Chapter VI: Haps and Mishaps (5)

"Who gave us these dolls and all these things, nursey?" asked Maggie.

"Indeed, then, Bessie was just right," said nurse. "Colonel Rush gave you the dolls, and his wife, with Miss Annie, made the clothes; and did you ever see dolls that had such a fittin' out? It was your mamma that bought the wagons and made the blankets."

"We didn't see her," said Bessie.

"No, but she did them when you were out or asleep; but you see Mrs. Rush and Miss Annie had to be working all the time on the clothes, lest they wouldn't be done; and you're round there so much, they had to let you see."

"But we never knew," said Maggie.

The children could scarcely keep still long enough to let nurse bathe and dress them; but at last it was done, and then the dolls were dressed, and the rest of the clothes put nicely away in the boxes. As soon as baby awoke, they were off to their mamma's room, scrambling up on the bed to show their treasures, and talking as fast as their tongues could go.

"I was so very surprised, mamma!" said Maggie.

"You were not; were you, Bessie?" said mamma, laughing.

"Why, yes, I was."

"Didn't you see or hear something last night?" asked mamma.

Bessie looked at her mother for a minute, and then exclaimed, "Oh, yes, I do yemember, now! Maggie, last night I woke up and somebody was laughing, and I thought it was Aunt Annie; but when I opened my eyes, only mamma was there, and when I asked her where Aunt Annie was, she said, 'Go to sleep; you shall see Aunt Annie in the morning.' Mamma, I thought you came to kiss us, as you do every night before you go to bed. I suppose you put the dolls there that time?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Bradford.

"That's what I call being _mysteyious_," said Bessie.

"Do you like people to be mysterious, Bessie?" asked her father, laughing.

"About dolls, I do, papa; but about some things, I don't."

"What things?"

"When they're going to say what they don't want me to hear, and they send me out of the yoom. I don't like that way of being mysteyious at all. It hurts children's feelings very much to be sent out of the yoom."

"What are these magnificent young ladies to be named?" asked Uncle John, at the breakfast-table.

"Mine is to be Bessie Margaret Marion," said Maggie,--"after mamma and Bessie and Mrs. Rush."

"Why, all your dolls are named Bessie," said Harry; "there are big Bessie and little Bessie and middling Bessie."

"I don't care," said Maggie; "this is going to be Bessie too. She will have two other names, so it will be very nice. Besides, I am not going to play with middling Bessie again. The paint is all off her cheeks, and Franky smashed her nose in, and yesterday I picked out her eyes, to see what made them open and shut, so she is not very pretty any more. I am going to let Susie have her."

"And what is yours to be, Bessie?"

"Margayet Colonel Hoyace Yush Byadford," said Bessie, trying very hard to pronounce her r's.

The boys shouted and even the grown people laughed.

"That is a regular boy's name,--all except the Margaret," said Fred, "and the Colonel is no name at all."

"It is," said Bessie,--"it is my own dear soldier's, and it is going to be my dolly's. You're bad to laugh at it, Fred."

"Do not be vexed, my little girl," said her father. "Colonel is not a name; it is only a title given to a man because he commands a regiment of soldiers. Now young ladies do not command regiments, and Horace is a man's name. You may call your doll what you please, but suppose you were to name her Horatia; would not that sound better?"

But Bessie held fast to the Horace; it was her soldier's name, and she was quite determined to give her doll the same.

After breakfast, Mrs. Bradford called Maggie up stairs for a while. "Maggie, dear," she said, when she had taken the little girl up into her lap, "have you remembered this morning that our Father in heaven has brought you to the beginning of another year of your life?"

"Oh, yes, mamma," said Maggie; "I have done nothing but think it was my birthday ever since I woke up. You know I could not forget it when every one was so kind and gave me such lots and lots of lovely things."

"But have you remembered to thank God for letting you see another birthday, and for giving you all these kind friends, and so many other blessings? And have you asked him to make you wiser and better each year, as you grow older?"

"I am afraid I did not think much about it that way," said Maggie, coloring; "but I _am_ very thankful. I know I have a great many blessings. I have you and papa and Bessie, and my new doll, and all the rest of the family. But I want to know one thing, mamma. Isn't it wrong to pray to God about dolls? Bessie said it wasn't, but I thought it must be."

"How to pray about them, dear?"

"To thank God because he made Colonel Rush think of giving us such beautiful ones. Bessie said we ought to, but I thought God would not care to hear about such little things as that. Bessie said we asked every day for our daily bread; and dolls were a great deal better blessing than bread, so we ought to thank him. But I thought he was such a great God, maybe he would be offended if I thanked him for such a little thing as a doll."

"We should thank him for every blessing, dear, great and small. Though we deserve nothing at his hands, all that we have comes from his love and mercy; and these are so great that even our smallest wants are not beneath his notice. He knows all our wishes and feelings,--every thought, whether spoken or not; and if you feel grateful to him because he put it into the hearts of your kind friends to give you this pretty present, he knew the thought, and was pleased that you should feel so. But never fear to thank him for any mercy, however small. Never fear to go to him in any trouble or happiness. He is always ready to listen to the simplest prayer from the youngest child. Shall we thank him now for all the gifts and mercies you have received to-day, and for the care which he has taken of you during the past year?"

