up, so 
 as to see all the views ; the second was under 
 cover, with glass sides, so that they could still 
 see all about ; the third, lower yet, was the 
 
8i LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 cabin, where they dined. There was a ladies' 
 cabin, too, where a good many babies and chil- 
 dren, with their nurses and mammas, general- 
 ly staid all the voyage. Altogether, a most 
 beautiful boat, with plenty of play-places for 
 little folk, and comfortable nooks for elder 
 ones ; and so big, too, that as she came steam- 
 ing down the river, she looked as if she could 
 carry a townful of people. Indeed, this sum- 
 mer, when nobody has travelled abroad, owing 
 to the war, the "Iona" had carried regularly 
 several hundreds a day. 
 
 Sunny gazed with some amazement from the 
 pier, where she had disembarked, in her mam- 
 ma's arms. It is fortunate for Sunny that she 
 has a rather tall mamma, so that she feels safely 
 elevated above any crowd. This was a crowd 
 such as she had never been in before ; it jos- 
 tled and pushed her, and she had to hold very 
 tight round her mamma's neck ; so great was 
 the confusion, and sq difficult the passage across 
 the gangway to the deck of the " Iona." Once 
 there, however, she was as safe and happy as 
 possible, playing all sorts of merry tricks, and 
 wandering about the boat in all directions, 
 with her papa, or her Lizzie, or two young la- 
 dies who came with her, and were very kind 
 to her. But after a while these quitted the 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 85 
 
 * boat, and were watched climbing up a mount- 
 ain-side as cleverly as if they had been young 
 deer. Sunny would have liked to climb a 
 mountain too, and mamma promised her she 
 should some day. 
 
 She was now in the very heart of the High- 
 lands. There were mountains on all sides, re- 
 
 « fleeted everywhere in the narrow seas through 
 which the boat glided, ISTow and then came 
 houses and piers, funny little " baby " piers, at 
 which the "Iona" stopped and took up or set 
 down passengers, when "every body rushed to 
 the side to look on. Sunny rushed likewise; 
 she became so interested and excited in watch- 
 ing the long waves the boat left behind her 
 when her paddles began to move again, that her 
 mamma was sometimes frightened out of her 
 life that the child should overbalance herself, 
 and tumble in. Once or twice poor mamma 
 spoke so sharply that Sunny, utterly unaccus- 
 tomed to this, turned round in mute surprise. 
 But little girls, not old enough to understand 
 danger, do not know what terrors mammas go 
 through sometimes for their sakes. 
 
 It was rather a relief when Sunny became 
 very hungry, and the bag of biscuits and the 
 bottle of milk occupied her for a good while. 
 Then she turned sleepy. The little Maymie's 
 
86 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 apron being secretly produced, she, laughing a 
 little, began to suck it, under cover of mamma's 
 shawl. Soon she went to sleep, and lay for 
 nearly an hour in perfect peace, her eyes shut 
 upon mountains, sea, and sky ; and the sun 
 shining softly upon her little face and her gold 
 curls, that nestled close into mamma's shoul- 
 der. Such a happy child ! 
 
 Almost cruel it seemed to wake her up, but 
 necessary ; for there came another change. 
 The "Iona's" voyage was done. The next 
 stage of the journey was through a canal, where 
 were sights to be seen so curious that papa and 
 mamma were as much interested in them • as 
 the little girl, who was growing quite an old 
 traveller now. She woke up, rubbed her eyes, 
 and, not crying at all, was carried ashore, and 
 'into the middle of another crowd. There was 
 a deal of talking and scrambling, and rushing 
 about with bags and cloaks, then all the heav- 
 ier luggage was put into two gigantic wagons, 
 which four great horses walked away with, and 
 the passengers walked in a long string of twos 
 and threes, each after the others, for about a quar- 
 ter of a mile, till they came to the canal-side. 
 There lay a boat so big, that it could only go 
 forward and backward — I am sure if it had 
 wanted to turn itself round it could not possi- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. ' 87 
 
 bl y have done so ! On board of it all the peo- 
 ple began to climb. Very funny people some 
 of them were. 
 
 There was one big tall gentleman in a dress 
 Sunny had never seen before — a cap on his 
 head with a feather in it, a bag with furry tails 
 dangling from his waist, and a petticoat like a 
 little girl. He had also rather queer .shoes and 
 stockings, and when he took out from his ankle, 
 as it seemed, a shiny-handled sort of knife, and 
 slipped it back again, Sunny was very much 
 surprised. 
 
 "Mamma," she whispered, "what does that 
 gentleman keep his knife in his stocking for?" 
 A question to which mamma could only an- 
 swer " that she really didn't know. Perhaps 
 he hadn't got a pocket." 
 
 "Sunny will give' him her pocket — her 
 French pinafore with pockets in it, shall she ?" 
 
 Mamma thought the big Highlander might 
 not care for Sunny's pretty muslin pinafore, 
 with embroidery and Valenciennes lace, sewn 
 for her by loving, dainty hands ; and as the 
 boat now moved away, and he was seen stalk- 
 ing majestically off along the road, there was 
 no need to ask him the question. ] 
 
 For a little while the boat glided along the 
 smooth canal, so close to either side that you 
 
88 ■ LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 felt as if you could almost pluck at the bushes, 
 and ferns, and trailing brambles, with fast- 
 ripening berries, that hung over the water. On 
 the other side was a foot-road, where, a little 
 way behind, a horse was dragging, with a long 
 rope, a small, deeply-laden canal-boat, not pret- 
 ty like this one, which went swiftly and merri- 
 ly along by steam. But at last it came to a 
 stand, in front of two huge wooden gates which 
 shut the canal in, and through every crevice of 
 which the pent-in water kept spouting in tiny 
 cataracts. 
 
 " That's the first of the locks," said papa, 
 who had seen it all before, and took his little 
 girl to the end of the boat to show her the 
 wonderful sight. 
 
 She was not old enough to have it explained 
 or to understand what a fine piece of engineer- 
 ing work this canal is. It cuts across country 
 from sea to sea, and the land not being level, 
 but rising higher in the middle, and as you 
 know water will not run up a- hill-side and 
 down again, these locks had to be made. They 
 are, so to speak, boxes of water with double 
 gates at either end. The boat is let into them, 
 and shut in ; then the water upon which it 
 floats is gradually raised or lowered according 
 as may be necessary, until it reaches the level 
 
LITTLE S TJNSHINE ' 8 HOLIDA Y. 89 
 
 of the canal beyond the second gate, which is 
 opened and the boat goes in. There are eight 
 or nine of these locks within a single mile — a 
 very long mile, which occupies fully an hour. 
 So the captain told his passengers they might 
 get out and walk, which many of them did. 
 But Sunshine, her papa and mamma, were 
 much more amused in watching the great gates 
 opening and shutting, and the boat rising or 
 falling through the deep sides of the locks. 
 Besides, the little girl called it " a bath," and 
 expressed a strong desire to jump in and "swim 
 like a fish," with mamma swimming after her ! 
 So mamma thought it as well to hold her fast 
 by her clothes the whole time. 
 
 Especially when another interest came — 
 three or four little Highland girls running 
 alongside, jabbering gayly, and holding out 
 glasses of milk. Her own bottle being nearly 
 drained, Sunny begged for some ; and the ex- 
 traordinary difficulty papa had in stretching 
 over to get the milk without spilling it, and 
 return the empty glass without breaking it, 
 was a piece of fun more delightful than even 
 the refreshing draught. "Again!" she said, 
 and wanted the performance all repeated for 
 her private amusement. 
 
 She had now resumed her old tyranny over 
 
90 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 her papa, whom she pursued everywhere. He 
 could not find a single cornjer of the boat in 
 which to hide and read his newspaper quiet- 
 ly, without hearing the cry, "Where's my 
 papa? Sunny must go after papa," and there 
 was the little figure clutching at his. legs, 
 "Take her up in your arms! up in your own 
 arms I" To which the victim, not unwillingly, 
 consented, and carried her everywhere. 
 
 Little Sunshine's next great diversion was 
 dinner. It did not happen till late in the af- 
 ternoon, when she had gone through, cheerful- 
 ly as ever, another change of boat, and was 
 steaming away through the open sea, which, 
 however, was fortunately calm as a duck-pond, 
 or what would have become of this little per- 
 son ? 
 
 Papa questioned very much whether she 
 was not far too little a person to dine at the 
 cabin-table with all the other grown-up pas- 
 sengers, but mamma answered for her that she 
 would behave properly — she always did when- 
 ever she promised. For Sunny has the strong- 
 est sense of keeping a promise. Her one argu- 
 ment when wanting a thing, an argument she 
 knows never denied, is, " Mamma, you prom- 
 ised." And her shoe-maker, who once neg- 
 lected to send home her boots, has been im- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 91 
 
 mortalized in her memory as " Mr. James So- 
 and-So, who broke his promise." 
 
 So, having promised to be good, she gravely 
 took her papa's hand and walked with him 
 down the long cabin to. her place at the table. 
 There she sat, quite quiet, and very proud of 
 her position. She ate little, being too deeply 
 occupied in observing every thing around her. 
 And she talked still less, only whispering mys- 
 teriously to her' mamma once or twice, 
 
 " Sunny would like a potato, with butter on 
 it." "Might Sunny have one little biscuit — 
 just one?" 
 
 But she troubled nobody, spilt nothing, not 
 even her glass of water, though it was so big 
 that with both her fat hands she could scarcely 
 hold it; and said "Thank you" politely to a 
 gentleman who handed her a piece of bread. 
 In short, she did keep her promise, conducting 
 herself throughout the meal with perfect deco- 
 rum. But when it was over, I think she was 
 rather glad. 
 
 "Sunny may get down now?" she whis- 
 pered ; adding, " Sunny was quite good, she 
 was." For the little woman always likes to 
 have her virtues acknowledged. 
 
 And in re-mounting the companion-ladder, 
 rather a trial for her small legs, she looked at 
 
93 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 the steward, who was taking his money, and 
 observed to him in a confidential tone, " Sunny 
 has had a good dinner; Sunny liked it" — at 
 which the young man couldn't help laughing. 
 
 But every body laughs at Sunny, or w 7 ith 
 her — she has such an endless fund of enjoy- 
 ment in every thing. The world to her is one 
 perpetual kaleidoscope of ever-changing de- 
 lights. 
 
 Immediately after dinner she had a pleasure 
 quite new. Playing about the deck, she sud- 
 denly stopped and listened. 
 
 "Mamma, hark! there's music. May Sun- 
 ny go after the music?" And her little feet 
 began to dance rather than walk, as, pulling 
 her mamma by the hand, she " went after" a 
 German band that was plaj-ing at the other 
 end of the vessel. 
 
 Little Sunshine had never before heard a 
 band, and this was of wind instruments, played 
 very well, as most German musicians can play. 
 The music seemed to quiver all through her, 
 down to her very toes. And when the dance- 
 tune stopped, and her dancing feet likewise, 
 and the band struck up the beautiful " Wacht 
 am Rhein" — the Watch on the Rhine — (oh! 
 if its singers had only stopped there, defending 
 their fatherland, and not invaded the lands of 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 93 
 
 other people !) this little girl, who knew noth- 
 ing about French and Prussians, stood absorbed 
 • in solemn delight. Her hands were folded to- 
 gether (a trick she has), her face grew grave, 
 and a soul far deeper than three years old 
 looked out of her intent eyes. For when Sun- 
 ny is earnest, she is very earnest ; and when she 
 turns furious, half a dozen tragedies seem writ- 
 ten in her firm-set mouth, knitted brow, and 
 •flashing eyes. 
 
 She was disposed to be furious for a minute, 
 when her Lizzie tried' to get her away from the 
 music. But her mamma let her stay, so she 
 did stay close to the musicians, until the play- 
 ing was all done. 
 
 It was growiog late in the afternoon, near 
 her usual bed-time, but no going to bed was 
 possible. The steamboat kept ploughing on 
 through lonely seas, dotted with many islands, 
 larger or smaller, with high mountains on every 
 side, some of them sloping down almost to the 
 water's edge. Here and there was a solitary 
 cottage or farm-house, but nothing like a town 
 or village. The steamboat seemed to have the 
 whole world to itself — sea, sky, mountains — a 
 magnificent range of mountains ! behind which 
 the sun set in such splendor that papa and 
 mamma, watching it together, quite forgot for 
 
94 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 the time being the little person -who was not 
 old enough to care for sunsets. 
 
 When they looked up, catching the sound of 
 her laughter, there she was, in a state of the 
 highest enjoyment, having made friends, all of 
 her own accord, with two gentlemen on board, 
 who played with her and petted her extreme- 
 ly. One of them had just taken out of his 
 pocket a wonderful bird, which jumped out of 
 a box, shook itself, warbled a most beautiful' 
 tune, and then popped down in the box again ; 
 not exactly a toy for a* child, as only about 
 half a dozen have ever been made, and they 
 generally cost about a hundred guineas apiece. 
 
 Of course Sunny was delighted. She listen- 
 ed intently to the warble, and whenever the 
 bird popped down and hid itself again, she gave 
 a scream of ecstasy. But she can not enjoy 
 things alone. 
 
 "May mamma come and see it? Mamma 
 would like to see it, she would !" And, run- 
 ning back, Sunny drew her mamma, with al4 
 her little might, over to where the gentlemen 
 were sitting. . 
 
 They were very polite to the unknown lady, 
 and went over the performance once again for 
 her benefit. And they were exceedingly kind 
 to her little girl, showing a patience quite won- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 95 
 
 derful, unless, indeed, they had little girls of 
 their own. They tried pertinaciously to find 
 out Sunny's name, but she as persistently re- 
 fused to disclose it — that is, any thing more than 
 her Christian name, which is rather a peculiar 
 one, and whith she alwa} 7 s gives with great 
 dignity and accuracy, at full length. (Which, 
 should they really have little girls of their own, 
 and. should they buy this book for them and 
 read it, those two gentlemen will probably re- 
 member; nor think the worse of themselves 
 that their kindness helped to while away what 
 might otherwise have been rather dreary, the 
 last hour of the voyage — a very long voyage 
 for such a small traveller.) 
 
 It was ended at last. The appointed pier, a 
 solitary place where only one other passenger 
 was landed, stood out distinct in the last rays 
 of sunset. Once again the child was carried 
 across one of those shaky gangways — neither 
 frightened nor cross, and quite cheerful and 
 wide-awake still. Nay, she even stopped at 
 the pier-head, her attention caught bv- some 
 creatures more weary than herself. 
 
 Half a dozen forlorn sheep, their legs tied 
 
 together, and their heads rolling about, with the 
 
 most piteous expression in their open eyes, lay 
 
 together, waiting to be put on board. The 
 
 G 
 
96 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 child went up to them and stroked their 
 faces. 
 
 "Poor little baa-lambs, don't be so fright- 
 ened ; you won't be frightened, now Sunny has 
 patted you," said she, in her tenderest voice. 
 And then, after having walked a few yards, 
 
 "Sunny must go back. Please, mamma, 
 may Sunny go back to say good-bye to those 
 poor little baa-lambs." 
 
 But the baa-lambs had already been tossed 
 on board, and the steamer was away with them 
 into the dark. * 
 
 Into the dark^poor little Sunny had also to 
 go ; a drive of nine miles across country, 
 through dusky glens, and coming out by 
 loch sides, and under the shadow of great 
 mountains, above whose tops the stars were 
 shining. Only the stars, for there was no 
 moon, and no lamps to the carriage ; and the 
 driver, when spoken to, explained — in slow 
 Highland English, and in a mournful manner, 
 evidently not understanding the half of what 
 was said to him — that there were several miles 
 farther to go, and several hills to climb yet ; 
 and that the horse was lame, and the road not 
 as safe as it might be. A prospect which made 
 the elders of the party not perfectly happy, as 
 may well be imagined. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 07 
 
 Bat the child was as merry as possible, 
 though it was long past her tea-time and she 
 had had no tea, and past bed-time, yet there 
 was no bed to go to ; she kept on chattering 
 till it was quite dark, and then cuddled down, 
 making " a baby " of her mamma's hand — a 
 favorite amusement. And so she lay, the pic- 
 ture of peace, until the carriage stopped at the 
 welcome door, and there. stood a friendly group 
 with two little boys in front of it. After 
 eleven hours of travelling, Little Sunshine had 
 reached a shelter at last ! 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 SUNRISE among the mountains. Who 
 that has ever seen it can forget it? Sun- 
 ny's mamma never could. ' 
 
 Arriving here after dark, she knew no more 
 of the place than the child did. But the first 
 thing she did on waking next morning was to 
 creep past the sofa where Sunny lay — oh, so 
 fast asleep ! having had a good scream over- 
 night, as was natural after all her fatigues — 
 steal cautiously to the window, and look out. 
 
 Such a sight ! At the foot of a green slope, 
 or sort of rough lawn, lay the little loch so 
 often spoken of, upon which Sunny was to go 
 a-flshing and catch big salmon, with Maurice's 
 papa. Eound it was a ring of mountains, so 
 high that they seemed to shut out half the sk}^. 
 These were reflected in the water, so solidly 
 and with such a sharp clear outline, that one 
 could hardly believe it was only a reflection. 
 Above their summit was one mass of deep rose- 
 color, and this also was repeated in the loch, so 
 that you could not tell which was reddest, the 
 
LITTLE SUXSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 99 
 
 water or the sky. Every thing was perfectly 
 still ; not a ripple moved, not a leaf stirred, not 
 a bird was awake. An altogether new and 
 masric world. 
 
 Sunny was too much of a baby yet to care 
 for sunrise, or indeed for any thing just now, 
 except a good long sleep, so her mamma let her 
 sleep her fill ; and when she woke at last, she 
 was as bright as a bird. 
 
 Long before she was dressed, she heard down 
 stairs the voices of the five little boys who 
 were to be her companions. Their papa and 
 mamma having no objection to their names 
 being told, I give them, for they were five very 
 pretty names : Maurice, Phil, Eddie, Franky, 
 and Austin Thomas. The latter being the 
 youngest, though by no means the smallest or 
 thinnest, generally had his name in full, with 
 variations, such as Austin Tummas, or Austin 
 Tummacks. Maurice, too, was occasionally call- 
 ed Maurie — but not often, being the eldest, you 
 see. 
 
 He was seven, very small for his age, but 
 with a face almost angelic in its delicate beau- 
 ty. The first time Sunny saw him, a few 
 months before, she had seemed quite fasci- 
 nated by it, put her two hands on his shoulders, 
 and finally held up her mouth to kiss him — 
 
100 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 which she seldom does to any children, rather 
 preferring "grown-ups," as she calls them, for 
 playfellows. She had talked ever since of 
 Maurice, Maurice's papa, Maurice's boat, and es- 
 pecially of Maurice's "little baby," the only sis- 
 ter of the five boys. Yet when he came to greet 
 her this morning, she was quite shy, and would 
 not play with him or Eddie, or even Frariky, 
 who was nearer her own age; and when her 
 mamma lifted up Austin Thomas, younger 
 than herself, but much bigger in every wajr, 
 and petted him a little, this poor little woman 
 fell into great despair. 
 
 •" Don't kiss him. I don't want you to kiss 
 Austin Thomas !" she cried, and the passion 
 which can rise at times in her merry blue eyes 
 rose now. She clung to her mamma, almost 
 sobbing. 
 
 Of course this was not right, and, as I said 
 before, the little girl is not a perfect little girl. 
 She is naughty at times, like all of us. Still, 
 mamma was rather sorry for her. It was diffi- 
 cult for an only child, accustomed to have her 
 mamma all to herself, to tumble suddenly into 
 such a crowd of boys, and see that mamma 
 could be kind to and fond of other children 
 besides her own, as all mothers ought to be, 
 without taking away one atom from the spe- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 101 
 
 cial mother's love, which, no little people need 
 be jealous over. Sunny bore the trial pretty 
 well, on the whole. She did not actually cry 
 — but she kept fast hold of her mamma's 
 gown, and watched her with anxious eyes 
 whenever she spoke to any other child, and 
 especially to Austin Thomas. 
 
