penitentAnnie.
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ROSIE'S DISAPPOINTMENT.
It _was_ a disappointment! Mother looked gravely at the clouds, Nurseshook her head, and Father said it would never do for Rosie, who was notstrong, to go to a picnic if the weather was doubtful.
And it was more than doubtful; for a sharp shower made the grass and thetrees and the flowers look all the more beautiful to the poor child, whowas longing for a day in the woods.
"Mother, I believe it will clear up later," she said, looking at thesky.
"I couldn't let you go, Rosie, for the grass would be wet."
"But I could sit on a rug."
"You couldn't walk on a rug, and the grass and underwood will be damp. Iam very sorry, Rosie, and it is a great disappointment; but, indeed, itcan't be helped." And Mrs. Seymour stooped to kiss her little girl.
At that moment a servant came to say that Miss Peters was in thedrawing-room.
Miss Peters was a very rich lady, who lived all alone in a beautifulhouse about two miles away, and she had come to lend Mrs. Seymour somebooks, and ask her if she would go for a drive with her on the followingday. Mrs. Seymour said she would be quite ready at the appointed time;and when they spoke of the weather she told her friend what adisappointment the rain had been to poor Rosie.
"Won't you let me take her home, Mrs. Seymour?" said Miss Peters. "Ihave the carriage here, and we could wrap her up in rugs; and I willbring her home this afternoon myself. Let me have her; I shall enjoy it;and there will be an end to your difficulties."
Mrs. Seymour was very glad, but wondered if Rosie would like it, as shewas rather shy; but the little girl saw that it was the only arrangementby which her brothers could have all their fun, so she went with MissPeters. She was a very grave little visitor, but Miss Peters was so kindthat Rosie could not be shy for long; and then there was so much, so_very_ much, to see! The house was like a museum, the conservatory afairyland, and the garden a paradise of loveliness.
The showers all passed away, and Rosie could run about on the terraces,where there were so many flowers that Miss Peters told her she mightpick what she liked, and Rosie made a very pretty bunch to take home,which pleased her; and pleasanter still was Miss Peters's kiss as shesaid, looking at the modest little nosegay, "I am glad to see that youare not greedy, Rosie."
"Oh, that would be horrid when you are so kind!" said Rosie.
But what Rosie enjoyed most of all was that Miss Peters came out withher, and, calling Jacob, the old gardener, she went down to the lake andtold him to get the boat ready, and then they went for a delightful rowon the clear water. Rosie _was_ happy then; she did not want Miss Petersto talk to her, and was very glad that the lady had brought a book,though she did not read much of it, for she was steering.
The only time Rosie did speak was when the great swan went gliding by,and, lifting his wings, began to hiss at the boat in a rather alarmingmanner. Then Rosie did touch Miss Peters's arm, asking, "Will he hurtus?"
"No, dear; but we will not go very near that bank, as he has a nestthere, and might be angry if he thought we were going to disturb thehen, who is sitting." And Miss Peters steered away from that end of thelake.
Altogether Rosie passed a very happy day, and Miss Peters was so pleasedwith her that when, after they had had tea together in the delightfulroom that opened into the conservatory, she brought the child home, shekissed her, saying, "Remember, Rosie, you must come and see me again. Ihope you have not been _very_ unhappy at not being at the picnic!"
Rosie laughed and shook her head.
"I don't think I have been sorry at all," she said; "I have been veryhappy all the time, and I forgot about being disappointed."
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A PICNIC OF SEVEN.
We are the Smiths, and there are four of us, and next door to us livethe Browns, and there are three of them, so we are seven, and we aregreat friends. We liked being seven better than being eight, becauseit's like the poem; and I think that was why we never would let JimBatson join our party. He and his dog Pincher were always wanting tomake friends with us; but we told him there were enough of us withouthim, and then he would go away, but only to come back another day andtry again.