"Yes, mamma."

"And, Maggie, I think you have one especial blessing to be grateful for."

"What, mamma?"

"That you have been able, with God's help, to do so much towards conquering a very troublesome fault."

"Oh, yes, mamma! and I do think God helped me to do that, for I asked him every night and morning, since I meddled with papa's inkstand. I mean, when I said, 'God bless,' when I came to 'make me a good little girl,' I used to say quite quick and softly to myself, 'and careful too.'"

"That was right, dear," said Mrs. Bradford, tenderly smoothing Maggie's curls, and kissing her forehead; "you see he did hear that little prayer, and help you in what you were trying to do."

Then Mrs. Bradford knelt down with Maggie, and thanked God that he had spared her child's life, and given her so many blessings, and prayed that each year, as she grew older, she might be better and wiser, and live more to his glory and praise.

"I am not quite careful yet, mamma," said Maggie, when they rose from their knees. "You know the other day, when nurse told me to bring in Bessie's best hat, I forgot and left it out on the grass, and the rain spoiled it; but I mean to try more and more, and maybe, when I am eight, I will be as careful as Bessie."

XVII.

_THE BIRTHDAY PARTY._

Maggie said this was the very best birthday she had ever had. The whole day seemed one long pleasure. She and Bessie walked over, with their father and Uncle John, to see Colonel and Mrs. Rush, leaving mamma, Aunt Helen, and Aunt Annie all helping Mrs. Jones to prepare for the evening. There were cakes and ice cream and jelly to make, for such things could not be bought here in the country as they could in town.

The new dolls went too, seated in the perambulators and snugly tucked in with the affghans, though it was such a warm day that when they reached the hotel, Bessie said she was "yoasted."

"So this is a pleasant birthday; is it, Maggie?" said the colonel.

"Oh, yes!" said Maggie; "I wish every day was my birthday or Bessie's."

"Then in sixty days you would be old ladies. How would you like that?" said Uncle John.

"Not a bit," answered Maggie; "old ladies don't have half so much fun as children."

"So you will be content with one birthday in a year?"

"Yes, Uncle John."

"And you liked all your presents, Maggie?" asked the colonel.

"Yes, sir, except only one."

"And what was that?"

"Mrs. Jones gave me a white _Canting_ flannel rabbit, with black silk for its nose, and red beads for its eyes. Idea of it! just as if I was a little girl, and I am seven! I told nurse if baby wanted it, she could have it; and I didn't care if she did put it in her mouth. Nurse said I was ungrateful; but I am not going to be grateful for such a thing as that."

The colonel and Uncle John seemed very much amused when Maggie said this, but her father looked rather grave, though he said nothing.

"Colonel Yush," said Bessie, "you didn't send me a yefuse."

"A what?"

"A yefuse to our party note."

"Oh, I understand. Did you want me to refuse?"

"Oh, no, we didn't _want_ you to; but then we knew you couldn't come, because you are so lame."

"Will it do if you get an answer to-night?" said the colonel.

Bessie said that would do very well.

When they were going home, Mr. Bradford fell a little behind the rest, and called Maggie to him. "Maggie, dear," he said, "I do not want to find fault with my little girl on her birthday, but I do not think you feel very pleasantly towards Mrs. Jones."

"No, papa, I do not; I can't bear her; and the make-believe rabbit too! If you were seven, papa, and some one gave you such a thing, would you like it?"

"Perhaps not; but Mrs. Jones is a poor woman, and she gave you the best she had, thinking to please you."

"Papa, it makes Mrs. Jones very mad to call her poor. The other day I asked her why she didn't put pretty white frocks, like our baby's and Nellie's, on Susie. Bessie said she supposed she was too poor. Mrs. Jones was as cross as anything, and said she wasn't poor, and Mr. Jones was as well off as any man this side the country; but she wasn't going to waste her time doing up white frocks for Susie. She was so mad that Bessie and I ran away."

"Then we will not call her poor if she does not like it," said Mr. Bradford; "but Mrs. Jones is a kind-hearted woman, if she is a little rough sometimes. She tries very hard to please you. Late last night, I went into her kitchen to speak to Mr. Jones, and there she sat making that rabbit, although she had been hard at work all day, trying to finish her wash, so that she might have the whole of to-day to make cakes and other nice things for your party. Yet this morning when she brought it to you, you did not look at all pleased, and scarcely said, 'Thank you.'"

"Ought I to say I was pleased when I was not, papa?"

"No, certainly not; but you should have been pleased, because she meant to be kind, even if you did not like the thing that she brought. It was not like a lady, it was not like a Christian, to be so ungracious; it was not doing as you would be done by. Last week you hemmed a handkerchief for Grandpapa Duncan. Now you know yourself that, although you took a great deal of pains, the hem was rather crooked and some of the stitches quite long, yet grandpapa was more pleased with that one than with the whole dozen which Aunt Helen hemmed, and which were beautifully done, because he knew that you had done the best you could, and that it was a great effort for you. It was not the work, but the wish to do something for him, that pleased him. Now, if grandpa had frowned, and looked at the handkerchief as if it were scarcely worth notice, and grumbled something that hardly sounded like 'Thank you,' how would you have felt?"