 The boys were very kind to her. Maurice 
 went and took hold of her hand, trying to talk 
 to her in his gentle way ; his manners were as 
 sweet as his face. Eddie, who was stronger 
 and rougher, and more boyish, wanted her to 
 go down with him to the pier — a small erec- 
 tion of stones at the shallow edge of the loch, 
 where two or tHree boats always lay moored. 
 Consequently the boys kept tumbling in and 
 out of them, and in and out of the water too, 
 very often — all day long. But the worst they 
 ever could get was a good wetting— ^except 
 Austin Thomas, who one day toddled in and 
 slipped down, and, being very fat, could not 
 pull himself up again ; so that, shallow as the 
 water was, he was very near being drowned. 
 But Maurice and Eddie were almost "water 
 babies" — so thoroughly at home in the loch 
 — and Eddie, though under six years old, could 
 already handle an oar. 
 
 " I can low " (row — he could not speak plain 
 
102 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 yet). " I once lowed grandpapa all across the 
 loch. Shall I low you and the little girl ?" 
 
 But mamma rather hesitated at accepting 
 the kind offer, and compromised the matter by 
 going down to the pier with Sunny in her 
 arms, to watch Eddie "low" — about three 
 yards out and back again-r— in a carefully-moor- 
 ed boat. Sunny immediately wanted to go 
 too, and mamma promised her she should, af- 
 ter breakfast, when papa was there to take 
 care of her. 
 
 So the little party went back to the raised 
 terrace in front of the house, where the sun 
 was shining so bright, and where Phil, who 
 was in delicate health, stood looking on with 
 his pale, quiet face — sadly quiet and grave for 
 such a child — and Franky, who was reserved 
 and shy, stopped a moment in his solitary play- 
 ing to notice the new-comer, but did not offer 
 to go near her. Austin Thomas, however, 
 kept pulling at her with his stout chubby arms, 
 but whether he meant caressing or punching, 
 it was difficult to say. Sunny opposed a dig- 
 nified resistance, and would not look at Austin 
 Thomas at all.. 
 
 " Mamma, I want to stop with you. May 
 Sunny stop with you?" implored she. " You 
 said Sunny should go in the boat with you?" 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 103 
 
 Mamma always does what she says, if she 
 possibly can, and besides, she felt a sympathy 
 for her lonely child, who had not been much 
 used to play with other children. So she kept 
 Sunny beside her till they went down together 
 — papa too — for their first row on the loch. 
 
 Such a splendid day ! Warm but fresh — how 
 could it help being fresh in that pure mountain 
 air, which turned Sunny's cheeks the color of 
 opening rose-buds, and made even papa and 
 mamma feel almost as young as she ? Big peo- 
 ple like holidays as well as little people, and it 
 was long since they had had a holiday. This 
 was the very perfection of one, when every 
 body did exactly as they liked: which con- 
 sisted chiefly in doing nothing from morning 
 till night. 
 
 Sunny was the only person who objected to 
 idleness. She must always be doing some- 
 thing. 
 
 " I want to catch fishes," said she, after hav- 
 ing sat quiet by mamma's side in the stern of 
 the boat for about three minutes and a half: 
 certainly not longer, though it was the first 
 time she had ever been in a boat in all her life, 
 and the novelty of her position sufficed to so- 
 ber her for just that length of time. " I want 
 to catch big salmon all by my own self." 
 
101 LITTLE SUNSHINE ' 8 HOLIDA Y. 
 
 A fishing-rod bad, just as a matter of cere- 
 mony, been put into the boat ; but as papa held 
 the two oars, and mamma the child, it was 
 handed over to Lizzie, who sat in the bow. 
 However, not a single trout offering to bite, it 
 was laid aside, and papa's walking-stick used 
 instead. This was shorter, more convenient, 
 and had a beautiful hooked handle which could 
 catch floating leaves. Leaves were much 
 more easily caught than fishes, and did quite 
 as well. 
 
 The little girl had now her heart's desire. 
 She was in a boat fishing. 
 
 " Sunny has caught a fish ! Such a big 
 fish !" cried she in her shrillest treble of delight, 
 every time that event happened. And it hap- 
 pened so often that the bench was soon quite 
 " soppy " with wet leaves. Then she gave up 
 the rod, and fished with her hands, mamma 
 holding her as tight as possible, lest she should 
 overbalance, rand be turned into a fish herself. 
 But water tuill wet ; and mamma could not save 
 her from getting her poor little hands all blue 
 and cold, and her sleeves soaked through. She 
 did not like this ; but what will not we endure, 
 even at two-and-three-quarters old, in pursuit 
 of some great ambition ? It was not till her 
 hands were numbed, and her pinafore dripping, 
 
LITTLE SUXSHIXE'S HOLIDAY. 105 
 
 that Sunny desisted from her fishing, and then 
 only because her attention was caught by some- 
 thing else even more attractive. 
 
 " What's that, mamma? What's that?" 
 , " Water-lilies." 
 
 Papa, busily engaged in watching his little 
 girl, had let the boat drift upon a shoal of them, 
 which covered one part of the loch like a float- 
 ing island. They were so beautiful, with their 
 leaves lying like green plates flat on the sur- 
 face of the water, and their white flowers ris- 
 ing up here and there like ornamental cups. 
 No wonder the child was delighted. 
 
 "Sunny wants a water-lily," said she, catch- 
 ing the word, though she had never heard it 
 before. " May Sunny have one, two water-lil- 
 ies ? Two water-lilies ! Please, mamma ?" 
 
 This was more easily promised than per- 
 formed, for, in spite of papa's skill, the boat al- 
 ways managed to glide either too far off, or too 
 close to, or right on the top of the prettiest 
 flowers; and when snatched at, they always 
 would dive down under water, causing the boat 
 to lurch after them in a way particularly un- 
 pleasant. At last, out of about a dozen unsuc- 
 cessful attempts, papa captured two expanded 
 flowers, ^id one bud, all with long stalks. 
 They were laid along the seat of the boat, 
 
106 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 which had not capsized, nor had any body 
 tumbled out of it — a thing that mamma con- 
 sidered rather lucky, upon the whole, and in- 
 sisted on rowing away out of the region of wa- 
 ter-lilies. 
 
 " Let us go up the canal, then," said papa, 
 whom his host had already taken there, to 
 show him a very curious feature of the loch. 
 
 Leading out of one end of it, and communi- 
 cating between it and a stream that fed it from 
 the neighboring glen, was a channel, called 
 " the canal." Unlike most Highland streams, 
 it was as still as a canal; only it was natural, 
 not artificial. Its depth was so great, that a 
 stick fifteen feet long failed to find the bottom, 
 which, nevertheless, from the exceeding clear- 
 ness of the water, could be seen quite plain, 
 with the fishes swimming about, and the peb- 
 bles, stones, or roots of trees too heavy to float, 
 lying as they had lain, undisturbed, year after 
 year. The banks, instead of shallowing off, 
 went sheer down, as deep as in the middle, so 
 that you could paddle close under the trees 
 that fringed them — gnarled old oaks, queerly 
 twisted rowans or beeches, and nut-trees with 
 trunks so thick and branches so wide-spread- 
 ing, that the great-great-grandfathers qf the glen 
 must have gone nutting there generations back.. 
 
LITTLE S UXSHIXE ' 8 HO LID A Y. 107 
 
 • Yet this year they were as fall as ever of 
 nuts, the gathering of which frightened mamma 
 nearly as much as the water-lilies. For papa, 
 growing quite excited, would stand up in the 
 boat and pluck at the branches, and would not. 
 see that nutting on dry land, and nutting in a 
 boat over fifteen or twenty feet of water, were 
 two very different things. Even the little 
 girl, imitating her elders, made wild snatches 
 at the branches, and it was the greatest relief 
 to mamma's mind when Sunny turned her at- 
 tention to cracking her nuts, which her sharp 
 little teeth did to perfection. 
 
 " Shall I give you one, mamma ? Papa 
 too?" And she administered them by turns 
 out of her mouth, which if not the politest was 
 the most 'convenient way. At last she began 
 singing-a song to herself, " Three little nuts all 
 together ! three little nuts all together ! " Look- 
 ing into the little girl's shut hands, mamma 
 found — what she in all her long life had nev- 
 er found but once before, and that was many, 
 many years ago — a triple nut — a "lucky" nut; 
 as great a rarity as a four-leaved shamrock. 
 
 "Oh, what a prize! will Sunny give it to 
 mamma?" (which she did immediately). "And 
 mamma will put it carefully by, and keep it 
 for Sunny till she is grown a big girl." 
 
108 LITTLE S UN SHINE ' 8 H OLID A Y. 
 
 " Sunny is a big girl now ; Sunny cracks 
 nuts for papa and mamma." 
 
 Nevertheless, mamma kept the triple nut, as 
 she remembered her own mamma keeping the 
 former one, when she herself was a little girl. 
 When Sunny grows a woman, she will find 
 both. 
 
 Besides nuts, there were here and there 
 along the canal-side long trailing brambles, 
 with such huge blackberries on them — black- 
 berries that seem to take a malicious pleasure 
 in growing where nobody can get at them. 
 Nobody could gather them except out of a 
 boat, and then with difficulty. The best of 
 them had after all to be left to the birds. 
 
 Oh, what a place this canal must have been 
 for birds in spring ! What safe nests might 
 be built in these overhanging tree&! what 
 ceaseless songs sung there from morning till 
 night! Now, being September, there were 
 almost none. Dead silence brooded over 
 the sunshiny crags and the motionless loch. 
 When, far up among the hills, there was heard 
 the crack of a gun — Maurice's papa's gun, for 
 it could of course be no other — the sound, 
 echoed several times over, was quite startling. 
 What had been shot — a grouse, a snipe, a wild 
 duck ? Perhaps it was a roe deer ? Papa was 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 109 
 
 all curiosity ; but mamma, who dislikes shoot- 
 ing altogether, either of animals or men, and 
 can not endure the sight of a gun, even un- 
 loaded, was satisfied with hearing it at a dis- 
 tance, and counting its harmless echoes from 
 mountain to mountain. 
 
 What mountains they were ! — standing in a 
 circle, gray, bare, silent, with their peaks far up 
 into the sky. Some had been climbed by the 
 gentlemen in this shooting lodge, or by Don- 
 ald, the keeper, but it was hard work, and some 
 had never been climbed at all. The clouds 
 and mists floated over them, arid sometimes, 
 perhaps, a stray grouse, or capercailzie, or 
 ptarmigan, paid them a visit, but that was all. 
 They were too steep and bare even for the roe 
 deer. Yet, oh ! how grand they looked, grand 
 and calm, like great giants, whom nothing 
 small and earthly could affect at all. 
 
 The mountains were too big, as yet, for Lit- 
 tle Sunshine. Her baby eyes did not take 
 them in. She saw them, of course, but she was 
 evidently much more interested in the nuts 
 overhead, and the fishes under water. And 
 when the boat reached "The Bower," she 
 thought it more amusing.still. 
 
 " The Bower," so called, was a curious place, 
 where the canal grew so narrow, and the trees 
 
110 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 so big, that the overarching boughs met in the 
 middle, forming a natural arbor — only of 
 water, not land — under which the boat swept 
 for a good many yards. You had to stoop 
 your head to . avoid being caught by the 
 branches, and the ferns and moss on either bank 
 grew so close to your hand, that you could 
 snatch at them as you swept by — which Lit- 
 tle Sunshine thought the greatest fun in the 
 world. 
 
 "Mamma, let me do it. Please, let Sunny 
 do it her own self." 
 
 To do a thing " all my own self" is always 
 a great attraction to this independent little per- 
 son, and her mamma allows it whenever possi- 
 ble. Still there are some things which mam- 
 mas may do, and little* people may not, and 
 this was one of them. It was obliged to be 
 forbidden as dangerous, and Little Sunshine 
 clouded over almost to tears. But she never 
 worries her mamma for things, well aware that 
 "No" means no, and "Yes," yes; and that 
 neither are subject to alteration. And the 
 boat being speedily rowed out of temptation's 
 way into the open loch again, she soon found 
 another amusement. • 
 
 On the locb, besides waterfowl, such as wild 
 ducks, teal, and the like, lived a colony of 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. ill 
 
 geese. They had once been tame geese belong- 
 ing to the farm, but they had emigrated, and 
 turned into wild geese, making their nests 
 wherever they liked, and bringing up their 
 families in freedom and seclusion. As to. 
 catching them like ordinary geese, it was hope- 
 less ; whenever wanted for the table they had 
 to be shot like game. This catastrophe had 
 not happened lately, and they swam merrily 
 about — a flock of nine large white, lively, in- 
 dependent birds, which could be seen far off, 
 sailing about like a fleet of ships on the quiet 
 waters of the loch. They would allow you to 
 row within a reasonable distance of them, just 
 so close and no closer, then off they flew in a 
 body, with a great screeching and flapping of 
 wings— geese, even wild geese, being rather 
 un wieldly birds. 
 
 Their chief haunt was a tiny island just at 
 the mouth of the canal, and there papa rowed, 
 just to have a look at them, for one was to 
 be shot for the Michaelmas dinner. (It never 
 was, by-the-bye, and, for all I know,' still sails 
 cheerfully upon its native loch.) 
 
 "Oh, the ducks — the ducks!" (Sunny calls 
 
 all water-birds ducks.) She clapped her hands, 
 
 and away they flew, right over her head, at 
 
 once frightening and delighting her; then 
 
 H ' " 
 
113 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 watched them longingly until they dropped 
 down again, and settled in the farthest corner 
 of the loch. 
 
 " Might Sunny go after them ? Might Sunny 
 •have a dear little duck to play with ?" 
 
 The hopelessness of which desire might have 
 made her turn melancholy again, only just 
 then appeared, rowing with great energy, bris- 
 tling with fishing-rods, and crowded with little 
 people as well as "grown-ups," the big boat. 
 It was so busy that it hardly condescended to 
 notice the little pleasure-boat with only idle 
 people sailing about in the sunshine, and doing 
 nothing more useful than catching water-lilies 
 and frightening geese. 
 
 Still the little boat greeted the large one with 
 an impertinent hail of " Ship ahoy ! what ship's 
 that ?" and took in a cargo of small boys, who, 
 as it was past one o'clock, were wanted home 
 to the nursery dinner. And papa rowed the 
 whole lot of them back to the pier, where 
 every body was safely landed. Nobody tum- 
 bled in, and nobody was drowned — which 
 mamma thought, on the whole, was a great 
 deal to be thankful for. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 113 
 
 CHAPTER .VII. 
 
 LIFE at the glen went on every day alike, 
 in the simplest, happiest fashion, a sort of 
 paradise of children, as in truth it was. Even 
 the elders lived like children ; and big people 
 and little people were together, more or less, 
 all day long. A thing not at all objectionable 
 when the children are good children, as these 
 were. 
 
 The boys were noisy, of course, and, after 
 the first hour of the morning, clean faces, hands, 
 and clothes became a difficulty quite insur- 
 mountable, in which their mother had to resign 
 herself to fate ; as the mamma of five boys, 
 running about wild in the Highlands, necessa- 
 rily must. But these were good, obedient, 
 gentlemanly little fellows, and, had it been pos- 
 sible to keep them clean and whole, which it 
 wasn't, very pretty little fellows too. 
 
 Of course they had a few boyish propensities, 
 which increased the difficulty. Maurice, for 
 instance, had an extraordinary love for all 
 creeping things, and especially worms. On 
 
114 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 the slightest prepense of getting bait to fish 
 with, "he would go digging for them, and stuff 
 them into his pockets ; whence, if you met him, 
 you were as likely as not to see one or two 
 crawling out. If you remonstrated he looked 
 unhappy, for Maurice really loved his worms. 
 He cherished them carefully, and did not in 
 the least mind their crawling oyer his' hands, 
 his dress, or his plate. Only unfortunately 
 other people did. When scolded, he put his 
 pets meekly aside, but always returned to 
 them with the same love as ever. Perhaps 
 Maurice may turn out a great naturalist some 
 day. 
 
 The one idea of Eddie's life was boats. He 
 was forever at the little pier waiting a chance 
 of a row, and always wanting to "Jow " some- 
 body, especially with " two oars," which he 
 handled uncommonly well for so small a child. 
 Fortunately for him, though not for his papa 
 and the salmon-fishers, the weather was dead 
 calm, so that it was like paddling on a duck- 
 pond; and the loch being siaallow just at the 
 pier, except a few good wettings, which he 
 seemed to mind as little as if he were a frog, 
 bright, brave, adventurous Eddie came to no 
 harm. 
 
 Nor Eranky, who imitated him admiringly 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 115 
 
 whenever he could. But Franky, who was 
 rather a reserved little man, and given to play- 
 ing alone, had, besides the pier, another favorite 
 play-place, a hollow cut out in the rock to re- 
 ceive the burn which leaped down from the 
 hill-side just behind the house. Being close to 
 the kitchen door, it was put to all sorts of do- 
 mestic uses, being generally full of pots and 
 pans, saucepans and kettles — not the most ad- 
 visable playthings, but Franky found them 
 charming. He also unluckily found out some- 
 thing else — that the hollow basin had an out- 
 let, through which any substance, sent swim- 
 ming down -the swift stream, swam away beau- 
 tifully for several yards, and then disappeared 
 underground. And the other end of this sub- 
 terraneous channel being in the loch, of course 
 it disappeared forever. .In. this way there van- 
 ished mysteriously all sorts of things — cups 
 and saucers, -toy's, pinafores, hats; which fast 
 Franky was discovered in the act of making 
 away with, watching them floating off with ex- 
 treme delight. It was no moral crime, and 
 hardly punishable, but highly inconvenient. 
 Sunny's beloved luggie, which had been car- 
 ried about with her for weeks, was believed to 
 have disappeared in this way, and, as it could 
 not sink, is probably now drifting somewhere 
 
116 LITTLE SUNSHIXE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 about on the loch, to the great perplexity of 
 the fishes. 
 
 Ltitle Phil, alas ! was too delicate to be mis- 
 chievous. He crept about in the sunshine, not 
 playing with any body, but just looking on at 
 the rest, with his pale, sweet, pensive face. He 
 was very patient and good, and he suffered 
 very much. One day, hearing his uncle at 
 family prayers pray that God would make 
 him better, he said sadty, "If He does, I wish 
 He would make haste about it." "Which was 
 the only complaint gentle pathetic little Phil 
 was ever heard to utter. 
 
 Sunny regarded him with some awe, as "the 
 poor little boy who was so ill." For herself, she 
 has never yet known what illness is ; but she 
 is very sympathetic over it in others. Any 
 body's being " not well," will at once make 
 her tender and gentle ; as she always was to 
 Phtf. He in his turn was very kind to her; 
 lending her his " music," which was the great- 
 est favor he could bestow or she receive. 
 
 This "music" was a box of infantile instru- 
 ments, one for each boy — trumpet, drum, fife, 
 etc., making a complete band, which a rash- 
 minded but affectionate aunt had sent them, 
 and with which they marched about all day 
 long, to their own great delight and the cor- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 117 
 
 responding despair of their elders. Phil, who 
 had an ear, would go away quietly* with his 
 "music" — a trumpet, I think it was — and play 
 it all by himself. But the others simply 
 marched about in procession, each making 
 the biggest noise he Qould, and watched by 
 Sunny with admiration and envy. Now and 
 then, out of great benevolence, one of the boys 
 would lend her his instrument, and nobody 
 did this so often as Phil, though of them all 
 he liked playing his music the best. The pic- 
 ture of him sitting on the door-step, with his 
 pale ringers wandering over' his instrument, 
 and his sickly face looking almost contented 
 as he listened to the sound, will long remain 
 in every body's mind. Sunny never objected 
 to her mamma's carrying him, as he often had 
 to be carried ; though he was fully six years 
 old. He was scarcely heavier than the little 
 girl herself. Austin Thomas would have made 
 two of him. 
 