When the spring weather came this year we made a delightful plan withthe Browns that on Saturday we would go into the park, which was a mileoff, and have games under the trees. When Saturday came it was a lovelyday; so soon after breakfast we started out, all seven of us, with ourdinners in our pockets. Willie Brown had the drum, and I had thetrumpet, and a fine noise we made, almost frightening our little Sissy,who had to come because Mother was busy, and Bessie was minding Sissy,and we couldn't have any fun without Bessie. Charlie put on an oldragged coat, because Mother says he destroys everything; but Arthur andPatty Brown looked very nice, and we made Patty the queen, and we wereher band playing to her.
Then all at once Jim Batson came out from among the trees with his dog(who was held by a string because of the game), and when we saw them weall shouted at Jim to go away. Bessie _did_ ask me if it didn't seemunkind; but we wouldn't listen to her and sent him away, telling him notto sneak about near us. So he went off without a word.
We weren't very happy after that, for Arthur turned cross, and wouldn'tspeak to any one; but the worst of all was when Willie dropped one ofthe drumsticks into the river as we were crossing the plank. The riveris very deep in parts, and none of us could swim, so we could onlyfollow the stick as it floated along, and hope that it might catch insome weeds in a shallow part. But as we ran by the river we came on Jimand Pincher. Jim was sitting by the bank with his face hidden in hishands, and Pincher was just kissing him as hard as he could. Jim jumpedup and began to move away when he saw us, but stopped to ask what wasthe matter when he saw Willie's face. As soon as he knew what it was, hetook the string off Pincher's neck, and throwing a stone at the stickcalled, "Hie, Pincher! fetch it out!"
We _did_ feel uncomfortable as we saw Pincher bring the drumstick toshore quite safely, but Bessie helped us out splendidly. She held outher hand to Jim, and said, "Thank you so much; we're all very sorry forbeing so unkind. Please don't make us _more_ sorry by going away now."
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ELSIE'S PARTY.
Yes, it was a very nice party! There were cakes, and games, and sweets,and crackers--crackers with caps in them! And little Elsie enjoyed itall, and felt very grand in her embroidered muslin frock, with a yellowpaper cap out of one of the said crackers perched on the top of hercurly brown head. If only Alfy had been there to enjoy it all with her!
Alfy was her twin brother, and they always did everything together. Butto-day poor Alfy must stop at home: he is ill, very ill, with"inflammation of the _tongue_," Elsie says, but the doctor calls it"lungs." Anyway, there is nothing the matter with Elsie's tongue; itwags fast enough, and she tells everybody about Alfy, and how ill he is."But he is better to-day, and I shall bring him my 'tracker.'"
Elsie goes home quite laden with "trackers" and toys for Alfy, and isfar more pleased with these than with anything for herself.
But when she gets home a disappointment awaits her. Alfy is asleep, fastasleep, and must on no account be disturbed, for sleep is his bestmedicine.
"But I want so to give him these things," and Elsie clasps tightly herarmful of treasures.
"You shall give them him to-morrow," Mother promises, and Elsie has tobe content.
When to-morrow dawns, Elsie can hardly wait to be dressed, so anxiousis she to go to Alfy and present the soldier doll and the rest of thethings.
Nurse is so slow this morning, Elsie really cannot wait; and whilstNurse turns to the drawer to pull out her clean frock, Elsie toddlesquickly out of the nursery, and runs to Alfy's room. She can hardlyreach the door, but manages somehow to stand on tip-toe and turn thehandle.
"There, Alfy! S
ee!" she cries gayly, as she runs up to his cot. "Allthese are for you!"
Alfy is better, and quite able to enjoy his presents, which are spreadout on his white quilt, and Elsie stands by, quite satisfied with hispleasure.
"What have _you_ got?" he asks at last, as, somewhat tired, he leansback on his pillows.
"Nothing," says Elsie promptly, "'cause I have the fun of giving, youknow."
A simple answer, but one in which a great truth is hidden.
Are there not, in these hard times, some children who might learn the"fun," or rather the blessing, of giving?
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EASTERN TRAVEL.
On we file in a winding Caravan, Caravan made of children and chairs. Bold