"I'd have cried," said Maggie, "and wished I hadn't done it for him."

"Suppose he had told other people that he didn't like work done in that way, and was not going to be grateful for it?"

Maggie hung her head, and looked ashamed. She saw now how unkindly she had felt and acted towards Mrs. Jones.

Mr. Bradford went on: "I think Mrs. Jones was hurt this morning, Maggie. Now, I am sure you did not mean to vex her; did you?"

"No, papa, indeed, I did not. What can I do? I don't think I ought to tell Mrs. Jones that I think the rabbit is pretty when I don't."

"No, of course you must not. Truth before all things. But you might play with it a little, and not put it out of sight, as you did this morning. Perhaps, too, you may find a chance to thank her in a pleasanter way than you did before."

"I'll make a chance," said Maggie.

When they reached the house, Maggie ran up to the nursery. "Nursey," she said, "where is my rabbit; did baby have it?"

"No, indeed," said nurse; "I wasn't going to give it to baby, to hurt Mrs. Jones' feelings,--not while we're here, at least. When we go to town, then my pet may have it, if you don't want it; and a nice plaything it will make for her then. It's up there on the mantel-shelf."

"Please give it to me," said Maggie; "I'm going to cure Mrs. Jones' feelings."

Nurse handed it to her, and she ran down stairs with it. She took her doll out of the little wagon, put the rabbit in its place, and tucked the affghan all round it. Then she ran into the kitchen, pulling the wagon after her.

"Now, come," said Mrs. Jones, the moment she saw her, "I don't want any children here! I've got my hands full; just be off."

"Oh, but, Mrs. Jones," said Maggie, a little frightened, "I only want you to look at my rabbit taking a ride in the wagon. Don't he look cunning? I think you were very kind to make him for me."

"Well, do you know?" said Mrs. Jones. "I declare I thought you didn't care nothing about it,--and me sitting up late last night to make it. I was a little put out when you seemed to take it so cool like, and I thought you were stuck up with all the handsome presents you'd been getting. That wasn't nothing alongside of them, to be sure; but it was the best I could do."

"And you were very kind to make it for me, Mrs. Jones. I am very much obliged to you. No, Susie, you can't have it. Maybe you'd make it dirty, and I'm going to keep it till I'm thirteen; then I'll let baby have it, when she's big enough to take care of it."

"Oh, it will be in the ash-barrel long before that," said Mrs. Jones. "Here's a cake for you and one for Bessie."

"No, thank you," said Maggie; "mamma said we musn't eat any cakes or candies this morning, because we'll want some to-night."

"That's a good girl to mind so nice," said Mrs. Jones; "and your ma's a real lady, and she's bringing you up to be ladies too."

Maggie ran off to the parlor, glad that she had made friends with Mrs. Jones. She found her mother and Aunt Helen and Aunt Annie all making mottoes. They had sheets of bright-colored tissue paper, which they cut into small squares, fringed the ends with sharp scissors, and then rolled up a sugar-plum in each. They allowed Maggie and Bessie to help, by handing the sugar-plums, and the little girls thought it a very pleasant business. And once in a while mamma popped a sugar-plum into one of the two little mouths, instead of wrapping it in the paper; and this they thought a capital plan. Then came a grand frolic in the barn with father and Uncle John and the boys, Tom and Walter being of the party, until Mrs. Bradford called them in, and said Bessie must rest a while, or she would be quite tired out before afternoon. So, taking Bessie on his knee, Grandpapa Duncan read to them out of a new book he had given Maggie that morning. After the early dinner, the dolls, old and new, had to be dressed, and then they were dressed themselves, and ready for their little visitors.

The piazza and small garden and barn seemed fairly swarming with children that afternoon. And such happy children too! Every one was good-natured, ready to please and to be pleased. And, indeed, they would have been very ungrateful if they had not been; for a great deal of pains was taken to amuse and make them happy. Even Mamie Stone was not heard to fret once.

"I do wish I had an Uncle John!" said Mamie, as she sat down to rest on the low porch step, with Bessie and one or two more of the smaller children, and watched Mr. Duncan, as he arranged the others for some new game, keeping them laughing all the time with his merry jokes,--"I do wish I had an Uncle John!"

"You have an Uncle Robert," said Bessie.

"Pooh! he's no good," said Mamie. "He's not nice and kind and funny, like your Uncle John. He's as cross as anything, and he wont let us make a bit of noise when he's in the room. He says children are pests; and when papa laughed, and asked him if he said that because he remembered what a pest he was when he was a child, he looked mad, and said no; children were better behaved when he was a boy."

"I don't think he's very better behaved to talk so," said Bessie, gravely.

"No, he's not," said Mamie. "He's awful. He's not a bit like Mr. Duncan. And I like your Aunt Annie too. She plays so nice, just as if she were a little girl herself; and she helps everybody if they don't know how, or fall down, or anything."

"Are we not having a real nice time, Bessie?" asked Gracie Howard.