 • Austin's chief peculiarity was this amiable 
 fatness. He tumbled about like a roly-poly 
 pudding, amusing every body, and offending 
 no one but Little Sunshine. But his persist- 
 ent pursuit of her mamma, whom he insisted 
 on calling "Danmamma" (grandmamma), and 
 following whenever he saw her, was more than 
 
118 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 the little girl could bear, and she used to knit 
 her brows and look displeased. However, 
 mamma never took any notice, knowing what 
 a misery to itself and all about it is a jealous 
 child. 
 
 Amidst these various amusements passed 
 the day. It began at 8 A.M., when Sunshine 
 and her mamma usually appeared on the ter- 
 race in front of the house. They two were 
 " early birds," and so they got " the worm" — 
 that is, a charming preliminary breakfast of 
 milk, bread and butter, and an egg, which they 
 usually ate on the door-step. Sometimes the 
 rest, who had had their porridge, the usual 
 breakfast of Scotch children — and very nice 
 it is, too — gathered round for a share ; which 
 it was pleasant to give them, for they waited 
 so quietly, and were never rough or rude. 
 
 Nevertheless, sometimes difficulties arose. 
 The tray being placed on the gravel, Maurice 
 often sat beside it, and his w r orms would crawl 
 out of his pocket and on to the bread and 
 butter. Then Eddie now and then- spilt the 
 milk, and Austin Thomas would fill the salt- 
 cellar with sand out of the gravel-walk, and 
 stir it all up together with the egg-spoon; a 
 piece of untidiness which Little Sunshine re- 
 sented extremely. 
 
LITTLE SUXSIIIXE'S HOLIDAY. 119 
 
 She had never grown reconciled to Austin 
 Thomas. In spite of his burly good-nature, 
 and his broad beaming countenance (which 
 earned him the nickname of " Cheshire," from 
 his supposed likeness to the Cheshire Cat in 
 "Alice's Adventures"), she refused to play 
 with him ; whenever he appeared, her eye fol- 
 lowed him with distrust and suspicion, and 
 when he said " Danmamma," she would con- 
 tradict him indignantly. 
 
 " It isn't grandmamma, it's my mamma, my 
 own mamma. Go away„ naughty boy!" If 
 he presumed to touch the said mamma, it was 
 always, "Take me up in your arms, in your 
 own arms " — -so as to prevent all possibility 
 of Austin Thomas's getting there. 
 
 But one unlucky day Austin tumbled down, 
 and, though more frightened than* hurt, cried 
 so much that, his own mamma being away, 
 Sunny's mamma took him and comforted him, 
 soothing him on her shoulder till he ceased 
 sobbing. This was more than human nature 
 could bear. Sunny did nothing at the time, 
 except pull frantically at her mamma's gown, 
 but shortly afterwards she and Austin Thomas 
 Were found by themselves, engaged in single 
 combat on the gravel walk. She had seized 
 him by the collar of his frock, and was kicking 
 
120 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 him with all her might, while he on his part 
 was pommelling at her with both his little fat 
 fists, like an infant prize-fighter. It was a 
 pitched battle, pretty equal on both sides ; and 
 conducted so silently, in such dead earnest, 
 that it would have been quite funny — if it had 
 not been so very wrong. 
 
 Of course, such things could not be allowed, 
 even in babies under three years old. Sunny's 
 mamma ran to the spot and separated the com- 
 batants by carrying off her own child right 
 away into the house. ( Sunny was so astonished 
 that she did not say a word. And when she 
 found that her mamma never said a word nei- 
 ther, but bore her along in total silence, she 
 was still more surprised. Her bewilderment 
 was at its height, when, shutting the bed-room 
 door, her mamma set her down, and gave 
 her — not a whipping: she objects to whip- 
 ping under any circumstances — but the se- 
 verest scolding the child had ever had in her 
 life. 
 
 When I say " scolding," I mean a grave sor- 
 rowful rebuke, showing how wicked it was to 
 kick any body, and how it grieved mamma 
 that her good little girl should be so exceed- 
 ingly naughty. Mamma grieved is a reproach 
 under which Little Sunny breaks down at 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 121 
 
 once. Her lips began to quiver ; she hung 
 her head sorrowfully. 
 
 " Sunny had better go into the cupboard," 
 suo-srested she. 
 
 DO 
 
 "Yes, indeed," mamma replied. "I think 
 the cupboard is the only place for such a 
 naughty little girl; go in at once." 
 
 So poor Sunshine crept solemnly into a large 
 press with sliding doors, used for hanging up 
 ■clothes, and there remained in silence and 
 darkness all the while her mamma was dress- 
 ing to go out. At last she put her head 
 through the opening. 
 
 " Sunny quite good now, mamma." 
 
 " Yery well," said .mamma, keeping with dif- 
 ficulty a grave countenance. " But will Sun- 
 ny promise never to kick Austin Thomas 
 again ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then she may come out of the cupboard 
 and kiss mamma." 
 
 Which she did, with a beaming face, as if 
 nothing at all had happened. But she did not 
 forget her naughtiness. Some days after, she 
 came up, and confidentially informed her mam- 
 ma, as if it were an act of great virtue, " Mam- 
 ma, Sunny 'membered her promise. Sunny 
 hasn't kicked the little boy again." • 
 
122 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 After the eight o'clock breakfast, Sunny, 
 her mamma, and the five little boys, generally 
 took a walk together, or sat telling stories in 
 front of the house, till the ten o'clock breakfast 
 of the elders. That over, the party dispersed 
 their several ways, wandering about by land 
 or water, and meeting occasionally, great folks 
 and small, in boats, or by hill-sides, or in-doors 
 at the children's one o'clock dinner — almost 
 the only time, till night, that any body ever 
 was in-doors. 
 
 Besides most beautiful walks for the elders, 
 there were, close by the house, endless play- 
 places for the children, each more attractive 
 than the other. The pier, on the loch was the 
 great delight ; but there was about a hundred 
 yards from the house a burn (in fact, burns 
 were always tumbling from the hill-side, wher- 
 ever you went), with a tiny bridge across it, 
 which was a charming spot for little people. 
 There usually assembled a whole parliament 
 of ducks, and hens, and chickens, quacking and 
 clucking and gobbling together; to their own 
 great content and that of the children, especial- 
 ly the younger ones. Thither came Austin 
 Thomas with his nurse Grissel, a thorough 
 Scotch lassie; and Sunny with her English 
 Lizzie ; and there the baby, the pet of all, tiny 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 123 
 
 "Miss Mary," a soft dainty cuddling thing of 
 six months old, used to be brought to lie and 
 sleep in the sunshine, watched by Little Sun- 
 shine with never-ending interest. She would 
 go anywhere with "the dear little baby." The 
 very intonation of her voice, and the expres- 
 sion of her eyes, changed as she looked at it — 
 for this little girl is passionately fond of babies. 
 Farther down the mountain -road was anoth- 
 er attractive corner, a stone dike, covered with 
 innumerable blackberries. Though gathered 
 daily, there were each morning more to gather, 
 and they furnished an endless feast for both 
 nurses and children. And really in this sharp 
 mountain air, the hungriness of both big and 
 little people must have been alarming. How 
 the house-mother ever fed her household, with 
 the only butcher's shop ten miles off, was mi- 
 raculous. For very often the usual resort of 
 shooting-lodges entirely failed : the game was 
 scarce, and hardly worth shooting, and in this 
 weather the salmon absolutely refused to be 
 caught. Now and then a mournful-looking 
 sheep was led up to the door, and offered for 
 sale alive, to be consumed gradually as mutton. 
 But when you have to eat an animal right 
 through, you generally get a little tired of him 
 at last. 
 
124 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 The food that never failed, and nobody ever 
 wearied of, was the trout ; large dishes of 
 which appeared, and disappeared, every morn- 
 ing at breakfast. A patient guest, who could 
 not go shooting, used to sit fishing for trout, 
 hour by hour, in the cheerfullest manner; 
 thankful for small blessings (of a pound or 
 a pound and a half at most), and always hop- 
 ing for the big salmon which he had travelled 
 three hundred miles to fish for, but which 
 never came. Each day, poor gentleman ! he 
 watched the dazzlingly bright sky, and catching 
 the merest shadow of a cloud, would say cour- 
 ageously, " It looks like rain ! Perhaps the 
 salmon may bite to-morrow." 
 
 Of afternoons, Sunny and her mamma gener- 
 ally got a little walk and talk alone together 
 along the hill-side road, noticing every thing, 
 and especially the Highland cattle, who went 
 about in family parties — the big bull, a splen- 
 did animal, black or tawny, looking very fierce, 
 but really offering no harm to any body ; half 
 a dozen cows, and about twice that number of 
 calves. Such funny little things' these were! 
 not smooth, like English calves, but with quan- 
 tities of shaggy hair hanging about them, and 
 especially over their eyes. Papa used to say 
 that his little girl, with her incessant activi- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 125 
 
 ty, and her yellow curls tossing wildly about 
 on her forehead, was very like a Highland 
 calf. 
 
 At first, Sunny was rather afraid of these 
 extraordinary beasts, so different from Southern 
 cattle ; but she soon got used to them, and as 
 even the big bull did nothing worse than look 
 at her, and pass her by, she would stand and 
 watch them feeding with great interest, and go 
 as close to them as ever she was allowed. 
 Once she even begged for a little calf to play 
 with, but as it ran away up the mountain-side 
 as active as a deer, this was not practicable. 
 And on the whole she liked the ducks and 
 chickens best. 
 
 And for a change she liked to walk with 
 mamma round the old-fashioned garden. What 
 a beautiful garden it was ! — shut in with high 
 walls, and sloping southward down to the loch. 
 No doubt many a Highland dame, genera- 
 tions back, had taken great pleasure in it, for 
 its fruit-trees were centuries old, and the box 
 edging of its straight smooth gravel walks 
 was a picture in itself. Also a fuchsia hedge, 
 thick with crimson blossoms, which this little 
 girl, who is passionately fond of flowers, could 
 never pass without begging for "a posie, to 
 stick in my little bosie," where it was kissed 
 
126 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 and " loved " until, generally .soon enough ! it 
 got broken and died. 
 
 Equally difficult was it to pass the apples 
 which lay strewn about under the long lines 
 of espaliers, where Maurice and Eddie were 
 often seen hovering about with an apple in 
 each hand, and plenty more in each pocket. 
 The Highland air seemed to give them unlim- 
 ited digestion, but Sunny's mamma had occa- 
 sionally to say to her little girl that quiet 
 denial, which caused a minute's sobbing, and 
 then, known to be inevitable, was submitted 
 to. 
 
 The child found it hard sometimes that lit- 
 tle girls might not do all that little boys may. 
 For instance, between the terrace and the pier 
 was a wooden staircase with a hand-rail ; both 
 rather old and rickety. About this hand-rail 
 the boys were forever playing, climbing up it 
 and sliding down it. Sunny wanted to do the 
 same, and one v day her mamma caught her 
 perched astride at the top, and preparing to 
 ."slidder" down to the bottom, in imitation of 
 .Eddie, who was urging her On with all his 
 might. This most dangerous proceeding for 
 little girls with frocks had to be stopped at 
 once ; mamma explaining the reason, and in- 
 sisting that Sunny must promise never to do 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 127 
 
 it again. Poor little woman, she was very 
 sad; but she did promise, and moreover she 
 kept her word. Several times mamma saw 
 her stand watching the boys with a mournful 
 countenance, but she never got astride on the 
 hand-rail again. Only once — a sudden conso- 
 lation occurred to her. 
 
 " Mamma, 'posing Sunny were some day to 
 grow into a little boy, then she might slide 
 down the ladder?" 
 
 "Certainly, yes!" answered mamma with 
 great gravity, and equal sincerity. In the mean 
 time she perfectly trusted her reliable child, 
 who never does any thing behind her back any 
 more than before her face. And she let her 
 clamber about as much as was practicable, up 
 and down rocks, and over stone dikes, and in 
 and out of burns, since, within certain limit- 
 ations, little girls should be as active as lit- 
 tle boys. And by degrees, Sunny, a strong, 
 healthy, energetic child, began to follow the 
 boys about everywhere. 
 
 There was a byre and a hay-house, where 
 the children were very fond of playing, climb- 
 ing up a ladder and crawling along the roof to 
 the ridge-tiles, along which Eddie would drag 
 himself astraddle from end to end, throwing 
 Sunny into an ecstasy of admiration. To climb 
 I 
 
128 LITTLE S UNSHINE ' S H OLID A T. 
 
 up to the top of a short ladder and be held 
 there, whence she could watch Eddie crawl- 
 like a cat from end to end of the byre, and 
 wait till he slided down the tiles again, was a 
 felicity for which she would even sacrifice the 
 company of " the dear little baby." 
 
 But after all, the pier was the great resort. 
 From early morning till dark, two or three of 
 the children were always to be seen there, 
 paddling in the shallows like ducks, with or 
 without shoes and stockings, assisting at every 
 embarkation or landing of the elders, and gen- 
 erally, by force of entreaties, getting — Eddie 
 especially — " a low " on their own account 
 several times a day. Even Sunny gradually 
 came to find such fascination in the water, and 
 in Eddie's company, that if her mamma had 
 not kept a sharp look-out after her, and given 
 strict orders that, without herself, Sunny was 
 never under any pretext to go on the loch 
 at all, the two children, both utterly fearless, 
 would certainly have been discovered sailing 
 away like the wise men of Gotham who " went 
 to sea in a bowl." Probably with the same 
 ending to their career ; that — 
 
 "If the bowl had been' stronger, 
 My song would have been longer!" 
 
 After Little Sunshine's holiday was done, mam- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 129 
 
 ma, thinking over the countless risks run, by 
 her own child and these other children, felt 
 thankful that they had all left this beautiful 
 glen alive. 
 
130 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 THE days sped so fast with these happy- 
 people, children and "grown-ups," as 
 Sunny calls them, that soon it was already 
 Sunday, the first of the only -two Sundays 
 they had to spend at the glen. Shall ,1 tell 
 about them both ? 
 
 These parents considered Sunday the, best 
 day in all the week, and tried to make it so ; 
 especially -to the children, whom, in order to 
 give the servants rest, they then took princi- 
 pally into their own hands. They wished, 
 that when the little folks grew up, Sunday 
 should always be remembered as a bright day, 
 a cheerful day, a day spent with papa and mam- 
 ma; when nobody had any work to do, and 
 every body was merry, and happy, and good. 
 Also clean, which was a novelty here. Even 
 the elders rather enjoyed putting on their best 
 clothes with the certainty of not getting them 
 wetted in fishing-boats, or torn with briers and 
 brambles on hill-sides. Church was not till 
 twelve at noon, so most of the party went a 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 131 
 
 leisurely morning stroll, and Sunny'spapa and 
 mamma decided to have a quiet row on the 
 loch, in a clean boat, all by their *two selves. 
 But, as it happened, their little girl, taking a 
 walk with her Lizzie, espied them afar off. 
 
 Faintly across the water came the pitiful 
 entreaty, "Papa! mamma! Take her. Take 
 her with you." And the little figure, running 
 as fast as her fat legs would carry her, was 
 seen making its way, with Lizzie running after, 
 to the very edge of the loch. 
 
 What heart would not have relented ? Papa 
 rowed back as fast as he could, and took her 
 in, her face quivering with delight, though the 
 big tears were still rolling down her cheeks. 
 But April showers do not dry up faster than 
 Sunny's tears. 
 
 No fishing to-day, of course. Peacefully 
 they floated down the loch, which seemed to 
 know it was Sunday, and to lie, with the hills 
 standing round it, more restful, mo.re sunshiny, 
 more beautiful than ever. Not a creature was 
 stirring ; even the cattle that always clustered 
 on a little knoll above the canal, made motion? 
 less pictures of themselves against the sky, as 
 if they were sitting or standing for their por- 
 traits, and would not move upon any account. 
 Now and. then, as the boat passed, a bird in 
 
132 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 the bushe's fluttered, but not very far off, and 
 then sat on a bough and looked at it, too fear- 
 less of harm to fly away. Every thing was so 
 intensely still, so unspeakably beautiful, that 
 when mamma, sitting in the stern, with her arm 
 fast round her child, began to sing "Jerusalem 
 the Golden," and afterwards that other beauti- 
 ful hymn, "There is a land of pure delight," 
 the scene around appeared like an earthly 
 picture of that Celestial Land. 
 
 They rowed homeward just in time to dress 
 for church, and start, leaving the little girl be- 
 hind. She was to follow by-and-by with her 
 Lizzie, and be taken charge of by mamma 
 while Lizzie went to the English service in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 This was the morning service, and in Gaelic. 
 With an English prayer-book it was just pos- 
 sible to follow it and guess at' it, though the 
 words were unintelligible. But they sounded 
 very sweet,. and so did the hymns; and the 
 small congregation listened as gravely and rev- 
 erently as if it had been the grandest church 
 in the world, instead of a tiny room, no bigger 
 than an ordinal sitting-room, with a commu- 
 nion-table of plain deal, and a few rows of deal 
 benches, enough to seat about twenty people, 
 there being about fifteen present to-day. Some 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 133 
 
 of them had walked several miles, as they did 
 every Sunday, and often, their good clergyman 
 said, when the glen was knee-deep in snow. 
 
 He himself spent his quiet clays among them, 
 winter and summer, living at a farm-house 
 near, and scarcely ever quitting his charge. A 
 lonelier life, especially in winter-time, it was 
 hardly possible to imagine. Yet he looked 
 quite contented, and so did the little congrega- 
 tion, as they listened to the short Gaelic sermon 
 (which, of course, was incomprehensible to the 
 strangers), then slowly went out of church and 
 stood hanging about on the dike-side in the 
 sunshine, till the second service should begin. 
 
 Yery soon, a few more groups were seen ad- 
 vancing towards church. There was Maurice, 
 prayer-book in hand, looking so good and gen- 
 tle and sweet, almost like a cherub in a picture ; 
 and Eddie, not at all cherubic, but entirely boy- 
 ish, walking sedately beside his papa ; Eddie 
 clean an.d tidy, as if he had never torn his 
 clothes or dirtied his face in all his life. Then 
 came the children's parents, papa and mamma 
 and their guests, and the servants of the house 
 following. While far behind, holding cautious- 
 ly by her Lizzie's hand, and rather alarmed at 
 her new position, was a certain little person, 
 who, as soon as she saw her own papa and 
 
134 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 mamma, rushed frantically forward to meet 
 them with a crj of irrepressible joy. 
 
 "Sunny wants to go to church! Sunny 
 would like to go to church with the little boys, 
 and Lizzie says she mustn't." 
 
 Lizzie was quite right, mamma explained ; 
 afraid that so small a child might only inter- 
 rupt the worship, which she could not possibly 
 understand. But she compromised the matter 
 by promising that Sunny should go to church 
 as soon as ever she was old enough, and to-day 
 she should stay with mamma, out in the sun- 
 shiny road, and hear the singing from outside. 
 
 Staying with mamma being always sufficient 
 felicity, she consented to part with the little 
 boys, and they passed on into church. 
 
 By this time the post, which always came in 
 between the services on Sundays, appeared, and 
 the post-master, who was also school-master and 
 beadle at the church — as the school, the church, 
 and the post-office, were all one building — be- 
 gan arranging and distributing the contents of 
 the bag. 
 
 Every body sat down by the roadside and 
 read their letters. Those who had no letters 
 opened the newspapers — those cruel newspa- 
 pers, full of the war. It was dreadful to read 
 them, in this lovely spot, on this calm Septem- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 135 
 
 ber Sunday, with the good pastor and his inno- 
 cent flock preparing to begin the worship of 
 Him who commanded " Love your enemies ; 
 bless them that curse you, do good to them 
 that hate you, and pray for them that despite- 
 fully use you and persecute you." 
 
 Oh, what a mockery " church " seemed ! You 
 little children can- never understand the pain 
 of it; but you will when you are grown up. 
 May God grant that in your time you may 
 never suffer as we have done, but. that His 
 mercy may then have brought permanent 
 peace; beating "swords into ploughshares, and 
 spears into pruning-hooks," for ever and ever, 
 throughout the world ! 
 