"Yes," said Bessie; "but I do wish my soldier and Mrs. Yush could come to our party."

"What makes you care so much about Colonel Rush?" asked Gracie. "He's such a big man."

"He isn't any bigger than my father," said Bessie; "and I love my father dearly, dearly. We can love people just as much if they are big."

"Oh, I didn't mean that," said Gracie; "I meant he's so old. You'd have to love your father, even if you didn't want to, because he is your father, and he takes care of you. But Colonel Rush isn't anything of yours."

"He is," said Bessie; "he is my own soldier, and my great, great friend; and he loves me too."

"I know it," said Gracie. "Mamma says it is strange to see a grown man so fond of a little child who doesn't belong to him."

"I think it is very good of him to love me so much," said Bessie, "and I do wish he was here. I want him very much."

"And so do I," said Maggie, who had come to see why Bessie was not playing; "but we can't have him, 'cause he can't walk up this bank, and the carriage can't come here, either. I just wish there wasn't any bank."

"Why, what is the matter?" asked Uncle John. "Here is the queen of the day looking as if her cup of happiness was not quite full. What is it, Maggie?"

"We want the colonel," said Maggie.

"Why, you disconsolate little monkey! Are there not enough grown people here already, making children of themselves for your amusement, but you must want the colonel too? If he was here, he could not play with you, poor fellow!"

"He could sit still and look at us," said Maggie.

"And we could look at him," said Bessie. "We are very fond of him, Uncle John."

"I know you are," said Uncle John, "and so you should be, for he is very fond of you, and does enough to please you. But I am very fond of you too, and I am going to make a fox of myself, to please you. So all hands must come for a game of fox and chickens before supper."

Away they all went to join the game. Uncle John was the fox, and Mrs. Bradford and Aunt Annie the hens, and Aunt Helen and papa were chickens with the little ones; while grandpa and grandma and Mrs. Jones sat on the piazza, each with a baby on her knee. The fox was such a nimble fellow, the mother hens had hard work to keep their broods together, and had to send them scattering home very often. It was a grand frolic, and the grown people enjoyed it almost as much as the children.

Even Toby seemed to forget himself for a moment or two; and once, when the chickens were all flying over the grass, screaming and laughing, he sprang up from his post on the porch, where he had been quietly watching them, and came bounding down among them with a joyous bark, and seized hold of the fox by the coat tails, just as he pounced on Harry and Walter, as if he thought they had need of his help. How the children laughed! But after that, Toby seemed to be quite ashamed of himself, and walked back to his old seat with the most solemn air possible, as if he meant to say,--

"If you thought it was this respectable dog who was playing with you just now, you were mistaken. It must have been some foolish little puppy, who did not know any better." And not even Bessie could coax him to play any more.

But at last fox, hen, and chickens were all called to supper, and went in together as peaceably as possible. The children were all placed round the room, some of them on the drollest kind of seats, which Mr. Jones had contrived for the occasion. Almost all of them were so low that every child could hold its plate on its lap, for there was not half room enough round the table.

They were scarcely arranged when a curious sound was heard outside, like a tapping on the piazza.

"That sounds just like my soldier's crutches," said Bessie. "But then it couldn't be, because he never could get up the bank."

But it seemed that the colonel could get up the bank, for as Bessie said this, she turned, and there he stood at the door, with Mrs. Rush at his side, both looking very smiling.

"Oh, it is, it is!" said Bessie, her whole face full of delight. "Oh, Maggie, he did come! he did get up! Oh, I'm _perferly_ glad."

And indeed she seemed so. It was pretty to see her as she stood by the colonel, looking up at him with her eyes so full of love and pleasure, and a bright color in her cheeks; while Maggie, almost as much delighted, ran to the heavy arm-chair in which Grandpapa Duncan usually sat, and began tugging and shoving at it with all her might.

"What do you want to do, Maggie?" asked Tom Norris, as he saw her red in the face, and all out of breath.

"I want to take it to the door, so that he need not walk another step. Please help me, Tom," said Maggie, looking at the colonel who stood leaning on his crutches, and shaking hands with all the friends who were so glad to see him.

"Never mind, little woman," said he; "I shall reach the chair with far less trouble than you can bring it to me, and I can go to it quite well. I could not have come up this bank of yours, if I had not been 'nice and spry,' as Mrs. Jones says. I told you you should have the answer to your invitation to-night; did I not?"

"Oh, yes; but why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"Because I did not know myself that I should be able to when the time came; and I was vain enough to think you and Bessie would be disappointed if I promised and did not come after all. I knew I should be disappointed myself; so I thought I would say nothing till I was on the spot. Would you have liked it better if I had sent you a 'refuse'?"

"Oh, no, sir!" said Maggie. "How can you talk so?"

"You gave us the best answer in the world," said Bessie.

Certainly the colonel had no reason to think that all, both old and young, were not glad to see him. As for Maggie, she could not rest until she had done something for him. As soon as she had seen him seated in the great chair, she rushed off, and was presently heard coming down stairs with something thump, thumping after her, and in a moment there she was at the door dragging two pillows, one in each hand. These she insisted on squeezing behind the colonel's back, and though he would have been more comfortable without them, he allowed her to do it, as she had taken so much trouble to bring them, and smiled and thanked her; so she was quite sure she had made him perfectly easy. Neither she nor Bessie would eat anything till he had taken or refused everything that was on the table, and he said he was fairly in the way to be killed with kindness.

After supper Fred whispered to his father, and receiving his permission, proposed "three cheers for Bessie's soldier, Colonel Rush." The three cheers were given with a hearty good-will, and the room rang again and again.

"Three cheers for all our soldiers," said Harry; and these were given.

Then Walter Stone cried, "Three cheers for our Maggie, the queen of the day," and again all the boys and girls shouted at the top of their voices.

But Maggie did not like this at all. She hung her head, and colored all over face, neck, and shoulders, then calling out in a vexed, distressed tone, "I don't care," ran to her mother, and buried her face in her lap.

"Poor Maggie! That was almost too much, was it not?" said her mother, as she lifted her up and seated her on her knee.

"Oh, mamma, it was dreadful!" said Maggie, almost crying, and hiding her face on her mother's shoulder. "How could they?"

"Never mind, dear; they only did it out of compliment to you, and they thought you would be pleased."

"But I am not, mamma. I would rather have a discompliment."

Maggie's trouble was forgotten when Uncle John jumped up and began a droll speech, which made all the children laugh, and in a few moments she was as merry as ever again.

"So this has been a happy day?" said the colonel, looking down at Bessie, who was sitting close beside him, as she had done ever since he came in.

"Oh, yes," said Bessie; "it is the best birthday we have ever had."

"We?" said the colonel. "It is not your birthday, too; is it?"

"No," said Bessie; "but that's no difference. I like Maggie's birthday just as much as mine, only I like hers better, 'cause I can give her a present."

"Does she not give you a present on your birthday?"

"Yes; but I like to give her one better than to have her give me one; and it was such a great part of the happiness 'cause you came to-night."

"Bless your loving little heart!" said the colonel, looking very much pleased.

"You know, even if you did not give me that beautiful doll, it would be 'most the same; for Maggie would let me call hers half mine; but I am very glad you did give it to me. Oh, I'm _very_ satisfied of this day."

"Wasn't this a nice day?" Bessie said to her sister, when their little friends were gone, and they were snug in bed.

"Yes, lovely," said Maggie, "only except the boys hollering about me. I never heard of such a thing,--to go and holler about a girl, and make her feel all red! I think, if it wasn't for that, I wouldn't know what to do 'cause of my gladness."

XVIII.

_THE ADVENTURE._

There was a dreadful storm that week, which lasted several days, and did a great deal of damage along the coast. The sky was black and angry with dark, heavy clouds. The great waves of the ocean rolled up on the beach with a loud, deafening roar, the house rocked with the terrible wind, and the rain poured in such torrents that Maggie asked her mother if she did not think "the windows of heaven were opened," and there was to be another flood.

"Maggie," said her mother, "when Noah came out of the ark, what was the first thing he did?"

Maggie thought a moment, and then said, "Built an altar and made a sacrifice."

"Yes; and what did the Lord say to him?"

"Well done, good and faithful servant," said Maggie, who, provided she had an answer, was not always particular it was the right one.

Mrs. Bradford smiled a little.

"We are not told the Lord said that," she answered, "though he was doubtless pleased that Noah's first act should have been one of praise and thanksgiving. Indeed, the Bible tells us as much. But what did he place in the clouds for Noah to see?"

"A rainbow," said Maggie.

"What did he tell Noah it should be?"

"I forgot that," said Maggie; "he said it should be a sign that the world should never be drowned again."

"Yes; the Lord told Noah he would make a covenant with him 'that the waters should no more become a flood to destroy the earth;' and he made the rainbow for a sign that his promise should stand sure."

"I am glad God made the rainbow, 'cause it is so pretty," said Maggie; "but I think Noah might have believed him without that, when he took such care of him in the ark."

"Probably he did; we are not told that Noah did not believe, and it was of his own great goodness and mercy that the Almighty gave to Noah, and all who should live after him, this beautiful token of his love and care. But if my little girl could have believed God's promise then, why can she not do so now? His word holds good as surely in these days as in those of Noah."

"So I do, mamma," said Maggie; "I forgot about the rainbow and God's promise. I wont be afraid any more, but I do wish it would not rain so hard, and that the wind would not blow quite so much."

"We are all in God's hands, Maggie. No harm can come to us unless he wills it."

"Franky don't like this great wind either, mamma," said Maggie, "and he said something so funny about it this morning. It was blowing and blowing, and the windows shook and rattled so, and Franky began to cry and said, 'I 'fraid.' Then nurse told him not to be afraid, 'cause God made the wind blow, and he would take care of him. A little while after, he was standing on the chair by the window, and it galed harder than ever, and the wind made a terrible noise, and Franky turned round to nurse and said, 'How God do blow!' and then the poor little fellow began to cry again."

"Yes, and Maggie was very good to him," said Bessie; "she put her new doll in the wagon, and let him pull it about the nursery, only we watched him all the time, 'cause he's such a misfit." (Bessie meant mischief.) "Mamma, will you yead us about Noah?"