 Sunny's mamma prayed so with all her heart, 
 when, the newspaper laid down, she sat on a 
 stone outside the church, with her child play- 
 ing beside her ; far enough not to disturb the 
 congregation, but near enough to catch a good 
 deal of the service, which was the English 
 Episcopal service ; there being few Presbyteri- 
 ans in this district of Scotland, and not a Pres- 
 byterian church within several miles. 
 
 Presently a harmonium began to sound, and 
 a small choir of voices, singing not badly, began 
 the Magnificat. It was the first time in her life 
 that the little girl had heard choral music — sev- 
 
136 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 eral people singing all together. She pricked 
 up her ears at once, with the expression of in- 
 tense delight that all kinds of music bring 
 into her little face. 
 
 " Mamma, is that church ? Is that my papa 
 singing?" 
 
 Mamma did not think it was, but it might be 
 Maurice's papa, and his mamma, and Lizzie, 
 and several other people ; Sunny must listen 
 and be quite quiet, so as not to disturb them. 
 
 So she did, good little girl ! sitting as mute 
 as a mouse all the while the music lasted, and 
 when it ceased, playing about, still quietly ; 
 building pebble mountains, and gathering a 
 few withered leaves to stick on the top of them. 
 For she and her mamma were sitting on the 
 gravel walk of the school-master's garden ; be- 
 side a row of flower-pots, still radiant with ge- 
 raniums and fuchsias. They were so close to 
 the open window under which stood the pul- 
 pit, that mamma was able to hear almost every 
 word of the sermon — and a very good sermon 
 it was. 
 
 When it ended, the friendly little congrega- 
 tion shook hands and talked a little ; then sep- 
 arated, half going up and the other half down 
 the road. The minister came home to dinner, 
 walking between Maurice and Eddie, of whom 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 137 
 
 he was a particular friend. They always look- 
 ed forward to this weekly visit of his as one of 
 the Sunday enjoyments, for he was an admira- 
 ble hand at an oar, and Eddie, who tyrannized 
 over him in the most affectionate way, was 
 quite sure of " a low " when the minister was 
 there. 
 
 So, after dinner, all went out together, par- 
 ents and children, pastor and flock, in two 
 boats, and rowed peacefully up and down the 
 loch, which had fallen into the cool gray shad- 
 ow of evening, with the most gorgeous sunset- 
 light resting on the mountains opposite, and 
 gradually fading away, higher and higher, till 
 the topmost peaks alone kept the glow. But 
 that they did to the very last; like a good man 
 who, living continually in the smile of God, 
 lives cheerfully on to the end. 
 
 Sunny and her mamma watched the others, 
 but did not go out, it being near the child's 
 bedtime; and unless it is quite unavoidable, 
 nobody ever puts Sunny to bed, or hears her 
 say her little prayers, except her own mamma. 
 She went to sleep quite happily, having now 
 almost forgotten to ask for Tommy Tinker, or 
 any other story. The continual excitement of 
 her life here left her so sleepy that the minute 
 she had her little night-gown on, she was ready 
 
138 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 to shut her eyes and go off into what mamma 
 calls "the land of Nod." 
 
 A^d so ended, for her, the first Sunday in 
 the glen, which, in its cheerful, holy peace, was 
 a day long to be remembered. But the little 
 boys, Maurice and Eddie, who did not go to 
 bed so early > after the loch grew dark, and the 
 rowing was all done, spent a good long even- 
 ing in the drawing-room, climbing on the min- 
 ister's knees, and talking to him about boats 
 and salmon, and all sorts of curious things : he 
 was so very kind to little children. And after 
 the boys were gone to bed, he and the elder 
 folk gathered round the not unwelcome fire, 
 and talked too. This good minister, who spent 
 his life in the lonely glen, with very little mon- 
 ey — so little that rich Southern people would 
 hardly believe an educated clergyman could 
 live upon it at all — and almost no society, ex- 
 cept that of the few cottagers and farmers scat- 
 tered thinly up and down, yet kept his heart 
 up, and was cheerful and kindly, ready to help 
 old and young, rich and poor, and never com- 
 plaining of his dull life, or any thing else — this 
 gentleman, I say, was a pattern to both great 
 folk and small. 
 
 The one only subject of discontent in the 
 house, if any body could feel discontent in such 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 139 
 
 a pleasant place and amid such happy circum- 
 stances, was the continued fine weather. While 
 the sky remained unclouded, and the loch as 
 smooth as glass, no salmon would bite. They 
 kept jumping up in the liveliest and most pro- 
 voking way; sometimes you could see their 
 heads and shoulders clean out of water, and 
 of course they looked bigger than any salmon 
 ever seen before. Yainly did the master of 
 the house and his guests go after them when- 
 ever there was the least cloud on the sky, and 
 coax them to bite with the most fascinating 
 flies and most alluring hooks : they refused to 
 take the slightest notice of either. Only trout, 
 and they not big ones, ever allowed themselves 
 to be caught. 
 
 The children and mammas, delighting in the 
 warm sunshiny weather, did not grieve much, 
 but the gentlemen became quite low in their 
 spirits, and at last, for their sakes, and especial- 
 ly for the sake of that one who only cared for 
 fishing, and had come so far to fish, the whole 
 household began to watch the sky, and with 
 great self-sacrifice to long for a day — a whole 
 day — of good, settled, pelting rain. 
 
 And on the Monday following this bright 
 Sunday, it seemed likely. The morning was 
 rather dull, the sunshiny haze which hung over 
 
140 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 the mountains melted away, and they stood 
 out sharp and dark and clear. Towards noon, 
 the sky clouded over a little — a very little ! 
 Hopefully the elders sat down to their four 
 o'clock dinner, and by the time it was over a 
 joyful cry arose, . 
 
 " It's raining ! it's raining !" 
 
 Every body started up in the greatest de- 
 light. " Now we shall have a chance of a sal- 
 mon !" cried the gentlemen, afraid to hope too 
 much. Nevertheless, they hastily put on their 
 great-coats, and rushed down to the pier, armed 
 with a rod apiece, and with Donald the keep- 
 er to row them; because if they did hook a 
 salmon, Eddie explained, they would want 
 somebody to "low" the boat, and follow the 
 fish wherever he went. Eddie looked very 
 unhappy that he himself had not this duty, of 
 which he evidently thought he was capable. 
 But when his father told him he could not go, 
 he obeyed, as he always did. He was very 
 fond of his father. 
 
 The three boys, Maurice, Eddie, and Franky 
 — Phil, alas ! was too ill to be much excited, 
 even over salmon-fishing — resigned themselves 
 to fate, and made the best of things by climb- 
 ing on the drawing-room table, which stood in 
 front of the window, and thence watching the 
 
BUNNY'S MAMMA TELLING STORIES. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 141 
 
 boat as it moved slowly up and down the gray 
 loch, with the four motionless figures sitting 
 in it — sitting contentedly soaking. The little 
 boys, Eddie especially, would willingly have 
 sat and soaked* too, if allowed. 
 
 At length, as some slight consolation, and 
 to prevent Eddie's dangling his legs out at the 
 open window, letting in the wind and the rain, 
 and running imminent risk of tumbling out, 
 twenty feet or so, down to the terrace below, 
 Sunny's mamma brought a book of German 
 pictures, and proposed telling stories out of 
 them. 
 
 They were very funny pictures, and have 
 been Little Sunshine's delight 'for many 
 months. So she, as the owner, displayed 
 them proudly to the rest, and it having been 
 arranged with some difficulty how six pairs 
 of eyes could look over the same book, the 
 party arranged themselves thus: Sunny's 
 mamma sat on the hearth-rug, with her own 
 child on her lap, Austin Thomas on one side, 
 and Phil on the other ; while Maurice, Eddie, 
 and Franky managed as well as they could to 
 look over her shoulders. There was a general 
 sense of smothering and huddling up, like a 
 sparrow's nest when the young ones are grow- 
 ing a little too big : but every body appeared 
 K 
 
142 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 bappy. Now and then, Sunshine knitted her 
 brows fiercely, as she can knit them on occa- 
 sion, when Austin Thomas came crawling too 
 close upon her mamma's lap, with his intru- 
 sively affectionate " Danmamma," but no open 
 quarrel broke out. The room was so cosy 
 and bright with fire-light, and every body was 
 so comfortable, that they had almost forgotten 
 the rain outside, also the salmon-fishing, when 
 the door suddenly opened, and in burst. the 
 cook. 
 
 Mary was a kind, warm-hearted Highland 
 woman, always ready to do any thing for any 
 body, and particularly devoted to the children. 
 Gaelic was 'easier to her than English always, 
 but now she was so excited that she could 
 hardly get out her words. 
 
 " Master's hooked a salmon ! He's been cry- 
 ing" (calling) "on Neil to get out another boat 
 and come to him. It must be' a very big sal- 
 mon, for he is playing him up and down the 
 loch. They've been at it these ten minutes 
 and more. 
 
 Mary's excitement affected the mistress, who 
 laid down her baby. " Where are they ? Has 
 any body seen them ?" 
 
 " Any body, ma'am ? Why every body's 
 down at the shore looking at them. The min- 
 
LITTLE S UNSHINE • 8 HO LID A 7". 143 
 
 ister too ; he was 'passing, and stopped to 
 see." 
 
 As a matter of course, cook evidently 
 thought. Even a minister could not pass by 
 such an interesting sight. Nor did she seem 
 in the least surprised when the mistress sent 
 for her water-proof cloak, and, drawing the 
 hood over her head, went deliberately out 
 into the pelting rain, Maurice and Franky fol- 
 lowing. As for Eddie, at the first mention of 
 salmon, he had been off like a shot, and was 
 now seen standing on the very edge of the pier, 
 gesticulating with all his might for somebody 
 to take him into a boat. Alas ! in vain. 
 
 Never was there such an all-absorbing sal- 
 mon. As Mary had said, the whole house- 
 hold was out watching him and his proceed- 
 ings. The baby, Austin Thomas, Sunny, and 
 Sunny's mamma, were left alone, to take care 
 of one another. 
 
 These settled down again in front of the 
 fire, and Sunny, who had been a little bewil- 
 dered by the confusion, recovered herself, and, 
 not at all alive to the importance of salmon- 
 fishing, resumed her entreating whisper. 
 
 " 'Bout Grerman pictures, mamma ; tell me 
 'bout German pictures." 
 
 And she seemed quite glad to go bacjc to 
 
144 LITTLE SUNSHINE ' S HOLIDA Y. 
 
 her old ways ; for this little girl likes nothing 
 better than ^snuggling into her mamma's lap, 
 on the hearth rug, and being told about Ger- 
 man pictures. 
 
 They came to her all the way from Germany 
 as a present from a kind German friend, and 
 some of them are very funny. They make 
 regular stories, a story on each page. One is 
 about a little greedy boy, so like a pig, that at 
 last being caught with a sweetmeat by- an old 
 witch, she turns him into a pig in reality. He 
 is put into a sty, and just about to be killed, 
 when his sister comes in to save him with a 
 fairy rose in her hand ; the witch falls back, 
 stuck through with her own carving-knife, 
 and poor piggy-wiggy, touched by the magic 
 rose, turns into a little boy again. Then there 
 is another page, '"bout effelants," as Sunny 
 calls them — a papa elephant and a baby ele- 
 phant taking a walk together. They come 
 across the first Indian railway, and the papa 
 elephant, who has never seen a telegraph wire 
 before, is very angry at it and pulls it down 
 with his trunk. Then there comes whizzing 
 past a railway - train, which makes him still 
 more indignant, as he does not understand it 
 at all. He talks very seriously on the subject 
 to his little son, who listens with a respectful 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. , 145 
 
 air. Then, determined to put an end to such 
 nuisances, this wise papa elephant marches 
 right in front of the next train that passes. 
 He does not stop it, of course, but it stops him, 
 cutting him up into little pieces, and throwing 
 him on either side the line. At which the little 
 elephant is so frightened that you see him tak- 
 ing to his heels, very solid heels too, and run- 
 ning right away. 
 
 Sunny heard this story* for the hundredth 
 time, delighted as ever, and then tried to point 
 out to Austin Thomas which was the papa 
 "effelant" and which the baby "effelant." 
 But Austin Thomas's more infantile capacity 
 did not take it in ; he only "scrumpled" the 
 pages with, his fat hands, and laughed. There 
 might soon have been an open war if mamma 
 had not soothed her little girl's wounded feel- 
 ings by the great felicity of taking off her 
 shoes and stockings, and letting her warm her 
 little feet by the fire, while she lay back on 
 her mamma's lap, sucking her Maymie's apron. 
 
 The whole group were in this state of per- 
 fect peace : outside it had grown dark, and 
 mamma had stirred the fire and promised to 
 begin a quite new story, when the door again 
 opened and Eddie rushed in. Maurice and 
 Frankie followed, wet, of course, to the skin — ■ 
 
146 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 for each left a little pool of water behind him 
 wherever he stood — but speechless with ex- 
 citement. Shortly after, up came the three 
 gentlemen, likewise silent, but not from excite- 
 ment at all 
 
 "But where's the salmon?" asked Sunny's 
 mamma. "Pray let us see the salmon." 
 
 Maurice's papa looked as solemn as— what 
 shall I say ? the renowned Buff, when he — 
 
 ' ' Strokes his face with a sorrowful grace, 
 And delivers his staff to the next place." 
 
 He delivered his— no, it was not a stick but 
 a " tommy " hat, all ornamented with fishing- 
 flies, and dripping with rain, to any body that 
 would hang it up, and sank into a chair, saying 
 mournfully, 
 
 " You can't see the salmon." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because he's at the bottom of the loch. 
 He got away." 
 
 "Got away!" 
 
 " Yes, after giving us a run of a full hour." 
 
 "An hour and five minutes by my watch," 
 added Sunny's papa, who looked as dejected 
 as the other two. Though no salmon-fisher, 
 he had been so excited by the sport that he 
 had sat drenched through and through, in the 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 147 
 
 stern of the boat, and afterwards declared " he 
 didn't know it had rained." 
 
 " Such a splendid fish he was — twenty-five 
 pounds at least." 
 
 11 Twenty," suggested some one, who was put 
 down at once with scorn. 
 
 " Twenty-five, I am certain, for he rose sev- 
 eral times, and I saw him plain. So did Don- 
 ald. Oh, what a fish he was ! And he bit 
 upon a trout-line ! To think that we should 
 have had that one trout-line with us, and he 
 chose it. It could hardly hold him, of course. 
 He required the tenderest management. We 
 gave him every charice" (of being killed, poor 
 fish!) " The minute he was hooked, I threw 
 the oars to Donald, who pulled beautifully, 
 humoring him up and down, and you should 
 have seen the dashes he made! He was so 
 strong — such a big fish !" 
 
 "Such a big fish!" echoed Eddie, who stood 
 listening with open mouth and eyes that grad- 
 ually become as melancholy as his father's. 
 
 "And, as I said, we played him for an 'hour 
 and five minutes. He was getting quite ex- 
 hausted, and I had just called to Neil to row 
 close and put the gaff under him, when he 
 came up to the surface — I declare, just as if he 
 wanted to have a stare at me — then made a 
 
148 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 sudden dart, right under the boat. No line 
 could stand that, a trout-line especially." 
 
 "So he got away?" 
 
 "Of course he did, with my hook in his 
 mouth, the villain ! I dare say he has it there 
 still." 
 
 It did occur to Sunny's mamma that the fish 
 was fully as uncomfortable as the fisherman, 
 but she durst not suggest this for the world. 
 Evidently, the salmon had conducted himself 
 in a most unwarrantable manner, and was wor- 
 thy of universal condemnation. 
 
 Even after the confusion had a little abated, 
 and the younger children were safely in bed, 
 twenty times during tea he was referred to in 
 the most dejected manner, and his present po- 
 sition angrily speculated upon — whether he 
 would keep the hook in his mouth for the re- 
 mainder of his natural life, or succeed in rub- 
 bing it off among the weeds at the bottom of 
 the loch. 
 
 " To be sure he will, and be just as cheerful 
 as ever, the wretch ! Oh that I had him — hook 
 and all ! For it was one of my very best flies." 
 
 " Papa, if you would let me ' low ' you in the 
 boat, while you fished, perhaps he might come 
 and bite again to-morrow ?" 
 
 This deep diplomatic suggestion of Eddie's 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 149 
 
 did not meet with half the success it deserved. 
 Nobody noticed it except his mother, and she 
 only smiled. 
 
 "Well!" she said, trying to cheer up the 
 mournful ^company. " Misfortunes can't be 
 helped sometimes. It is sad. Twenty-five 
 pounds of fish : boiled, fried into steaks, kip- 
 pered. Oh dear ! what a help in the feeding 
 of the household!" 
 
 " Yes," said the patient gentleman, who, be- 
 ing unable to walk, could only sit and fish, and, 
 having come all the way from London to 
 catch a salmon, had never yet had a bite ex- 
 cept this one. " Yes, twenty -five pounds at 
 two shillings the pound — Billingsgate price 
 now. That makes two-pound-ten of good En- 
 glish money gone to the bottom of the loch !" 
 
 Every body laughed at this practical way of 
 putting the matter, and the laugh a little raised 
 the spirits of the gentlemen. Though still they 
 mourned, and mourned, looking as wretched 
 as if they had lost their whole families in the 
 loch, instead of that unfortunate — or fortunate 
 — salmon. 
 
 "It isn't myself I care for," lamented Mau- 
 rice's papa. " It's you others. For I know 
 you will have no other chance. The rain will 
 clear off — it's clearing off now, into a beautiful 
 
150 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 starlight night. To-morrow will be another 
 of those dreadfully sunshiny days. Not a fish 
 will bite, and you will have to go home at the 
 week's end — and there's that salmon lying 
 snugly in his hole, with my hqpk in his 
 mouth !" 
 
 " Never mind," said the patient gentleman, 
 who, though really the most to be pitied, bore 
 his disappointment better than any body. 
 " There's plenty of fish in the loch, for I've 
 seen them every day jumping up ; and some- 
 body will catch them, if I don't. After all, 
 we had an hour's good sport with that fellow 
 to-day — and it was all the better for him that 
 he got away." 
 
 With which noble sentiment the good man 
 took one of the boys on his knee — his godson, 
 for whom he was planning an alliance with 
 his daughter, a young lady of four-and-a-half, 
 and began discussing the settlements he ex- 
 pected — namely, a large cake on her side, and 
 on the young gentleman's, at least ten salmon 
 out of the loch, to be "sent in a basket to Lon- 
 don. With this he entertained both children 
 and parents, so that every body grew merry as 
 usual, and the lost salmon fell into the catego- 
 ry of misfortunes over which the best dirge is 
 the shrewd Scotch proverb, " It's nae use greet- 
 ing ower spilt milk." 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 151 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE forebodings of the disappointed sal- 
 mon-fishers turned out true. That wet 
 Monday was the first and last day of rain, for 
 weeks. Scarcely ever had such a dry season 
 been known in the glen. Morning after morn- 
 ing the gentlemen rowed out in a hopeless 
 manner, taking their rods with them, under a 
 sky cloudless and hot as June : evening after 
 evening, if the slightest ripple arose, they went 
 out again, and floated about lazily in the gor- 
 geous sunset, but not a salmon would bite. 
 Fish after fish, each apparently bigger than 
 the other, kept jumping up, sometimes quite 
 close to the boat. Some must have swum un- 
 der the line and looked at it, made an exami- 
 nation of the fly and laughed at it, but as for 
 swallowing it, Oh dear, no ! Not upon any ac- 
 count. 
 
 What was most tantalizing, the gardener, 
 going outf one day, without orders, and with 
 one of his' master's best lines, declared he had 
 
152 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 booked a splendid salmon ! As it got away, 
 and also carried off the fry, a valuable one, 
 perhaps it was advisable to call it a salmon, 
 but nobody quite believed this. It might 
 have been only a large trout. 
 