Mrs. Bradford took the Bible and read the chapter in Genesis which tells about the flood, and the children listened without tiring until she had finished.

At last the storm was over,--the wind and rain ceased, and the sky cleared, to the delight of the children, but they still heard a great deal of the storm and the damage which had been done. Many vessels had been wrecked, some with men and women on board, who had been drowned in the sea. Some miles farther up the shore, a large ship had been cast upon the rocks, where she was driven by the gale. The guns of distress she had fired had been heard by the people of Quam the night before the storm ceased. It was an emigrant ship coming from Europe, and there were hundreds of poor people on board, many of whom were drowned; and most of the saved lost everything they had in the world, so there was much suffering among them. Mr. Howard and Mr. Norris drove over to the place, to see if anything could be done for them, and came back to try and raise money among their friends and acquaintances to buy food and clothing.

Maggie and Bessie were down on the beach with their father and Colonel Rush when Mr. Howard joined them, and told them some of the sad scenes he had just seen. The little girls were very much interested, and the gentlemen seemed so too. Mr. Bradford and Mr. Duncan gave them money, and the colonel, too, pulled out his pocket-book, and taking out a roll of bills, handed Mr. Howard two or three. Mr. Howard was still talking, and the colonel, who was listening earnestly, and who was always careless with his money, did not pay much heed to what he was doing. He put the roll of bank-notes back in his pocket-book, and, as he thought, put the book in his pocket; but instead of going in, it dropped upon the sand behind the rock on which he sat, and no one saw it fall, but a bad boy standing a little way off.

Now this boy was a thief and a liar. Perhaps no one had ever taught him better; but however that was, he was quite willing to do anything wicked for the sake of a little money. He saw the soldier take out the roll of bank-notes, put them back again, and then drop the pocket-book on the sand, and he hoped no one would notice it, so that he might pick it up when they had gone.

By and by the colonel said he was tired, and thought he would go home. Mr. Bradford and the other gentlemen said they would go with him, Mr. Bradford telling his little girls to come too.

"In a minute, papa," said Bessie; "my dolly's hat has come off, and I must put it on."

"We'll go on then," said her father; "you can run after us."

The gentlemen walked on, while Bessie began to put on Miss Margaret Horace Rush Bradford's hat.

"Oh, Maggie!" she said, "there's Lily Norris going out in the boat with her father, and mamma said we might ask her to tea. I know she'd yather come with us; you yun ask her, while I put on my dolly's hat, and then I'll come too."

Maggie ran on, leaving Bessie alone. The boy came a little nearer. Bessie put on her doll's hat, and was going after her sister, when she dropped her doll's parasol, and as she stooped to pick it up, she saw the pocket-book.

"Oh, there's my soldier's porte-monnaie!" she said to herself; "I know it is; I'll take it to him. My hands are so full, maybe I'll lose it. I'll put it in my bosom, and then it will be all safe."

She laid doll, parasol, and the little basket she held in her hand upon the rock, picked up the pocket-book, and pulling down the neck of her spencer, slipped it inside. Just at this moment the boy came up to her.

"Give me that," he said.

"What?" asked Bessie, drawing back from him.

"Don't you make believe you don't know,--that pocket-book. It's mine."

"It isn't," said Bessie; "it's the colonel's."

"No, 'taint; it's mine. Hand over now, else I'll make you."

"I sha'n't," said Bessie. "I know it's the colonel's. I've seen it a great many times, and just now he gave Mr. Howard some money out of it for the poor people who lost all their things."

"Are you going to give it to me?" said the boy, coming nearer to her.

"No," said Bessie, "I am not. I am going to give it to the colonel, and I shall tell him what a very naughty boy you are. Why, I'm afraid you're a stealer! Don't you know--"

Bessie was stopped by the boy taking hold of her, and trying to drag away the spencer, beneath which he had seen her slip the pocket-book. Just at this moment Maggie turned her head, to see if Bessie were coming, and saw her struggling in the grasp of the boy. Down went her new doll, happily in a soft place in the sand, where it came to no harm, and forgetting all fear, thinking only of her little sister, she ran back to her help.

"Leave my Bessie be! Leave my Bessie be!" she screamed, flying upon the boy, and fastening with both her hands upon the arm with which he was tearing away the spencer and feeling for the pocket-book, while he held Bessie with the other.

"Let go!" he said, fiercely, between his teeth. But Maggie only held the tighter, screaming,--

"Leave my Bessie be! Oh! papa, papa, do come!"

Both terrified children were now screaming at the top of their voices, and they were heard by their father and the other gentlemen, who turned to see what was the matter. Although they were at a distance, Mr. Bradford saw his little girls were in great trouble. Back he came, as fast as he could, Mr. Howard and Uncle John after him, the colonel, too, as quick as his crutches would carry him.

"Let go!" cried the boy, as he saw Mr. Bradford, letting go his own hold on Bessie, and giving Maggie a furious blow across the face. But fearing he would seize Bessie again, brave little Maggie held fast.

"Take that, then!" said the boy, giving her another and a harder blow.

Maggie fell, striking her head against the edge of the rock, and the boy turned to run before Mr. Bradford reached the spot. But all this time another pair of eyes had been upon him. Four swift feet were coming toward him, and ever so many sharp teeth were set for a grip of him. While the children had been with their father, Toby, Mr. Jones' great white dog, had been seated on the edge of the bank before the house, watching the people as he was accustomed to do.

Now between Toby and Joe Sands, the boy who tried to take the pocket-book, there was great enmity. Joe never saw Toby without trying to provoke him to a quarrel by making faces at him, and throwing sticks and stones; but though the dog would growl and show his teeth, he had never yet tried to bite him.

This afternoon, the moment Joe appeared, Toby seemed to suspect mischief. He straightened himself up, put his head on one side, cocked up one ear and drooped the other. Toby was not a handsome dog at the best of times, and it was not becoming to him to hold his ears in this fashion. He looked very fierce as he sat thus, but Joe did not see him, or he might have been afraid to meddle with Bessie.

Toby never told whether he saw the colonel drop the pocket-book, but from the minute it fell, he looked all ready for a spring, and never took his eyes from Joe. When the boy spoke to Bessie, he appeared still more uneasy, rose to his feet, snarled, and gave short, angry barks, but did not think it was time to interfere till Joe laid his hand upon the little girl. Then his patience was at an end, and with a furious, rough bark, he rushed over the bank, down the beach, and just as Joe turned to run from Mr. Bradford, seized fast hold of his leg. Happily for Joe, he had on a thick, strong pair of boots; but even through these Toby's teeth came in a way far from pleasant. Not a step could he stir, and in an instant Mr. Bradford and the other gentlemen came up. Mr. Bradford stooped to pick up Maggie, while Mr. Howard collared Joe. Even then Toby would not let go, but gave Joe a good shake, which made him cry out with pain. Poor Maggie was quite stunned for a moment by the blow which Joe had given her, and there was a bad cut on her head, where it had struck the rock, while one side of her face was much bruised and scratched. But when, a moment after, she came to herself, her first thought was still for Bessie, who was crying loudly with terror and distress for her sister.

"Oh, my Bessie, my Bessie! leave her be!" she said, as she slowly opened her eyes.

"Bessie is safe, my darling," said her father. "She is not hurt at all. My poor little Maggie!" and sitting down on the rock, with her on his knee, he tenderly bound up her head with his handkerchief. By this time, Colonel Rush and two or three more people had come up, and Uncle John went on to the house, to tell Mrs. Bradford what had happened, so that she might not be startled when she saw Maggie.

Mr. Howard kept his hand on Joe's shoulder, but there was not much need, for Toby still held him fast, and if he made the least move, gave him a hint to keep still, which Joe thought it best to mind.

Mr. Bradford carried Maggie to the house, and the rest followed; but it was a long time before any one could make out what had happened. Bessie was too much frightened to tell, Maggie too sick, and Joe too sullen. And Maggie did not know about the pocket-book. All she could tell was, that she had seen Bessie struggling with the boy, and had run to help her. At last Bessie was quieted, and then told the story in her straightforward way, putting her hand in her bosom and pulling out the pocket-book.

"Oh, you villain!" said Mrs. Jones, who was holding the basin while Mrs. Bradford washed the blood from Maggie's face and head. "Oh, you villain! Aint it enough to go robbin' orchards and melon patches, and farmers' wagons market-days, but you must be fighting and knocking down babies like these to get what's not your own? If you don't see the inside of the county jail for this, my name's not Susan Jones. And you'd have been there long ago, only for your poor mother, whose heart ye're breakin' with your bad ways. That's you, Toby, my boy; you know when you've a rascal fast; but you may let him go now, for there's your master, and he will take him in hand."

Mr. Jones was the constable, and Toby knew this quite as well as if he went on two feet instead of four. When Mr. Jones was sent to arrest any one, he always took Toby with him, and it was curious to see how the dog would watch the prisoner, and seem to feel that he had quite as much share as his master in bringing him to be punished for the wicked things he had done. As soon as Mr. Jones came in the room, he let go of Joe, but sat down close to him, ready to take another grip, if he tried to run away.

"And what's to be done about your poor mother?" said Mr. Jones, when he had heard the story. "I shall have to have you up for this. It will go nigh to kill her."

Joe made no answer, only looked more sullen and obstinate than ever.

"Mr. Jones," said Maggie, in a weak little voice, "please take him away; it frightens me to see him."

"I'm going to take him right off where he wont trouble you for one while," said Mr. Jones. "But how is it that you are afraid of him just standing here, and you weren't afraid of him when he was handling you and Bessie so rough?"

"I didn't think about that," said Maggie, "and if I had, I couldn't let anybody do anything to my Bessie. I thought he was going to kill her. Oh, dear! oh, dear!" and Maggie began to cry again; she could not have told why, except that she could not help it.

"Come along," said Mr. Jones, taking hold of Joe's arm.

"Mr. Jones," said Bessie, "are you going to take him to the jail?"

"I am going to take him to the squire, and I guess he'll give him a few days of it. Serve him right too."