 By degrees, as salmon-fishing, never plenti- 
 ful, became hopeless, and game scarcer than 
 ever, the gentlemen waxed dull, and began to 
 catch at the smallest amusements. They grew 
 as excited as the little boys over nutting-par- 
 ties, going in whole boat-loads to the other side 
 of the loch, and promising to bring home large 
 bags of nuts for winter consumption, but some- 
 how the nuts all got eaten before the boats 
 reached land. 
 
 The clergyman was often one of the nutting- 
 party. He knew every nook and corner of the 
 country round, was equally good at an oar or 
 a fishing-rod, could walk miles upon miles 
 across the mountains, and scramble over rocks 
 as light as a deer. Besides, he was so kind to 
 children, and took such pleasure in pleasing 
 them, that he earned their deepest gratitude, 
 as young things understand gratitude. But 
 they are loving, any how, to those that love 
 them, and to have those little boys climbing 
 over him, and hanging about him, and teasing 
 him on all occasions to give them " a low," 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 153 
 
 was, I dare say, sufficient reward for the good 
 minister. 
 
 Sunny liked him too, very much, and was 
 delighted to go out with him. But there was 
 such dangerous emulation between her and the 
 boys in the matter of "fishing" for dead 
 leaves, with a stick, which involved leaning- 
 over the boat's side, and snatching at them 
 when caught, and mamma got so many frights, 
 that she was not sorry when the minister an- 
 nounced thai; every nut-tree down the canal 
 had been " harried " of its fruit, and hencefor- 
 ward people must content themselves with dry 
 land and blackberries. 
 
 This was not an exciting sport, and one day 
 the gentlemen got so hard up for amusement 
 that they spent half the morning in watching 
 some gymnastics of Maurice and Eddie, which 
 consisted in climbing up to their papa's shoul- 
 der and sitting on his head. . (A proceeding 
 which Sunny admired so, that she never rested 
 till she partly imitated it by " walking up 
 mamma as if she was a tree," which she did 
 at last like a little acrobat.) 
 
 Children and parents became quite interest- 
 ed in their mutual performances; every body 
 laughed a good deal, and forgot to grumble at 
 the weather, when news arrived that a photog- 
 
154 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 rapher, coming through the glen, had stopped 
 at the house, wishing to know if the family 
 would like their portraits taken. 
 
 Now, any body, not an inhabitant, coming 
 through the glen, was an object of interest in 
 this lonely place. But a photographer ! Mau- 
 rice's papa caught at the idea enthusiastically. 
 
 " Have him in, by all means. Let us see his 
 pictures. Let us have ourselves done in a 
 general group." 
 
 "And the children," begged their mamma. 
 "Austin Thomas has never been properly 
 taken, and baby not at all. I must have a por- 
 trait of baby." 
 
 "Also," suggested somebody, "we might as 
 well take a portrait of the mountains. They'll 
 sit for it quiet enough ; which is more than 
 can be said for the children, probably." 
 
 It eertainly was. Never had a photographer 
 a more hard-working morning. No blame to 
 the weather, which (alas, for the salmon-fish- 
 ers !) was perfect as ever ; but the difficulty of 
 catching the sitters, and arranging them, and 
 keeping them steady, was enormous. 
 
 First, the servants all wished to be taken ; 
 some separately, and then in a general group, 
 which was arranged beside the kitchen door, 
 the scullery being converted into a " dark 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 155 
 
 room " for the occasion. One after the other, 
 the maids disappeared, and re-appeared full- 
 dressed, in the most wonderful crinolines and 
 chignons, but looking not half so picturesque 
 as a Highland farm-girl, who, in her woollen 
 striped petticoat and short gown, with her dark 
 red hair knotted up behind, sat on the wall of 
 the yard, contemplating the proceedings. 
 
 The children ran hither and thither highly 
 delighted, except Franky and Austin Thomas, 
 who were made to suffer a good deal, the latter 
 being put into a stiff white pique frock, braid- 
 ed with black braid, which looked exactly as 
 if some one had mistaken him for a sheet of 
 letter-paper and begun to write upon him ; 
 while Franky, dressed in his Sunday's best, 
 with his hair combed and face clean, was in an 
 aggravating position for his ordinary week-day 
 amusements. He consoled himself by running 
 in and out among the servants, finally sticking 
 himself in the centre of the group, and being 
 depicted there, as natural as life. 
 
 A very grand picture it was, the men-serv- 
 ants being in front — Highland men always 
 seem to consider themselves superior beings, 
 and are seen lounging about and talking, while 
 the women are shearing, or digging, or hoeing 
 potatoes. The maids stood in a row behind, 
 
156 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 bolt upright, smiling as bard as they could, 
 and little Franky occupied the foreground, 
 placed between the gardener's knees. A very 
 successful photograph, and worthy of going 
 down to posterity, as doubtless it will. 
 
 Now for the children. The baby, passive in 
 an embroidered muslin frock, came out, of 
 course, as a white mass with something resem- 
 bling a face at the top ; but Austin Thomas 
 was a difficult subject. He wouldn't sit still, 
 no, not for a minute, but kept wriggling about 
 on the kitchen chair that was brought for him, 
 and looked so miserable in his stiff frock, that 
 his expression was just as if he were going to 
 be whipped, and didn't like it at all. 
 
 In vain Franky, who always patronized and 
 protected his next youngest brother in the 
 tenderest way, began consoling him, "Never 
 mind, sonnie" — that was Franky's pet name for 
 Austin — " they shan't hurt you. I'll take care 
 they don't hurt you." 
 
 Still, the great black thing, with the round 
 glass eye fixed upon him, was too much for 
 Austin's feelings. He wriggled, and wriggled, 
 and never would his likeness have been taken 
 at all — at least, that morning — if somebody had 
 not suggested "a piece." Off flew Mary the 
 cook, and brought back the largest "piece" — 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 157 
 
 bread with lots of jam upon it — that ever little 
 Scotchman revelled in. Austin took it, and, 
 being with great difficulty made to understand 
 that he must pause in eating now and then, 
 the photographer seized the happy moment, 
 and took him between his mouthfuls, with 
 Franky keeping guard over him the while, lest 
 any body did him any harm. And a very 
 good picture it is, though neither boy is quite 
 handsome enough, of course. No photographs 
 ever are. 
 
 Little Sunshine, meanwhile, had been deeply 
 interested in the whole matter. She was quite 
 an old hand at it, having herself sat for her 
 photograph several times. 
 
 " Would you like to see my likenesses?" she 
 kept asking any body or every body; and 
 brought down the whole string of them, de- 
 scribing them one by one : " Sunny in her 
 mamma's arms, when she was a little baby, 
 very cross;" "Sunny just going to cry;" 
 " Sunny in a boat ;" " Sunny sitting on a 
 chair;" "Sunny with her shoes and stockings 
 off, kicking over a basket;" and lastly (the 
 little show-woman always came to this with 
 a scream of delight), "That's my papa and 
 mamma, Sunny's own papa and mamma, both 
 together !" 
 
158 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 Though, then, she had not been in the least 
 afraid of the camera, but, when the great glass 
 eye looked at her, looked steadily at it back, 
 still she did not seem to like it now. She 
 crept beside her mamma and her Lizzie, look- 
 ing on with curiosity, but keeping a long way 
 off, till the groups were done. 
 
 There were a few more taken, in one of 
 which Sunny stood in the door-way in her 
 Lizzie's arms. And her papa and mamma, 
 who meanwhile had taken a good long walk 
 up the hill-road, came back in time to figure 
 in two rows of black dots on either side of a 
 shady road, which were supposed to be por- 
 traits of the whole party. The mountains op- 
 posite also sat for their likenesses — which must 
 have been a comfort to the photographer, as 
 they at least could not "move." But, on the 
 whole, the honest man made a good morning's 
 work, and benefited considerably thereby. 
 
 Which was more than the household did. 
 For, as was natural, the cook being dressed so 
 beautifully, the dinner was left pretty much to 
 dress itself. Franky and Austin Thomas suf- 
 fered so much from having on their best 
 clothes that they did not get over it for ever 
 so long. And Sunny, too, upset' by these ir- 
 regular proceedings, when taking a long prom- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 159 
 
 ised afternoon walk with, ber papa, was as 
 cross as such a generally good little girl could 
 be : insisting on being carried the whole way, 
 and carried only by her mamma. And though, 
 as mamma often says, " She wouldn't sell her 
 for her weight in gold," she is a pretty consid- 
 erable weight to carry on a warm afternoon. 
 
 Still the day had passed pleasantly away, 
 the photographs were all- done, to remain as 
 memorials of the holiday, long after it was 
 ended. In years to come, when the children 
 are all men and women, they may discover 
 them in some nook or other, and try to sum- 
 mon up faint recollections of the time. Oh ! 
 if Little Sunshine might never cry except to 
 be carried in mamma's arms ! and Austin 
 Thomas find no sorer affliction in life than sit- 
 ting to be photographed in stiff white clothes ! 
 But that can not be. They must all bear 
 their burdens, as their parents did. May God 
 take care of them when we can do it no more ! 
 
 The week had rolled by — weeks roll by so 
 fast ! — and it was again Sunday, the last Sun- 
 day at the glen, and just such another as be- 
 fore ; calm, still, sunshiny : nothing but peace 
 on earth and sky. Peace ! when far away be- 
 yond the circle of mountains within which par- 
 ents and children were enjoying such inno- 
 
160 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 cent pleasures, such deep repose, there was go- 
 ing on, for other parents and children, the ter- 
 rible siege of Paris. Week bj week, and day 
 by day, the Germans were closing in round the 
 doomed city, making ready to destroy by fire, 
 or sword, or famine — all sent by man's hand, 
 not God's — hundreds, thousands of innocent 
 enemies. Truly, heaven will have been well 
 filled, and earth well emptied during the year 
 1870. 
 
 What a glorious summer it was, as to weath- 
 er, will long be remembered in Scotland. Even 
 up to this Sunday, the 2d of October, the air 
 was balmy and warm as June. Every body 
 gathered outside on the terrace, including the 
 forlorn salmon-fishers, whose last hope was 
 now extinguished, for the patient gentleman, 
 and Sunny's papa, too, were to leave next 
 morning. And the fish jumped up in the 
 glassy loch, livelier than ever, as if they were 
 having a special jubilee in honor of their foe's 
 departure. 
 
 He sat resigned and cheerful, smoking his 
 cigar, and protesting that, with all his piscatory 
 disappointments, this was the loveliest place he 
 had ever been in, and that he had spent the 
 pleasantest of holidays ! There he was left to 
 enjoy his last bit of the mountains and loch in 
 
LITTLE SUNSHIXE'S HOLIDAY. 1G1 
 
 quiet content, while every body else went to 
 church. 
 
 Even Little Sunshine. For her mamma 
 and papa had taken counsel together whether 
 it was not possible for her to be good there, so 
 as at least to be no hindrance to other people's 
 going, which was as much as could be expect- 
 ed for so small a child. Papa doubted this, 
 but mamma pleaded for her little girl, and 
 promised to keep her good if possible. She 
 herself had a great desire that the first time 
 ever Sunny went to church should be in this 
 place. 
 
 So they had a talk together,. mamma and 
 Sunny, in which mamma explained that Sun- 
 ny might go to church, as Maurice and Eddie 
 did, if she would sit quite quiet, as she did at 
 prayers, and promise not to speak one word, 
 as nobody ever spoke in church excepting the 
 minister. She promised, this little girl who 
 has such a curious feeling about keeping a 
 promise, and allowed herself to be dressed 
 without murmuring — nay, with a sort of dig- 
 nified pride — to "go to church." She even 
 condescended to have her gloves put on, al- 
 ways a severe trial; and never was there a 
 neater little figure, all in white from top to toe, 
 with a white straw hat, as simple as possible, 
 
162 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 and the yellow- curls tumbling down from un- 
 der it. As she put. her little hand in her mam- 
 ma's and they two started together, somewhat 
 in advance of the rest, for it was a long half- 
 mile for such baby-feet, her mamma involun- 
 tarily thought of a verse in a poem she learnt 
 when she herself was a little girl : 
 
 "Thy dress was like the lilies, 
 
 And thy heart was pure as they; 
 One of God's holy angels, 
 Did walk with me that day." 
 
 Only Sunny was not an angel, but an ordinary 
 little girl. A good little girl generally, but 
 capable of being naughty sometimes. She 
 will have to try hard to be good every day 
 of her life, as we all have. Still, with her 
 sweet grave face, and her soft pretty ways, 
 there was something of the angel about her 
 this day. 
 
 Her mamma tried to make her understand, 
 in a dim way, what "church" meant— that it_ 
 was saying " thank you!" to God, as mamma 
 did continually ; especially for His giving her 
 her little daughter. How He lived up in the 
 sky, and nobody saw Him, but He saw every 
 body; how He loved Little Sunshine, just as 
 her papa and mamma loved her, and was glad 
 when she was good, and grieved when she was 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 163 
 
 naughty. This was all the child could possi- 
 bly take in, and even thus much was doubt- 
 ful ; but she listened, seeming as if she com- 
 prehended a small fragment of the great mys- 
 tery which even we parents understand so lit- 
 tle. Except that when we look at our chil- 
 dren, and feel how dearly we love them, how 
 much we would both do and sacrifice for them, 
 how if we have to punish them it is never in 
 anger but in anguish and pain, suffering twice 
 as much ourselves the while — then we can 
 faintly understand how He who put such love 
 into us, must Himself love infinitely more, and 
 meant us to believe this, when He called Him- 
 self our Father. Therefore it was that through 
 her papa's and mamma's love Sunny could best 
 be taught her first dim idea of God. 
 
 She walked along very sedately, conversing 
 by the way, and not attempting to dart from 
 side to side, after one object or another, as this 
 butterfly child always does on a week-day. 
 But Sunday, and Sunday clothes, conduced ex- 
 ceedingly to proper behavior. Besides, she 
 felt that she was her mamma's companion, and 
 was proud accordingly. Until, just before 
 reaching the church, came a catastrophe which 
 certainly could not have happened in any other 
 church-going walk than this. 
 
164 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 A huge, tawny-colored bull stood in the 
 centre of the road, with half a dozen cows and 
 calves behind him. They moved away, feed- 
 ing leisurely on either side the road, but the 
 bull held his ground, looking at mamma and 
 Sunny from under his shaggy brows, as if he 
 would like to eat them up, 
 
 "Mamma, take her!" whispered the poor lit- 
 tle girl, rather frightened, but neither crying 
 nor screaming. 
 
 Mamma popped her prayer-book in her 
 pocket, dropped her parasol on the ground, 
 and took up her child on her left arm, leaving 
 the right arm free. A fortnight ago she would 
 have been alarmed, but now she understood 
 the ways of these Highland cattle, and that 
 they were not half so dangerous as they looked. 
 Besides, the fiercest animal will often turn be- 
 fore a steady, fearless human eye. So they 
 stood still, and faced the bull, even Sunny 
 meeting the creature with a gaze as firm and 
 courageous as her mamma's. He stood it for a 
 minute or so, then he deliberately turned tail, 
 and walked up the hill-side. 
 
 "The big bull didn't hurt Sunny! He 
 wouldn't hurt little Sunny, would he, mam- 
 ma !" said she, as they walked on together. 
 She has the happiest conviction that no crea- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 1C5 
 
 fore in the world would ever be so unkind as 
 to hurt Sunny. How 'should it — when she is 
 never unkind to any living thing? When the 
 only living thing that ever she saw hurt — a 
 wasp that crept into the carriage, and stung 
 Sunny on her poor little leg, and her nurse 
 was so angry that she killed it on the spot — 
 caused the child a troubled remembrance. 
 She talked, months afterwards, with a grave 
 countenance, of "the wasp that "was obliged to 
 be killed, because it stung Sunny." 
 
 She soon looked benignly at the big bull, now 
 standing watching her from the hill-side, and 
 wanted to play with the little calves, who still 
 staid feeding near. She was also very anx- 
 ious to know if they were going to church 
 too ? But before the question — a rather puz- 
 zling one — could be answered, she was over- 
 taken by the rest of the congregation, including 
 Maurice and Eddie, with their parents. The 
 two boys only smiled at her, and walked into 
 church, so good and grave that Sunny was im- 
 pressed into preternatural gravity too. When 
 the rest were seated, she, holding her mamma's 
 hand, walked quietly in as if accustomed to it 
 all, and joined the congregation. 
 
 The seat they chose was, for precaution, the 
 one nearest the door, and next to u the pauper," 
 
166 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 •an old man who alone of all the inhabitants of 
 the glen did not work, but received parish re- 
 lief. He was just able to come to church, but 
 looked as if he had " one foot in the grave," as 
 people say (whither, indeed, the other foot soon 
 followed, for the poor old man died not many 
 weeks after this Sunday). He had a wan, 
 wearjr, but uncomplaining face ; and as the 
 rosy child, with her bright curls, her fair fresh 
 cheeks, and plump round limbs, sat down upon 
 the bench beside him, the two were a strange 
 and touching contrast. 
 
 Never did any child behave better than Lit- 
 tle Sunshine, on this her first going to church. 
 Yes, even though she soon caught sight of her 
 own papa, sitting a few benches off, but afraid 
 to look at her lest she should misbehave. 
 Also of Maurice's papa and mamma, and of 
 Maurice and Eddie themselves, not noticing 
 her at all, and behaving beautifully. She saw 
 them, but, faithful to her promise, she did not 
 speak one word, not even in a whisper to mam- 
 ma. She allowed herself to be lifted up and 
 down, to sit or stand as the rest did, and when 
 the music began she listened with an ecstasy 
 of pleasure on her little face ; but otherwise 
 she conducted herself as well as if she had been 
 thirteen, instead of not quite three years old. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 167 
 
 Once only, when the prayers were half through, 
 and the church was getting warm, she gravely 
 took off her hat and laid it on the bench be- 
 fore her — sitting the rest of the service with 
 her pretty curls bare — but that was all. 
 
 Daring the sermon she was severely tried. 
 Not by its length, for it was fortunately short, 
 and she sat on her mamma's lap, looking fixed- 
 ly into the face of the minister, as pleased with 
 him in his new position as when he was row- 
 ing her in the boat, or gathering nuts for her 
 along the canal bank. All were listening, as 
 attentive as possible, for every body loved him, 
 Sundays and week-days ; and even Sunny her- 
 self gazed as earnestly as if she were taking in 
 every word he said — when her quick little 
 eyes were caught by a new interest — a small, 
 shaggy Scotch terrier, who put his wise-look- 
 ing head inquiringly in at the open door. 
 
 Oh, why was the church door left open ? 
 No doubt, so thought the luckless master of 
 that doggie! He turned his face away; he 
 kept as quiet as possible, hoping not to be dis- 
 covered ; but the faithful animal was too much 
 for him. In an ecstasy of joy, the creature 
 rushed in and out and under several people's 
 legs, till he got to the young man who owned 
 him, and then jumped upon him in unmistak- 
 
168 
 
 able recognition. Happily, he did not bark; 
 indeed, bis master, turning red as a peony, beld 
 bis band over tbe creature's mouth. 
 
 "What was to be done? If he scolded the 
 dog, or beat him, there would be a disturbance 
 immediately ; if he encouraged or caressed him, 
 the loving beast would have begun — in fact, 
 he did slightly begin — a delighted whine. 
 All the perplexed master could do was to keep 
 him as quiet as circumstances allowed, which 
 he managed somehow by setting his foot on 
 the wildly-wagging tail, and twisting his fin- 
 gers in one of the long ears, the dog resisting 
 not at all. Quite content, if close to his mas- 
 ter, the faithful beast snuggled down, amusing 
 himself from time to time by gnawing first a 
 hat, and then an umbrella, and giving one 
 small growl as an accidental footstep passed 
 down the road; but otherwise behaving as 
 as well as any body in church. The master, 
 too, tried to face out his difficulty, and listen 
 as if nothing was the matter ; but I doubt he 
 rather lost the thread of the sermon. 
 