"But I'm 'fraid it will break his mother's heart," said Bessie; "Mrs. Jones said it would."

"He's breakin' his mother's heart fast enough, any way," said Mr. Jones. "Drinkin' and swearin' and stealin' and idlin' round, when he ought to be a help to her, poor, sick body! It isn't goin' to do him nor his mother no harm for him to be shut up for a little while where he can think over his bad ways. He wants bringin' up somewhere, and Toby knows it too."

Toby growled and wagged his tail, as if to say he agreed with Mr. Jones. The growl was for Joe, the wag for his master.

"You surely don't think he ought to be let off," said Mrs. Jones, "when he hurt Maggie that way? Why, she's going to have a black eye, sure as a gun!"

Joe walked away with Toby at his heels. Maggie's head was bound up, and her bruises washed with arnica, and both she and Bessie were petted and comforted.

As for the new doll, which Maggie had thrown down in her haste to run to her little sister's help, it was picked up by one of the gentlemen, who brought it safe and unbroken to Maggie. To be sure, Miss Bessie Margaret Marion's dress was rather soiled by the wet sand on which she had fallen; but as it was of muslin, it could easily be washed, and Mrs. Jones soon made it quite clean again.

XIX.

_SOUL AND INSTINCT._

"Papa," said Maggie, the next morning, as she sat on his knee at the breakfast-table, leaning her aching little head against his breast,--"papa, is there anything in the paper about our 'sault and battery?"

"About what?"

"Our 'sault and battery," said Maggie. "The other day, Uncle John was reading to Aunt Helen how Mr. King was knocked down, and beaten by a man who didn't like him; and he called it an 'unprovoked 'sault and battery.' I thought that meant when somebody hit somebody that didn't do anything to him."

"So it does," said her father, trying not to smile, "and yours was a most 'unprovoked assault and battery,' my poor little woman; but there is nothing in the paper about it."

"Do you think that there should be?" asked Mrs. Bradford.

"Oh, no, mamma; I'm very glad there isn't. I thought maybe the paper-maker would hear about it, and put it into his paper; and I didn't want people to be reading about Bessie and me. Do you think he would do it another day, papa?"

"I think not, dear; you need not be afraid."

"I don't see what's the reason then," said Harry. "Maggie is a real heroine, and so is Bessie. Why, there isn't a boy at Quam, however big he is, that would dare to fight Joe Sands; and to think of our mite of a Bess standing out against him, and holding fast to the pocket-book, and Maggie running to the rescue!"

"Yes, you little speck of nothing ground down to a point," said Uncle John, catching Bessie up in his arms, "how dared you hold your ground against such a great rough boy as that?"

"Why, it was the colonel's pocket-book," said Bessie, "and he was going to take it, and it wasn't his; so I _had_ to take care of it, you know. I couldn't let him do such a naughty thing."

"They're bricks, both of them," said Harry.

"So they are," said Fred; for both of the boys were very proud of their little sisters' courage; "and Maggie has the right stuff in her, if she is shy. She is a little goose where there is nothing to be afraid of, and a lion where there is."

"Holloa! what is all this heap of pennies for?" asked the colonel, a while after, as he came into Mrs. Jones' parlor, and found Maggie and Bessie, like the famous king, "counting out their money." He had come up the bank and paid them a visit two or three times since Maggie's birthday, so that they were not very much surprised to see him.

"But first tell me how that poor little head and face are, Maggie? Why, you do look as if you'd been to the wars. Never mind, the bruises will soon wear away; and as for the cut, your hair will hide that. It is not every soldier that gets over his scars so easily; and you must not be ashamed of yours while they last. But you have not told me what you are going to do with so much money," he added, when he was comfortably seated in the arm-chair.

"Oh, it isn't much," said Maggie; "it is only a little, and we wish it was a whole lot."

"And what do you and Bessie want with a whole lot of money? I should think you had about everything little girls could wish for."

"Yes, we have," said Bessie, "and we don't want it for ourselves."

"Who for, then?"

"For those poor shipyecked people. Papa and Uncle John have gone over to see them; and mamma and Aunt Helen have gone to the village to buy some flannel and calico to make things for the poor little children who have lost theirs. Mr. Howard says there's a baby there that hasn't anything but a ni'-gown, and no mother, 'cause she was drowned. A sailor man has it, and he's going to take care of it, but he hasn't any clothes for it. And we wanted to help buy things, but we have such a very little money."

"Bessie has such a little, 'cause she spent all hers for my birthday present," said Maggie. "Mamma gives us six cents a week, but it's such a little while since my birthday, Bessie hasn't saved much. I have more than she has, but not a great deal."

"And she wanted mamma to let her hem a pock'-han'kerchief and earn some money," said Bessie, "but she can't, for the doctor says she musn't use her eye while it's so black."

"Well," said the colonel, "I think you two have fairly earned the right to dispose of at least half the money that was in that unfortunate pocket-book. You shall say what shall be done with it."

Maggie looked as if she did not know what to say.

"If you mean, sir," said Bessie, "that you're going to give us half that money, papa and mamma would not like it. They don't allow us to yeceive money from people who are not yelations to us."