 So did Sunny's mamma for a few minutes. 
 Sunny is so fond of little doggies, that she ful- 
 ly expected the child to jump from her lap, 
 and run after this one ; or, at least, to make a 
 loud remark concerning it, for the benefit of 
 
LITTLE SUXSHIXE'S HOLIDAY. 169 
 
 • 
 
 the congregation generally. But Sunny evi- 
 dently remembered that "nobody spoke in 
 church ;" and possibly she regarded the dog's 
 entrance as a portion of the service, for she 
 maintained the most decorous gravity. She 
 watched him, of course, with all her eyes ; and 
 once she turned with a silent appeal to her 
 mamma to look too, but said not a word. The 
 little terrier himself did not behave better than 
 she, to the very end of the service. 
 
 It ended with a beautiful hymn — " Thou 
 from whom all goodness flows." Every body 
 knows it, and the tune too ; which I think was 
 originally one of those sweet litanies to the 
 Virgin which one hears in French churches, 
 especially during the month of May. The 
 little congregation knew it well, and sang it 
 well too. When Sunny saw them all stand 
 up, she of her own accord stood up likewise, 
 mounting the bench beside the old pauper, 
 who turned half round, ancl looked on the 
 pleasant child with a faint, pathetic • sort of 
 smile. 
 
 Strange it was to stand and watch the dif- 
 ferent people who stood singing, or listening 
 to, that hymn ; Maurice and Eddie, with their 
 papa and mamma; other papas and mammas 
 with their little ones ; farmers and farm-serv- 
 
170 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 ants who lived in the glen, with a chance 
 tourist or two who happened to be passing 
 through ; several old Highland women, grim 
 and gaunt with long hard-working lives ; the 
 poor old pauper, who did not know that his 
 life was so nearly over ; and lastly, the little 
 three-years-old child, with her blue eyes wide 
 open and her rosy lips parted, not stirring a 
 foot or a finger, perfectly motionless with de- 
 light. • Verse after verse rose the beautiful 
 hymn, not the less beautiful because so famil- 
 iar : 
 
 "O Thou from whom all goodness flows, 
 I lift my soul fo Thee; 
 In all my sorrows, conflicts, woes, 
 O Lord, remember me! 
 
 "When on my aching burdened heart, 
 My sins lie heavily, 
 Thy pardon grant, Thy peace impart, 
 In love, remember me! 
 
 "When trials' sore obstruct my way, 
 And ills I can not flee, 
 Oil ! let my strength be as my day, 
 For good, remember me ! 
 
 "When worn with pain, disease, and grief, 
 This feeble body see, 
 Give patience, rest, and kind relief, 
 Hear, and remember me ! 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 171 
 
 "When in the solemn hour of death 
 I wait Thy just decree, 
 Be this the prayer of my last breath, 
 'O Lord, remember me!'" 
 
 As Little Sunshine stood there, unconscious- 
 ly moving her baby lips to the pretty tune — 
 ignorant of all the words and their meaning — 
 her mother, not ignorant, took the tiny soft 
 hand in hers and said for her in her heart, 
 "Amen." 
 
 When the hymn was done, the congregation 
 passed slowly out of church, most of them 
 stopping to' speak or shake hands, for of course 
 all'knew one another, and several were neigh- 
 bors and friends. Then at last Sunny's papa 
 ventured to take up his little girl, and kiss 
 her, telling her what a very good little girl she 
 had been, and how pleased he was to see it. 
 The minister, walking home between Maurice 
 and Eddie, who seized upon him at once, 
 turned round to say that he had never known 
 a little girl, taken to church for the first time, 
 behave so remarkably well. And though she 
 was too young to understand any thing except 
 that she had been a good girl, and every body 
 loved her and was pleased with her, still Sun- 
 ny also looked pleased, as if satisfied that 
 church-going was a sweet and pleasant thing. 
 
172 LITTLE- SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S delicious holiday 
 — equally delicious to her papa and mam- 
 ma too — was now fast drawing to a close. 
 This Sunday sunset, more gorgeous perhaps 
 than ever, was the last that the assembled 
 party of big and little people watched together 
 from the terrace. By the next Sunday, they 
 knew, all of them would be scattered far and 
 wide, in all human probability never again to 
 meet, as a collective party, in this world. For 
 some of them had come from the " under 
 world," the Antipodes, and were going back 
 thither .in a few months, and all had* their 
 homes and fortunes widely dispersed, so as to 
 make their chances of future reunion small. 
 
 They were sorry to part, I think — even those 
 who were nearly strangers to one another — and 
 those who were friends were very sorry in- 
 deed. The children, of course, were not sorry 
 at all, for they understood nothing about the 
 matter. For instance, it did not occur in the 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 173 
 
 least to Sunny or to Austin Thomas (still view- 
 ing one another with suspicious eyes, and al- 
 ways on the brink of war, though Sunny kept 
 her promise, and did not attack again), that the 
 next time they met might be as big boy and 
 girl, learning lessons, and not at all disposed 
 to fight; or else as grown young man and 
 woman, obliged to be polite to one another 
 whether they liked it or not. 
 
 But the elders were rather grave, and watch- 
 ed the sun set — or rather not the sun, for he 
 was always, invisible early in the afternoon, the • 
 house being placed on the eastern slope of the 
 hill — but the sunset glow on the range of 
 mountains opposite. Which, as the light grad- 
 ually receded upward, the shadow pursuing, 
 had been evening after evening the loveliest 
 sight imaginable. This night especially, the 
 hills seemed to turn all colors, fading at last 
 into a soft gray, but keeping their outlines 
 distinct long after the loch and valley were left 
 dark. 
 
 So, good-bye, sun ! When he rose again, 
 two of the party would be on board a steam- 
 boat — the steamboat, for there was but one — sail- 
 ing away southward, where there were no hills, 
 no lochs, no salmon-fishing, no idle sunshiny- 
 days — nothing but work, work, work. For 
 M 
 
174 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 " grown-ups," as Sunny calls them, do really 
 work ; though, as a little girl once observed 
 pathetically to Sunny's mamma, " Ob, I wish I 
 was grown up, and then I might be idle ! We 
 children have to work so hard ! while you and 
 my mamma do nothing all day long." (Oh 
 dear !) 
 
 Well, work is good, and pleasant too; 
 though perhaps Sunny's papa did not exactly 
 think so, when he gave her her good-night kiss, 
 which was also good-bye. For he was to start 
 so early in the morning that it was almost the 
 middle of the night, in order to catch the steam- 
 er which should touch at the pier ten miles 
 off, between six and seven A.M. Consequently, 
 there was breakfast by candle-light, and hasty 
 adieux, and a dreary departure of the carriage 
 under the misty morning starlight ; every body 
 making an effort to be jolly, and not quite ac- 
 complishing it. Then every body or as many 
 as had had courage to rise, went to bed again, 
 and tried to sleep, with varied success, Sunny's 
 mamma with none at all. 
 
 It recurred to her, as a curious coincidence, 
 that this very day, twenty-five years before, 
 after sitting up all night, she had watched, sol- 
 emnly as one never does it twice in a life-time", 
 a glorious sunrise. She thought she would go 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 175 
 
 out and watch another, from the hill-side, over 
 the mountains. 
 
 My children, did you ever watch a sunrise? 
 ISTo ? Then go and do it as soon as ever you 
 can. Not lazily from your bed-room window, 
 but out in the open air, where you seem to 
 hear and see the earth gradually waking up, as 
 she does morning after morning, each waking 
 as wonderful and beautiful as if she had not 
 done the same for thousands of years, and may 
 do it for thousands more. 
 
 When the carriage drove off, it was still star- 
 light — morning starlight, pale, dreary, and ex- 
 cessively cold; but now a faint colored streak 
 of dawn began to put the stars out, and creep 
 up and up behind the curves of the eastern 
 hills. Gradually, the daylight increased — it 
 was clear enough to see things, though every 
 thing looked cheerless and gray. The grass 
 and heather were not merely damp, but soak- 
 ing wet, and over the loch and its low-lying 
 shores was spread a shroud of white mist. 
 There was something almost painful in the in- 
 tense stillness; it felt as if all the world were 
 dead and buried, and when suddenly a cock 
 crew from the farm, he startled one as if he 
 had been a ghost. 
 
 But the mountains — the mountains ! Turn- 
 
176 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 ing eastward, to look at them, all the dullness, 
 solitude, and dreariness of the lower world van- 
 ished. They stood literally bathed in light, 
 as the sun rose up behind them, higher and 
 higher, brighter and brighter, every minute. 
 Suddenly, an arrow of light shot across the 
 valley; and touched the flat granite bowlder 
 on which, after a rather heavy, climb,' Sunny's 
 mamma had succeeded in perching herself like 
 a large bird, tucking her feet under her, and 
 wrapping herself up as tightly as possible in 
 her plaid, as some slight protection against the 
 damp cold. But when the sunshine came, 
 chilliness and cheerlessness vanished. And as. 
 the beam broadened, it seemed to light up the 
 whole world. 
 
 How she longed for her child, not merely 
 for company, though that would have been 
 welcome in the extreme solitude, but that she 
 might show her,- what even such baby eyes 
 could not but have seen — the exceeding beau- 
 ty of God's earth, and told her how it came 
 out of the love of God, who loved the world 
 and all that was in it. How He-loved Sunn}', 
 •and would take care of her all her life, as He 
 had taken care of her, and of her mamma, too. 
 How, if she were good and loved Him back 
 again, He would be sure to make for her, 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 177 
 
 through all afflictions, a happy life ; since, like 
 the sunrise, " His mercies are new every morn- 
 ing, and His compassions fail not." 
 
 Warmer and warmer the cold rock grew ; a 
 few birds began to twitter, the cocks crowed 
 from the farm-yard, and from one of the cot- 
 tages a slender line of blue peat-smoke crept 
 up, showing that somebody else was awake be- 
 sides Sunny's mamma ; which was rather a 
 comfort — she was getting tired of having the 
 world all to herself. 
 
 Presently an old woman came out of a cot- 
 tage-door, and went to the burn for water, 
 probably to make her morning porridge. A 
 tame sheep followed her, walking leisurely to 
 the burn and back again, perhaps with an eye 
 to the porridge-pot afterwards. And a lazy 
 pussy-cat also crept out, and climbed on the 
 roof of the cottage, for a little bit of sunshine 
 before breakfast. Sunny's mamma also began 
 to feel that it was time to see about breakfast, 
 for sunrise on the mountains makes one very 
 hungry. 
 
 Descending the hill was worse than ascend- 
 ing, there being no regular track, only some 
 marks of where the sheep were in the habit of 
 climbing. And the granite rocks presented a 
 flat sloping surface, sometimes bare, sometimes 
 
178 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 covered with slippery moss, which was not too 
 agreeable. Elsewhere, the ground was gener- 
 ally boggy, with tufts of heather between, 
 which one might step or jump. But as soon 
 as one came to a level bit it was sure to be 
 bog, with little streams running through it, 
 which had to be crossed somehow, even with- 
 out the small convenience of stepping-stones. 
 
 Once, when her stout stick alone saved her 
 from a sprained ankle, she amused herself with 
 thinking how in such a case she might have 
 shouted vainly for help, and how bewildered 
 the old woman at the cottage would have been 
 on finding out that the large creature, a sheep 
 as she .probably supposed, sitting on the bowl- 
 der overhead, which she had looked up at once 
 or twice, was actually a wandering lady! 
 
 It was now half-past seven, and the usual 
 breakfast party on the door-step was due at 
 eight. Welcome was the sound of little voices, 
 and the patter of small eager feet along the 
 gravel walk. Sunny 's mamma had soon her 
 own child in her arms, and the other children 
 round her, all eating bread and butter and 
 drinking milk with the greatest enjoyment. 
 The sun was now quite warm, and the mist 
 had furled off the loch, leaving it clear and 
 smooth as ever. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 179 
 
 Suddenly Eddie's sharp eyes caught some- 
 thing there which quite interrupted his meal. 
 It was a water-fowl, swimming in and out 
 among the island of water-lilies, and even 
 coming as close in shore as the pier. Not one 
 of the nine geese, certainly ; this bird was 
 dark-colored, and small, yet seemed larger than 
 the water-hens, which also were familiar to the 
 children. Some one suggested it might possi- 
 bly be a wild duck. 
 
 Eddie's eyes brightened, " Then might I 
 'low 'in a boat, with papa's gun, and go and 
 shoot it?" 
 
 This being a too irregular proceeding, Sun- 
 ny's mamma proposed a medium course, name- 
 ly, that Eddie should inform his papa that 
 there was a bird supposed to be a wild duck, 
 and then he might do as he thought best about 
 shooting it. 
 
 Maurice and Eddie were accordingly off like 
 lightning; three of Maurice's worms, which 
 had taken the opportunity of crawling out of 
 his pocket and on to the tray, being soon after- 
 wards found leisurely walking over the bread 
 and butter plate. Franky and Austin Thomas 
 took the excitement calmly, the one thinking 
 it a good chance of eating up his brothers' re- 
 jected shares, and the other proceeding unno- 
 
180 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 ticed to his favorite occupation of filling the 
 salt-cellar with sand from the walk. 
 
 Soon, Donald, who had also seen the bird, 
 appeared, with his master's gun all ready, and 
 the master having got into his clothes in pre- 
 ternatu rally quick time, hurried down to the 
 loch, his boys, accompanying him. Four per- 
 sons, two big and two little, after one unfortu- 
 nate bird ! which still kept swimming about, 
 a tiny black dot on the clear w T ater, as happy 
 and unconscious as possible. 
 
 The ladies, too, soon came out and watched 
 the sport from the terrace ; wondering whether 
 the duck was within range of the gun, and 
 whether it really was a wild duck, or not. A 
 shot, heard from behind the trees, deepened 
 the interest ; and when, a minute after, a boat 
 containing Maurice, Eddie, their papa, and 
 Donald, was seen to pull off from the pier, the 
 excitement was so great that nobody thought 
 about breakfast. 
 
 " It must be a wild duck ; they have shot it : 
 it will be floating on the water, and they are 
 going after it in the boat." 
 
 " I hope Eddie will not tumble into the 
 water, in his eagerness to pull the bird 
 out." . . 
 
 " There — the gun is in the boat with them ! 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 181 
 
 Suppose Maurice stumbles over it, and it goes 
 off and shoots somebody." 
 
 Such were the maternal -forebodings, but 
 nothing of the sort happened, and by-and-by, 
 when breakfast was getting exceedingly cold, 
 a little procession, all unharmed, was seen to 
 wind up from the loch, Eddie and Maurice on 
 either side of their papa. He walked between 
 them, shouldering his gun, so that loaded or not, 
 it could not possibly hurt his little boys. But 
 he looked extremely dejected, and so did Don- 
 ald, who followed, bearing " the body " — of a 
 poor little dripping, forlorn-looking bird. . 
 
 "Is that the wild duck?" asked every body 
 at. once. 
 
 " Pooh ! It wasn't a wild duck at all. It 
 was only a large water-hen. Not worth the 
 trouble of shooting, certainly not of cooking. 
 f And then we had all the bother of getting out 
 the gun, and tramping over the wet grass to 
 get a fair shot, and, after we shot it, of rowing 
 after it, to fish it up out of the loch. Wretch- 
 ed bird !" 
 
 Donald, imitating his master, regarded the 
 booty with the utmost contempt, even kicking 
 it with his foot as it lay, poor -little thing! 
 But no kicks could, harm it now. Sunny 
 only went up and touched it timidly, strok- 
 
183 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 ing its pretty wet feathers with her soft little 
 hand. . 
 
 " Mamma, can't it fly ? why doesn't it get up 
 and fly away? And it is so cold. Might 
 Sunny warm it?" as she had once tried to 
 warm the only dead thing she ever saw — a lit- 
 tle field-mouse lying on the garden-walk at 
 home, which she put in her pinafore and cud- 
 dled up to her little " bosie," and carried about 
 with her for half an hour or more. 
 
 Quite puzzled, she watched Donald carrying 
 off the bir,d, and only half accepted mamma's 
 explanation that " there was no need to warm 
 it — it was gone to its bye-bye, and would not 
 wake up any more." 
 
 Though she was living at a shooting-lodge, 
 this was the only dead thing Sunny had yet 
 chanced to see, for there was so little game, 
 about that the gentlemen rarely shot any. 
 But this morning one of them declared that 
 if he walked his legs off over the mountains, 
 he must go and have a try at something. So 
 off he set, guided by Donald, while the rest of 
 the party fished meekly for trout, or went 
 along the hill-road on a still more humble 
 hunt after blackberries. Sometimes they won- 
 dered about the stray sportsman, and listened 
 for gun-shots from the hills — the sound of a 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 183 
 
 gun could be heard for so very far in this 
 still bright weather. And when at the usual 
 dinner-hour he did not appear, they waited a 
 little while for him. They were going at 
 length to begin the meal, when he was seen 
 coming leisurely along the garden walk. 
 
 Eager were the inquiries of the master. 
 " Well — any grouse?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 ".Partridges?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " I knew it. There has not been a partridge 
 seen here for years. Snipes, perhaps ?" 
 
 " Never saw one." 
 
 11 Then, what have you been about? Have 
 you shot nothing at all ?" 
 
 " Not quite nothing. A roe-deer. The first 
 I ever killed in my life. Here, Donald." 
 
 With all his brevity, the sportsman could 
 not hide the sparkle of his eye. Donald, look- 
 ing equally delighted, unloosed the creature, 
 which he had been carrying round his neck 
 in the most affectionate manner, its fore legs 
 clasped over one shoulder, and its hind legs 
 over the other, and laid it down on the gravel 
 walk. 
 
 What a pretty creature it was, with its round 
 slender shapely limbs, its smooth satin skin, 
 
184 LITTLE S UNSHLNE ! S HO LID A T. 
 
 and its large eyes, that in life would have been 
 so soft and bright ! They were dim and glazed 
 now, though it was scarcely cold yet. 
 
 Every body gathered round to look at it, 
 and the sportsman told the whole story of his 
 shot. 
 
 " She is a hind, you see ; most likely has a 
 fawn somewhere not far off. For I shot her 
 close by the farm here. I .was coming home, 
 not over-pleased at coming so empty-handed, 
 when I saw her standing on the hill-top, just 
 over that rock there ; a splendid shot she was, 
 but so far off that I never thought I should 
 touch her. However, I took aim, and down 
 she dropped. Just feel her. She is an admi- 
 rable creature, so fat ! Quite a picture !" 
 
 So it was, but a rather sad one. The deer 
 lajr, her graceful head hopelessly dangling, and 
 bloody drops beginning to ooze from her open 
 mouth. Otherwise she might have been asleep 
 — as innocent. Sunny, who had run with the 
 boys to see the sight, evidently thought she 
 was. 
 
 "Mamma, look at the little baa-lamb, the 
 dear little baa-lamb. Won't it wake up ?" 
 • Mamma explained that it was not a baa- 
 lamb, but a deer, and there stopped, consider- 
 in sc how to make her child understand that 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. * 185 
 
 solemn thing, death ; which no child can be 
 long kept in ignorance of, and yet which is so 
 difficult to explain. Meantime, Sunny stood 
 looking at the deer, but did not attempt to 
 touch it as she had touched the water-hen. It 
 was so large a creatureto lie there so helpless 
 and motionless. At last she looked up, with 
 trouble in her eyes. 
 
 "Mamma, it won't wake up. Make it wake 
 up, please !" 
 
 "I can't, my darling!" And there came a 
 choke in mamma's throat — this foolish mamma, 
 who dislikes "sport" — who looks upon sol- 
 diers as man-slayers, "glory" as a great delu- 
 sion, and war a heinous crime. " My little one, 
 the pretty deer has gone to sleep, and nobody 
 can wake it up again. But it does not suffer. 
 Nothing hurts it now. Come away, and 
 mamma will tell you more about this anoth- 
 er day." 
 
 The little fingers contentedly twined them- 
 selves in her mamma's, and Sunshine came 
 away, turning back now and then a slightly 
 regretful look on the poor hind that lay there, 
 the admiration of every body, and especially' 
 of the gentleman who had shot it. 
 
 " The first I ever shot," he repeated, with 
 great pride. " I only wish I could stay and 
 
186 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 eat her. But the rest of you will." (Except 
 Sunny's mamma, who was rather glad to be 
 spared that satisfaction.) 
 
 A single day was now all that remained of 
 the visit — a day which dawned finer than ever, 
 making it so hard to quit the hills, and the 
 loch, and all the charms of this beautiful place. 
 Not a cloud on the sky, not a ripple on the 
 waters, blackberries saying " come gather me," 
 by hundreds from every bramble, ferns of rare 
 sort growing on dikes, and banks, and roots 
 of trees. This whole morning must be spent 
 on the hill-side by Sunny and her mamma, 
 combining business with pleasure, if possible. 
 
 So they took a kitchen-knife as an extem- 
 pore spade; a basket, filled with provisions, 
 but meant afterwards to carry roots, and the 
 well-known horn cup, which was familiar with 
 so many burns. Sunny used it for all sorts 
 of purposes besides drinking ; filled it with 
 pebbles, blackberries, and lastly with some 
 doubtful vegetables, which she called "ferns," 
 and dug up, and brought to her mamma to 
 take home '" very carefully." 
 
 Ere long she was left to mamma's charge 
 entirety, for this was the last day, and Lizzie 
 had never climbed a mountain, which she was 
 most anxious to do, having the common delu- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 187 
 
 sion that to climb a mountain is the easiest 
 thing in the world — as it looks, from the bot- 
 tom. 
 
 Off she started, saying she should be back 
 again directly, leaving mamma and the child 
 to watch her from the latest point where there 
 was a direct path — the cottage where the old 
 woman had come out and gone to the burn at 
 sunrise. Behind it was a large bowlder, sun- 
 shiny and warm to sit on, sheltered by a hay- 
 rick, on the top of which was gambolling a 
 pussy-cat. Sunny, with her usual love for an- 
 imals, pursued it with relentless affection, and 
 at last caught it in her lap, where it remained 
 about one minute, and then darted away. 
 Sunny wept bitterly, but was consoled by a 
 glass of milk kindly brought by the old wom- 
 an ; with which she tried to allure pussy back 
 again, but in vain. 
 
 So there was nothing for it but to sit on her 
 mamma's lap and watch her Lizzie climbing 
 up the mountain, in sight all the way, but 
 gradually diminishing to the size of a calf, a 
 sheep, a rabbit ; finally of a black speck, which 
 a sharp eye could distinguish moving about on 
 the green hill-side, creeping from bush to bush, 
 and from bowlder to bowlder, till at last it came 
 to the foot of a perpendicular rock. 
 
188 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 "She'll no climb that," observed the old 
 woman, who had watched the proceeding with 
 much interest. "Naebody ever does it: she'd 
 better come down. Cry on her to come 
 down." 
 
 "Will she hear?" 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 And in the intense stillness, also from the 
 law of sound ascending, it was curious how far 
 one could hear. To mamma's great relief, the 
 black dot stopped in its progress. 
 
 " Lizzie, come down," she called again, slow- 
 ly and distinctly, and in a higher key, aware 
 that musical notes will reach far beyond the 
 speaking voice. " You've lost the path. Come 
 down !" 
 
 " I'm coming," was the faint answer, and in 
 course of time Lizzie came, very tired, and just 
 a little frightened. She had begun to climb 
 cheerfully and rapidly at first, for the hill-side 
 looked in the distance nearly as smooth as an 
 English field. When she got there, she found 
 it was rather different — that heather-bushes, 
 bowlders, mosses, and bogs, were not the pleas- 
 antest walking. Then she had to scramble on 
 all -fours, afraid to look downward, lest her 
 head should turn dizzy, and she might lose her 
 hold, begin rolling and rolling, and never stop 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'' 8 HOLIDAY. 189 
 
 till she came to the bottom. Still, she went 
 on resolutely, her stout English heart not lik- 
 ing to be beaten even by a Scotch mountain ; 
 clinging from bush to bush — at this point a 
 small wood had grown up — until she reached 
 a spot where the rock was perpendicular, nay, 
 overhanging, as it formed the shoulder of the 
 hill. 
 
 "I might as well have climbed up the side 
 of 'a house," said poor Lizzie, forlornly; and 
 looked up at it, vexed at being conquered, but 
 evidently thankful that she had got down 
 alive. "Another timer—or if I have some- 
 body with me — I do believe I could do it." 
 
 Bravo, Lizzie ! Half the doings in the world 
 are done in this spirit. ISTever say die! Try 
 again. Better luck next time. 
 
 Meanwhile she drank the glass of milk of- 
 fered by the sympathizing old Highland wom- 
 an, who evidently approved Of the adventurous 
 English girl, then sat down to rest beside Lit- 
 tle Sunny. - 
 
 But Sunny had no idea of resting. She 
 never has, unless in bed and asleep. Xow 
 she was bent upon also climbing a mountain — 
 a granite bowlder about three feet high. 
 
 "Look, mamma, look at Sunny! Sunny's 
 going to climb a mountain, like Lizzie." 
 N 
 
190 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 Up she scrambled with both arms and legs — 
 catching at the edges of the bowlder, but tum- 
 bling back again and again. Still she was not 
 daunted. 
 
 " Don't help me ! — don't help me !"she kept 
 saying. "Sunny wants to climb a mountain 
 all by her own self." 
 
 Which feat she accomplished at last, and 
 succeeded in- standing upright on the top of 
 the bowlder, very hot, very tired, but triumph- 
 ant. 
 
 " Look, mamma ! look at Sunny ! Here she 
 is !" 
 
 Mamma looked ; in fact, had been looking 
 out of the corner of her eye the whole time ; 
 though not assisting at all in the courageous 
 effort. 
 
 "Yes, I see. Sunny has climbed a mount- 
 ain: Clever little girl ! Mamma is so pleased !" 
 
 How many "mountains" will she climb in her 
 life, that brave little soul ! Mamma wonders 
 often, but knows not. Nobody knows. 
 
 In the mean time success was won. She, 
 her mamma, and her Lizzie, had each "climbed 
 a mountain." But they all agreed that though 
 pleasant enough in its way, such a performance 
 was a thing not to be attempted every day. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 191 
 
 CHAPTEB XL 
 
 THE last day came — the last hour. Sunn} r , 
 her mamma, and her Lizzie, had to turn 
 their ways homeward — -a long, long journey of 
 several hundred miles. To begin it at four in 
 the morning, with a child, too, was decided as 
 impracticable ; so it was arranged that they 
 should leave over-night, and sleep at the only 
 available place, an inn which English superi- 
 ority scornfully termed a " public-house," but 
 which here in the Highlands was called the 
 "hotel," where "gentlemen could be accom- 
 modated with excellent shooting - quarters." 
 Therefore, it was supposed to be able to ac- 
 commodate a lady and a child — for one night 
 at least. 
 
 Fortunately, the shooting gentlemen did not 
 avail themselves of it; for the hotel contained 
 only two guest-rooms. These being engaged, 
 and the exact time of the boat next morning 
 learnt — which was not so easy,- as every body 
 in the neighborhood gave different advice, and 
 a different opinion — the departure was settled. 
 
192 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 Lovelier than ever looked the hills and the 
 loch when the carriage came round to the 
 door. All the little boys crowded round it 
 with vociferous farewell — which they evident- 
 ly thought great fun — Sunny likewise. 
 
 "Good-bye! good-bye!" cried she, as cheer- 
 fully as if it had been " how d'ye do," and ob- 
 stinately refused to be kissed by any body. 
 Indeed, this little girl does not like kisses, un- 
 less she offers them of her own accord. 
 
 One only- grief she had, but that was a sharp 
 one. Maurice's papa, who had her in his 
 arms, suddenly proposed that they should 
 " send mamma away, and keep Sunny ;" and 
 the scream of agony she gave ; and the frantic 
 way she clung to her mamma, and would not 
 look at any body for fear of being kept prison- 
 er, was quite pathetic. 
 
 At last the good-byes were over. For Lit- 
 tle Sunshine these are as yet meaningless ; life 
 to her is a series of delight — the new ones 
 coming as the old ones go. The felicity of 
 kissing her hand and driving away, was soon 
 followed by the amusement of standing on her 
 mamma's lap, where she could see "every thing 
 along the road, which she had passed a fort- 
 night before in dark night. 
 
 Now it was golden twilight — such a twi- 
 
LITTLE SILYSHIXE'S HOLIDAY. 193 
 
 light ! A year or two hence Sunny would 
 have been in ecstasy at the mountains, stand- 
 ing range behind range, literally transfigured 
 in light, with the young moon floating like a 
 "silver boat" (only turned the wrong way up- 
 permost) over their tops. As it was, the large 
 distant world interested her less than the small 
 near one — the trees that swept her face as she 
 drove along the narrow road, and the numer- 
 ous cows and calves that fed on either side 
 of it. 
 
 There was also a salt-water loch, with fish- 
 ing-boats drawn up on the beach, and long 
 fishing-nets hanging on poles ; but not a living 
 creature in sight, except a heron or two. These 
 stood on one leg, solemnly, as herons do, and 
 then flew off, flapping their large wings with a 
 noise that made Little Sunshine, as she ex- 
 pressed it, " nearly jump." Several times, in- 
 deed, she "nearly jumped" out of the carriage 
 at the curious things she saw : such funny 
 houses, such little windows — "only one pane, 
 mamma" — and above all, the girls and boys 
 barefooted, shock-headed, that hung about star- 
 ing at the carriage as it passed. 
 
 " Have those little children got no Lizzie to 
 comb their hair ?" she anxiously inquired ; and 
 mamma was obliged to confess that probably 
 
194 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 they had not, at which Sunny looked much 
 surprised. 
 
 It was a long, long drive, even with all these 
 entertainments ; and before it ended, the twi- 
 light had faded, the moon crept higher over 
 the hill, and Sunshine asked in a whisper for 
 " Maymie's apron." The little " Maymie's 
 apron," which had long lain in abeyance, was 
 produced, and she soon snuggled down in her 
 mamma's arms and fell fast asleep. 
 
 When she woke up the " hotel" was reached. 
 Such a queer hotel ! You entered by a low 
 door-way, which opened into the kitchen be- 
 low, and a narrow staircase leading to the 
 guest-rooms above. From the kitchen Sunny 
 heard a baby cry.. She suddenly stopped, 
 and would not go a step till mamma had prom- 
 ised she should see the baby — a very little 
 baby, only a week old. Then she mounted 
 with dignity up the rickety stairs, and began 
 to examine her new apartments. 
 
 They were only two, and as homely as they 
 well could be. Beside the sitting-room was a 
 tiny bed-room, with a " hole in the wall," where 
 Lizzie was to sleep. This " hole in the wall " 
 immediately attracted Sunny; she jumped in 
 it, and began crawling about it, and tried to 
 stand upright under it, which, being such a 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 195 
 
 very little person, -she was just able to do. 
 Finally, she wanted to go to sleep in it, till, 
 hearing she was to sleep with mamma, a much 
 grander thing, she went up to the bed, and in- 
 vestigated it with great interest likewise. Also 
 the preparations for her bath, which was to be 
 in a washing-tub in front of the parlor fire — a 
 peat fire. It had a delicious, aromatic smell, 
 and it brightened up the whole room, which 
 was very clean and tidy, after all. 
 
 So was the baby, which shortly appeared 
 in its mother's arms. She was a pale, delicate 
 woman, speaking English with the slow pre- 
 cision of a Highlander, and having the self- 
 composed, courteous manner that all High- 
 landers have. She looked much pleased when 
 her baby was admired— though not by Sunny, 
 who, never having seen so young a baby be- 
 fore, did not much approve of it, and especial- 
 ly disapproved of seeing it taken into her own 
 mamma's arms. So presently it and its moth- 
 er disappeared, and Sunny and her mamma 
 were left to eat their supper of milk, bread 
 and butter, and eggs ; which they did with 
 great content. Sunny was not quite so con- 
 tent to go to bed, but cried a little, till her 
 mamma set the parlor-door half open, that the 
 fire-light might shine in. Yery soon she also 
 
196 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 crept in beside her little girl ; who was then 
 not afraid of any thing. 
 
 But when they woke, in the dim dawn, it 
 was under rather V frightening " circumstances. 
 There was a noise below, of a most extraordi- 
 nary kind, shouting, singing, dancing — yes, evi- 
 dently dancing, though at that early hour of 
 the morning. It could not have been contin- 
 ued from overnight, mamm.a having distinctly 
 heard all the family go to bed, the children 
 tramping loudly up the stairs, at. nine o'clock, 
 after which the inn was quite quiet. No, these 
 must be new guests, and very noisy guests too. 
 They stamped, they beat with their feet, they 
 cried " whoop !" or " hech !" or some other 
 perfectly unspellable word, at regular intervals. 
 Going to sleep again was impossible ; especial- 
 ly as Sunny, unaccustomed to such a racket, 
 began to cry, and would have fallen into a 
 downright sobbing fit, but for the amusement 
 of going to the "hole in the wall," to wake 
 her Lizzie. Upon which every body rose, the 
 peat fire was rekindled, and the new day 
 began. 
 
 "The good folk below stairs must have begun 
 it rather early. They were a marriage party 
 who hacl walked over the hills, several miles, 
 to see the bride and bridegroom off by the boat. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 1D7 
 
 " Sunny wants to look at them," said the 
 child, who listens to every thing, and wants to 
 have a finger in every pie. 
 
 So, as soon as dressed, she was taken down, 
 and stood at the door in her mamma's arms to 
 see the fan. 
 
 Very curious "fun" it was. About a dozen 
 young men and women, very respectable-look- 
 ing, and wonderfully dressed, though the wom- 
 en had their muslin skirts pretty well draggled 
 — not surprising, considering the miles they 
 had trudged over mountain and bog, in the 
 damp dawn of the morning — were dancing 
 with all their might and* main, the lassies with 
 their feet, the lads with feet, heads, hands, 
 tongues, snapping their fingers and crying 
 " hech !" or whatever it was, in the most ex- 
 citing manner. It was only excitement of 
 dancing, however; none of them seemed the 
 least drunk. They stopped a minute, at sight 
 of the lady and child, and then went on again, 
 dancing most determinedly, and as solemnly 
 as if it were to save their lives, for the next 
 quarter of an hour. 
 
 English Lizzie, who had never seen a High- 
 land reel before, looked on with as much as- 
 tonishment as Sunny herself. That small per- 
 son, elevated in her mamma's arms, gazed on 
 
198 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLLDA Y. 
 
 the scene without a single smile; there being 
 no music, the dance was to her merely a noise 
 and a scuffle. Presently she said gravely, 
 " Now Sunny will go away." 
 
 They went away, and after drinking a glass 
 of milk — oh, what delicious milk those High- 
 land cows give ! — they soon heard the distant 
 paddles of the boat, as she steamed in between 
 the many islands of which this sea is full. 
 Then mounting an extraordinary vehicle,which 
 in the bill was called a " carridge," they headed 
 a procession, consisting of the wedding party 
 walking sedately two and two, a young man 
 and young woman arm in arm, down to the 
 pier. The married couple were put on board 
 the boat (together with Sunny, her mamma, 
 and her Lizzie, who all felt very small, and of 
 no consequence whatever), then there was a 
 great shouting and waving of handkerchiefs, 
 and a spluttering and splattering of Gaelic 
 good wishes, and the vessel sailed away. 
 
 By this time it was broad daylight, though 
 no sun was visible. Indeed, the glorious sun- 
 rises seemed ended now ; it was a gray, cheer- 
 less morning, and so misty that no mountains 
 could be seen to take farewell of. The deli- 
 cious Highland life was all gone by like a 
 dream. 
 
 
LITTLE SUNSHIXE'S HOLIDAY. 199 
 
 This homeward journey was over the same 
 route that Sunny had travelled a fortnight be- 
 fore, and she went through it in much the 
 same fashion. She ran about the boat, and 
 made friends with half a dozen people, for no 
 kindly face is long a strange face to Little 
 Sunshine. She was noticed even by the grim 
 weather-beaten captain (he had a lot of little 
 people of his own, he said), only when he told 
 her she was u a bonnie wee lassie," she once 
 more indignantly repelled the accusation. 
 
 "I'm not a* bonnie wee lassie. I'm Sunny, 
 mamma's little Sunny," repeated she, and would 
 not look at him for at least two minutes. 
 
 She bore the various changes from sea-boat 
 to canal-boat, etc., with her usual equanimity. 
 At one place there was a great crush, and they 
 got so squeezed up in a crowd that her mamma 
 did not like it at all, but Sunny was perfectly 
 composed, mamma's arms being considered 
 protection against any thing. And when the 
 nine locks came, she cheerfully disembarked 
 and walked along the towing-path for half a 
 mile, in the bravest manner. Gradually, as 
 amusement began to fail her, she .found several 
 playfellows on board, a little dog tied by a 
 string, and a pussy cat shut up in a hamper, 
 which formed part of the luggage of an unfor- 
 
200 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 tunate gentleman' travelling to London with 
 five daughters, six servants, and about fifty 
 boxes — for he was overheard counting them. 
 In the long, weary transit between the canal- 
 boat and the sea, Sunny followed this impris- 
 oned cat, which mewed piteously ; and in its 
 sorrows she forgot her own. 
 
 But she was growing very tired, poor child! 
 and the sunshine, which alwaj T s has a curious 
 effect upon her temper and spirits, had now 
 altogether disappeared. A white, dull, chill 
 mist hung over the water, fortunately not thick 
 enough to stop traffic, as had happened two 
 days before, but still enough to make the river 
 ver}' dreary. Little Sunshine, too, went under 
 a cloud ; she turned naughty, and insisted on 
 doing whatever she was bid not to do ; climb- 
 ing in the most dangerous places, leaning over 
 the boat's side to look at the waves; misbe- 
 havior which required a strong hand and watch- 
 ful eyes to prevent serious consequences. But 
 mamma was more sorry than angry, for it was 
 hard for the little woman ; and she was espe- 
 cially touched when, being obliged to forbid 
 some stale unwholesome fruit and doubtful 
 " sweeties," over which Sunny lingered and 
 longed, by saying " they belonged to the cap- 
 tain," the child answered sweetly. 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 201 
 
 " Bat if the .kind captain were to give Sunny 
 some, then she might have them ?" 
 
 The kind captain not appearing, alas! she 
 passed the basket with a sigh, and went down 
 to the engines. To see the gigantic machinery 
 turning and turning, never frightened but only 
 delighted her. And mamma was so thankful 
 to find any thing to break the tedium of the 
 fourteen hours' journey, that though her little 
 girl went down to the engine-room neat and 
 clean in a white pelisse, and came up again 
 looking just like a little sweep, she did not 
 mind it at all ! 
 
 Daylight faded ; the boat emptied gradually 
 of its passengers, including the gentleman with 
 the large family and the fifty boxes ; and on 
 deck it began to grow very cold. Sunny had 
 made excursions down below for breakfast, 
 dinner, and tea, at all of which meals she con- 
 ducted herself with the utmost propriety, but 
 now she took up her quarters permanently in 
 the comfortable saloon. 
 
 Not to sleep, alack ! though her mamma set- 
 tled down in a corner, and would have given 
 any thing for "just one little minute," as Sun- 
 ny says, of quiet • slumber, but the child was 
 now preternaturally wide awake, and as lively 
 as a cricket. So was a little boy, named Wil- 
 
203 LITTLE SUNSHLYE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 lie, with whom she had made friends, and was 
 on such terms of intimacy that they sat on the 
 floor and shared their food together, and then 
 jumped about, playing at all sorts of games, 
 and screaming with laughter, so that even the 
 few tired passengers who remained in the boat, 
 as she steamed up the narrow, foggy river, 
 could not help laughing too. 
 
 This went on for the space of two hours 
 more, and even then, Sunny, who was quite 
 good now, was with difficulty caught and 
 dressed, in preparation for the stopping- of the 
 boat, when she was promised she should see 
 papa. But she will endure any martyrdom 
 of bonnet-tying or boot-buttoning if only she 
 thinks she is* going to meet her papa. 
 
 Unluckily there had been some mistake as to 
 hours, and when she was carried on deck, in 
 the sudden darkness, broken only by the glim- 
 mer of the line of lights along the wharf, and 
 plunged into the midst of a dreadful confusion 
 — porters leaping on board and screaming to 
 passengers, and passengers searching wildly for 
 their luggage — no papa was there. To double 
 her grief, she also lost her mamma, who of 
 course had to see to things at once herself. 
 Through the noise and • whirl she heard the 
 voice of the child, "Mammal mamma!" It 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 203 
 
 was a cry not merely of distress — but agony, 
 with a " grown-up " tone in it of actual despair. 
 No doubt the careless jest of Maurice's papa 
 had rankled in Ker little mind, and she thought 
 mamma was torn from her in real truth, and 
 forever. 
 
 When at last mamma came back, the grasp 
 with which the poor little girl clung to her 
 neck was absolutely frantic. 
 
 " Mamma went away and left Sunny — Sun- 
 ny lost mamma," and mamma could feel the 
 little frame shaking with terror and anguish. 
 Poor lamb ! there was nothing to be done but 
 to take her and hold her tight, and stagger 
 with her somehow across the gangway to the 
 cab. But even there she never loosened her 
 clasp for a minute till she got safe into a bright 
 warm house, where she found her own papa. 
 Then the little woman was content. 
 
 She had still another journey before her, and 
 without her papa too. A night journey, which 
 promised to be easy and comfortable, but 
 turned out quite the contrary. A journey in 
 which Sunny's powers of endurance were taxed 
 to the utmost, so that it will be years before 
 she forgets the wind-up of her holiday. 
 
 Her papa put his family safe in a carriage 
 all to themselves, and under special charge of 
 
20-1 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 the guard. Then he left them, just settling 
 down to sleep ; Sunny being disposed of in a 
 snug corner, with an air-cushion for a pillow, 
 and furry shawls wrapped about her, almost as 
 cozy as in her own little crib, in which, after 
 her various changes and vicissitudes, she was 
 soon to repose once more. 
 
 She fell asleep in five minutes, and her 
 mamma, who w T as very tired, soon dozed also, 
 until roused by a sharp cry of fright. There 
 was the poor little girl, lying at the bottom of 
 the carriage, having been thrown there by its 
 violent rocking. It rocked still, and rocked 
 for many many miles, in the most dreadful* 
 manner. When it stopped the guard was ap- 
 pealed to, who said it was " the coupling-chains 
 too slack," and promised to put all right. So 
 the travellers went to sleep again, this time 
 Sunny in her mamma's arms, which she re- 
 fused to quit. 
 
 Again more jolting, and another catastrophe; 
 mamma and the child finding themselves lying 
 both together on the floor. This time Sunny 
 was much frightened, and screamed violentlj-, 
 repulsing even her mamma. 
 
 "I thought you were not my own mamma ; 
 I thought you were somebody else," said she 
 afterwards, and it w T as a lon^ time before she 
 
LITTLE SUXSHIXE'S HOLIDAY. 20.} 
 
 came to her right self and cuddled down ; the 
 oscillation of the carriage continuing so bad 
 that it was as much as her mamma could do, 
 by wrapping her own arms round her, to pro- 
 tect the poor child from being hurt and 
 bruised. 
 
 The guard, again appealed to, declared there 
 was no danger, and that he would find a more 
 comfortable carriage at the next stopping- 
 place : but in vain. It was a full train, and 
 the only two seats vacant were in a carriage 
 full of gentlemen, who might object to a poor, 
 sleepy, crying child. The little party went 
 hopelessly back. 
 
 "Perhaps those gentlemen might talk so 
 loud they might waken Sunny," said the child 
 sagely, evidently remembering her experiences 
 of five weeks ago. At any rate, nobody wished 
 to try the experiment. 
 
 Since there was no actual danger, the only 
 remedy was endurance. Mamma settled her- 
 self as firmly as she could, making a cradle of 
 her arms. There, at length, the poor child, 
 who had long ceased crying, and only gave an 
 occasional weary moan, feU into a doze, which 
 ended in quiet sleep. She was very heavj-, 
 and the hours seemed very long, but still they 
 slipped away somehow. Nothing is absolute- 
 O 
 
206 LITTLE S UNSHLXE ' S HO LID A 7. 
 
 \j unbearable when one feels that, being inevi- 
 table, it must be borne. 
 
 Of course nobody slept, except the child, un- 
 til near day-break, -when a new and more be- 
 nevolent guard came to the rescue, had the 
 coupling-chains fastened (which, they found, 
 had never been done at all till now), and less- 
 ened the shaking of the carriage. Then tired 
 Lizzie dropped asleep too, and the gray morn- 
 ing dawned upon a silent carriage, sweeping 
 rapidly across the level English country, so 
 different from that left behind. No more 
 lochs, no more mountains. No more sunshine 
 neither, as it appeared; for there was no sign 
 of sunrise, and the day broke amidst pelting 
 rain, which kept drip, drip, upon the top of the # 
 carriage, till it seemed as if a deluge would 
 soon be added to the troubles of the journey. 
 
 But these were not so bad now. Yery soon 
 the little girl woke up, neither frightened nor 
 cross, but the same sunshiny child as ever. 
 
 "Mamma!" she said, and smiled her own 
 •beaming smile, and sat up and looked about 
 her. "It's daylight. Sunny wants to get up." 
 
 That getting up was a most amusing affair. 
 It lasted as long as mamma's ingenuity could 
 possibly make it last, without any assistance 
 from poor worn-out Lizzie, who was left to 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE y 8 HOLIDA T. 207 
 
 sleep her fill. First, Sunny's face and hands 
 had to be washed with a damp sponge, and 
 wiped with mamma's pocket - handkerchief. 
 Then her hair was combed and brushed, with 
 a brush that had a looking-glass on the back 
 of it ; in which she contemplated herself from 
 time to time, laughing with exceeding merri- 
 ment. Lastly, there was breakfast to be got 
 ready, and eaten. 
 
 A most original breakfast ! Beginning with 
 a large pear, out of a basketful which a kind 
 old gentleman had made up as a special pres- 
 ent to Sunny; then some ham sandwiches — 
 from which the ham was carefully extracted ; 
 then a good drink of milk. To uncork the 
 bottle in which this milk had been carried, and 
 pour it into the horn cup without spilling, re- 
 quired an amount of skill and care which occu- 
 pied both mamma and Sunny for ever so long. 
 In fact, they spent over their dressing and 
 breakfasting nearly an hour ; and by this time 
 they were both in the best of spirits, and be- 
 nignly compassionate to Lizzie, who slept on, 
 and wanted no breakfast. 
 
 And when the sun at last came out, a wa- 
 tery and rather melancholy orb, not at all like 
 the sun of the Highlands, the child was as 
 bright and merry as if she had not travelled 
 
208 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 
 
 at all, and played about in the railway-carriage 
 just as if it were her own nursery. t 
 
 This was well, for several weary hours had 
 still to be passed ; the train was far behind its 
 time; and what poor mamma would have 
 done without the unfailing good temper of 
 her " sunshiny child," she could not tell. 
 When London was reached, and the benevo- 
 lent guard once more put his head into the 
 carriage, with " Here we are at last. I should 
 think you'd had eribugh of it, ma'am," even he 
 could not help giving a smile to the "little 
 Missy " who was so merry and so go'od. 
 
 In London was an hour or two more of 
 weary delay ; but it was under a kindly roof, 
 and Sunny had a second beautiful breakfast, 
 all proper, with tea-cups and a table-cloth ; 
 which she did not seem to find half so amusing # 
 as the irregular one in the railway-carriage. 
 But she was very happy, and continued happy, 
 telling all her adventures in Scotland to a dear 
 old Scotchwoman whom she loves exceeding- 
 ly, and who loves her back again. And being 
 happy, she remained perfectly good, until once 
 more put into a "puff-puff," to be landed at 
 her own safe home. 
 
 Home. Even the child understood the joy 
 of going home. She began talking of i{ Sun- 
 
LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. 209 
 
 ny's nursery ;" " Sunny's white pussy ;" " Sun- 
 ny's little dog Eose;" and recalling all the 
 servants by name, showing she forgot nothing 
 and nobody, though she had been absent so 
 long. She chattered all the way down, till 
 some ladies who were in the carriage could 
 hardly believe she had been travelling all 
 night. And when the train stopped, she was 
 the first to look out of the window and call 
 out "There's godmamma!" 
 
 So it was ! Sunny's own kind godmamma, 
 come unexpectedly to meet her and her tired 
 mamma at the station; and oh! they were 
 both so glad ! 
 
 M Glad " was a small word to express the per- 
 fect and entire felicity of getting home — of find- 
 ing the house looked just as usual; that the 
 servants' cheerful faces beamed welcome ; that 
 even the doggie Rose barked, and white pussy 
 purred, as if both were glad Little Sunshine was 
 back again. She marched up stairs, lifting her 
 short legs deliberately one after the other, and 
 refusing to be carried ; then ran into her nurs- 
 ery, just as if she Jiad left it only yesterday. 
 And she "allowed" her mamma to have din- 
 ner with her there, sitting at table, as grand as 
 if she were giving a dinner-party; and chattering 
 like a little magpie to the very end of the meal. 
 
210 LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDA Y. 
 
 But after that she collapsed. So did her 
 mamma. So did her Lizzie. They were all 
 so dreadfully tired that human nature could 
 endure no more. Though it was still broad 
 daylight, and with all the delights of home 
 around them, they went to bed, and slept 
 straight on — mamma " all round the clock," 
 and the child and her Lizzie for fourteen 
 hours ! 
 
 Thus ended Little Sunshine's Holiday. It 
 is told just as it happened, to amuse other lit- 
 tle people, who no doubt are as fond as she is 
 of hearing " stories." Only this is not a story, 
 but the real truth. Not the whole truth, of 
 course, for that would be breaking in upon 
 what grown-up people term " the sanctities of 
 private life." But there is no single word in 
 it which is not true. I hope you will like it, 
 little people, simple as it is. And so, good- 
 bye! 
 
 THE END. 
 
ABBOTTS' JUVENILE BOOKS. 
 
 THE FRANCONIA STORIES. 
 
 By Jacob Abbott. In Ten Volumes. Beautifully Illus- 
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 1. Malleville. 6. Stuyvesant. 
 
 2. Mary Bell. 7. Agnes. 
 
 3. Ellen Linn. 8. Mary Erskine. 
 
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 5. Beechnut. 10. Caroline. 
 
 YOUNG CHRISTIAN SERIES. 
 
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 HARPER'S STORY BOOKS. 
 
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 BRUNO ; or, Lessons of Fidelity, Patience, and Self-De- 
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 "WILLIE AND THE MORTGAGE : showing How 
 
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 THE STRAIT GATE; or, The Rule of Exclusion from 
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 THE LITTLE LOUVRE; or, The Boys' and Girls' 
 
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 PRANK ; or, The Philosophy of Tricks and Mischief. 
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 TIMBOO AND FANNY; or, The Art of Self-Instruc- 
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 THE HARPER ESTABLISHMENT ; or, How the 
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 FRANKLIN, the Apprentice-Boy. 
 
 THE STUDIO ; or, Illustrations of the Theory and Prac- 
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 THE STORY OF AMERICAN HISTORY, from 
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 THE GIBRALTAR GALLERY: being an Account 
 
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 Timboo, Mark, and Fanny. 
 DIALOGUES for the Amusement and Instruction, of 
 
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 at School. 
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 LAPSTONE ; or, The Sailor turned Shoemaker. 
 ORKNEY, THE PEACEMAKER; or, The Various 
 
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 JUDGE JUSTIN; or, The Little Court of Morningdale. 
 MINIGO ; or, The Fairy of Cairnstone Abbey. 
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 CONGO ; or, Jasper's Experience in Command. 
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 have not education enough to appreciate the profound works of volu- 
 minous historians ; and if I had, I have no time to read them. But 
 your series of Histories gives me, in brief compass, just that knowledge 
 of past men and events which I need. I have read them with the great- 
 est interest. To them I am indebted fur about all the historical knowl- 
 edge J have." 
 
Abbotts Juvenile Books. 
 
 CYRUS THE GREAT. 
 DARIUS THE GREAT. 
 XERXES. 
 
 ALEXANDER THE GREAT. 
 ROMULUS. 
 HANNIBAL. 
 PYRRHUS. 
 JULIUS C-ESAR. • 
 CLEOPATRA. 
 NERO. 
 
 ALFRED THE GREAT. 
 WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR 
 RICHARD I. 
 RICHARD II. 
 RICHARD III. 
 MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 
 •QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 CHARLES I. 
 CHARLES II. 
 JOSEPHINE. 
 MARIA ANTOINETTE. 
 MADAME ROLAND. 
 HENRY IV. 
 PETER THE GREAT. 
 GENGHIS KHAN. 
 KING PHILIP. 
 HERNANDO CORTEZ. 
 MARGARET OF ANJOU. 
 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 
 QUEEN HORTENSE. 
 LOUIS XIV. 
 
6 Abbotts' Juvenile Boohs. 
 
 MARCO PAUL SERIES. 
 
 Marco Paul's Voyages and Travels in the Pursuit of 
 Knowledge. By Jacob Abbott. Beautifully Illustrated. 
 Complete in 6 Volumes, 16mo, Cloth, 90 cents per Volume. 
 Price of the set, in case, $5 40. 
 
 In New York. 
 
 On the Erie Canal. 
 
 In the Forests of Maine. 
 
 In Vermont. 
 
 In Boston. 
 
 At the Springfield Armory. 
 
 The design of these volumes is not simply to present a narrative 
 of juvenile adventures, but also to communicate, in connection with 
 them, a knowledge of the geography, scenery, and customs of the 
 sections of country over which the young traveler is conducted. 
 Marco Paul makes his journeyings under the guidance of a well-in- 
 formed tutor, who takes care to give him all the information which 
 he needs. The narrative is rendered still farther attractive by the 
 introduction of personal incidents which would naturally befall the 
 actors of the story. No American child can read this series without 
 delight and instruction. But it will not be confined to 'the juvenile 
 library. Presenting a vivid commentary on American society, man- 
 ners, scenery, and institutions, it has a powerful charm for readers 
 of all ages. 
 
 RAINBOW AND LUCKY SERIES. 
 
 By Jacob Abbott.* Beautifully Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, 
 90 cents each. 
 
 Handie.. 
 
 Rainbow's Journey. 
 The Three Pines. 
 Selling Lucky. 
 Up the River. 
 
 A new series of Juvenile Stories, by one of the most popular 
 of American writers for young people. It abounds in the familiar 
 details, lively descriptions, and happy illustrations, which give such 
 an interest to Mr. Abbott's writings for young people. 
 
Abbotts' Juvenile Books 
 
 THE LITTLE LEARNER SERIES. 
 
 A Series for Very Young Children. Designed to Assist in 
 the Earliest Development of the Mind of a Child, while under 
 its Mother's Special Care, during the first Five or Six Years 
 of its Life. By Jacob Abbott. Beautifully Illustrated. 
 Complete in 5 Small 4to Volumes, Cloth, 90 cents per Vol. 
 Price of the set, in case, $-t 50. 
 
 LEARNING TO TALK ; or, Entertaining and Instruct- 
 ive Lessons in the Use of Language. 1 70 Engravings. 
 
 LEARNING TO THINK: consisting of Easy and En- 
 tertaining Lessons, designed to Assist in the First Unfold- 
 ing of the Reflective and Reasoning Powers of Children. 
 120 Engravings. 
 
 LEARNING TO READ ; consisting of Easy and En- 
 tertaining Lessons, designed to Assist Young Children in 
 Studying the Forms of the Letters, and in beginning to 
 Read. 160 Engravings. 
 
 LEARNING ABOUT COMMON THINGS; or, 
 
 Familiar Instruction for Children in respect to the Ob- 
 jects around them that attract their Attention and awaken 
 their Curiosity in the Earliest Years of Life. 120 En- 
 gravings. 
 
 LEARNING ABOUT RIGHT AND WRONG; or, 
 
 Entertaining and Instructive Lessons tor Young Children 
 in respect to their Duty. 90 Engravings. 
 
Abbotts' Juvenile Books. 
 
 KINGS AND QUEENS. 
 
 KINGS AND QUEENS ; or, Life in the Palace : con- 
 sisting of Historical Sketches of Josephine and Maria Lou- 
 isa, Louis Philippe, Ferdinand of Austria, Nicholas, Isa- 
 bella II., Leopold, Victoria, and Louis Napoleon. By 
 John S. C. Abbott. With numerous Illustrations. 12mo, 
 Cloth, $1 75. 
 
 It is extremely difficult to obtain accurate information respectiug 
 the character and conduct of those who occupy thrones. The views 
 of writers are so influenced by political predilections, that the same 
 character is represented by one as an angel, and by another as a 
 demon. The author of these pages has spared no pains to obtain 
 as correct knowledge as possible of the distinguished individuals of 
 whom he has written, and he has introduced no illustrative actions 
 which have not appeared to him to be well authenticated. 
 
 A SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 A SUMMER IN SCOTLAND ■ a Narrative of Ob- 
 servations and Adventures made by the Author during a 
 Summer spent among the Glens and. Highlands in Scot- 
 land. By John S. C. Abbott. Illustrated with En- 
 gravings. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75. 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 
 
 THE ROMANCE OP SPANISH HISTORY. By 
 
 John S. C. Abbott, Author of "The French Revolution," 
 "The History of Napoleon Bonaparte," &c. With Illus- 
 trations. 12mo, Cloth, $2 00. 
 
Miss Sedgwick's Works 
 
 •- Miss Sedgwick has marked individuality ; she writes with a highei 
 aim than merely to amuse. Indeed, the rare endowments of her mind 
 depend in an unusual degree upon the moral qualities with which they 
 are united for their value. Animated by a cheerful philosophy, and 
 anxious to pour its sunshine into every place where there is lurking 
 care or suffering, she selects for illustration the scenes of every-day ex- 
 perience, paints them with exact fidelity, and seeks to diffuse over the 
 mind a delicious serenity, and in the heart kind feelings and sympa. 
 thies, and wise ambition, and steady hope. Her style is colloquial, pic- 
 turesque, and marked by a facile grace, which is evidently a gift of na- 
 ture. Her characters are nicely drawn and delicately contrasted ; her 
 delineation of manners decidedly the best that have appeared. — Pross 
 Writers of America. 
 
 M 
 
 •EMOIR OF JOSEPH CURTIS. A Model 
 Man. By the Author of " Married or Sin- 
 ;le?" "Means and Ends," "The Linwoods," 
 'Hope Leslie," "Live and Let Live," &c, &o 
 6mo, Muslin, 75 cents. 
 
 M 
 
 ARRIED OR SINGLE? By Miss Catha, 
 rine M. Sedgwick, Author of " Hope Leslie," 
 "The Linwoods," "Means and Ends," "Live 
 and Let Live," &c, &c. 2 vols. i2mo, Mus- 
 lin, $3 co. 
 
MISS SEDGWICK'S WORKS. 
 
 IVE AND LET LIVE ; or, Domestic Service 
 
 Illustrated. By Miss C. M. Sedgwick, i 8mo, 
 Muslin, 75 cents. 
 
 lyf EANS AND ENDS j or, Self-training. By Miss 
 C. M. Sedgwick. i8mo, Muslin, 75 cents. 
 
 A LOVE TOKEN FOR CHILDREN. De 
 
 signed for Sunday-School Libraries. By Miss 
 C. M. Sedgwick. i8mo, Muslin, To cents. 
 
 npHE POOR RICH MAN AND THE RICH 
 POOR MAN. By Miss C. M. Sedgwick. 
 i8mo, Muslin, 75 cents. 
 
 QTORIES FOR YOUNG PERSONS. By Mist 
 C. M. Sedgwick. i8mo, Muslin, 75 cents. 
 
 ILTON HARVEY, AND OTHER TALES. 
 By Mi: 
 
 75 cents. 
 
 w 
 
 By Miss C. M. Sedgwick. i8mo, Muslin 
 
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