Happy Days for Boys and Girls Part 38

"He doesn't know Stevie is behind him, does he, ma? and now let's watch and see what they will both do when they find out." So they snugged down by the window and t.i.ttered and watched and antic.i.p.ated rare fun.

Uncle Rube was whispering to himself and nodding his head and making gesticulations with his open hand, while Stephen trotted with his little soft, careful feet behind him, smelling of the ground, and thinking green gra.s.s with the dew sparkling on it was just made purposely for dogs to admire.

Just as Rube came to the big gate and stopped to unlatch it he heard a little whiffy breathing behind him, and then he looked and saw Stephen. He was very much surprised; but as he never scolded the dog, he simply said, in a very earnest way, "Steve, I am astonished! You go right back home immediately. You're a great boy, indeed, to sneak along without ever being invited! I didn't want you, sir, or I'd have told you so. Now go right back again."

Oh, it was _so_ funny! Stephen just threw his head back and whirled on his heels, and ran with all his might down the crooked path.

Then the school-bell rang, and Fred's mother kissed him "good-morning," and he started off with his books, and as he turned round the corner his white teeth showed prettily as, half laughing, he said to himself in wonderment, "_Dear little Stevie dog! he just ran back 'zactly as if he wanted to._"

NOW THE SUN IS SINKING.

Now the sun is sinking In the golden west; Birds and bees and children All have gone to rest; And the merry streamlet, As it runs along, With a voice of sweetness Sings its evening song.

Cowslip, daisy, violet, In their little beds, All among the gra.s.ses, Hide their heavy heads; There they'll all, sweet darlings!

Lie in happy dreams Till the rosy morning Wakes them with its beams.

A RIGMAROLE ABOUT A TEA-PARTY.

Mrs. Dyer Stirred the fire, Agnes Stout Poked it out, Tommy Voles Fetched the coals, Alice Good Laid the wood, Bertie Patch Struck the match, Charlotte Hays Made it blaze, Mrs. Groom Kept the broom, Katy Moore Swept the floor, f.a.n.n.y Froth Laid the cloth, Arthur Grey Brought the tray, Betty Bates Washed the plates, Nanny Galt Smoothed the salt, d.i.c.ky Street Fetched the meat, Sally Strife Rubbed the knife, Minnie York Found the fork, Sophie Silk Brought the milk, Mrs. Bream Sent some cream, Susan Head Cut the bread, Harry Host Made the toast, Mrs. Dee Poured out tea, And they all were as happy as happy could be.

THE FAIRY BIRD.

"I'm so glad to-morrow is Christmas, because I'm going to have lots of presents."

"So am I glad, though I don't expect any presents but a pair of mittens."

"And so am I; but I shan't have any presents at all."

As the three little girls trudged home from school they said these things, and as Tilly spoke, both the others looked at her with pity and some surprise; for she spoke cheerfully, and they wondered how she could be happy when she was so poor she could have no presents on Christmas.

"Don't you wish you could find a purse full of money right here in the path?" said Kate, the child who was going to have "lots of presents."

"O, don't I, if I could keep it honestly!" And Tilly's eyes shone at the very thought.

"What would you buy?" asked Bessy, rubbing her cold hands, and longing for her mittens.

"I'd buy a pair of large, warm blankets, a load of wood, a shawl for mother, and a pair of shoes for me; and if there was enough left, I'd give Bessy a new hat, and then she needn't wear Ben's old felt one,"

answered Tilly.

The girls laughed at that; but Bessy pulled the funny hat over her ears, and said she was much obliged, but she'd rather have candy.

"Let's look, and may be we _can_ find a purse. People are always going about with money at Christmas time, and some one may lose it here,"

said Kate.

So, as they went along the snowy road, they looked about them, half in earnest, half in fun. Suddenly Tilly sprang forward, exclaiming,--

"I see it! I've found it!"

The others followed, but all stopped disappointed, for it wasn't a purse; it was only a little bird. It lay upon the snow, with its wings spread and feebly fluttering, as if too weak to fly. Its little feet were benumbed with cold; its once bright eyes were dull with pain, and instead of a blithe song, it could only utter a faint chirp now and then, as if crying for help.

"Nothing but a stupid old robin. How provoking!" cried Kate, sitting down to rest.

"I shan't touch it; I found one once, and took care of it, and the ungrateful thing flew away the minute it was well," said Bessy, creeping under Kate's shawl, and putting her hands under her chin to warm them.

"Poor little birdie! How pitiful he looks, and how glad he must be to see some one coming to help him! I'll take him up gently, and carry him home to mother. Don't be frightened, dear; I'm your friend." And Tilly knelt down in the snow, stretching her hand to the bird with the tenderest pity in her face.

Kate and Bessy laughed.

"Don't stop for that thing; it's getting late and cold. Let's go on, and look for the purse," they said, moving away.

"You wouldn't leave it to die!" cried Tilly. "I'd rather have the bird than the money; so I shan't look any more. The purse wouldn't be mine, and I should only be tempted to keep it; but this poor thing will thank and love me, and I'm _so_ glad I came in time!" Gently lifting the bird, Tilly felt its tiny cold claws cling to her hand, and saw its dim eyes brighten as it nestled down with a grateful chirp.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FAIRY BIRD.]

"Now I've got a Christmas present, after all," she said, smiling, as they walked on. "I always wanted a bird, and this one will be such a pretty pet for me!"

"He'll fly away the first chance he gets, and die, anyhow; so you'd better not waste your time over him," said Bessy.

"He can't pay you for taking care of him, and my mother says it isn't worth while to help folks that can't help us," added Kate.

"My mother says, 'Do as you'd be done by;' and I'm sure I'd like any one to help me, if I was dying of cold and hunger. 'Love your neighbor as yourself,' is another of her sayings. This bird is my little neighbor, and I'll love him and care for him, as I often wish our rich neighbor would love and care for us," answered Tilly, breathing her warm breath over the benumbed bird, who looked up at her with confiding eyes, quick to feel and know a friend.

"What a funny girl you are!" said Kate, "caring for that silly bird, and talking about loving your neighbor in that sober way. Mr. King don't care a bit for you, and never will, though he knows how poor you are; so I don't think your plan amounts to much."

"I believe it, though, and shall do my part, any way. Good night. I hope you'll have a merry Christmas, and lots of pretty things,"

answered Tilly, as they parted.

Her eyes were full, and she felt _so_ poor as she went on alone towards the little old house where she lived! It would have been so pleasant to know that she was going to have some of the pretty things all children love to find in their full stockings on Christmas morning! and pleasanter still to have been able to give her mother something nice. So many comforts were needed, and there was no hope of getting them; for they could barely get food and fire.

"Never mind, birdie; we'll make the best of what we have, and be merry in spite of everything. _You_ shall have a happy Christmas, any way; and I know G.o.d won't forget us, if every one else does."

She stopped a minute to wipe her eyes, and lean her cheek against the bird's soft breast, finding great comfort in the little creature, though it could only love her--nothing more.

"See, mother, what a nice present I've found!" she cried, going in with a cheery face, that was like suns.h.i.+ne in the dark room.

"I'm glad of that, deary; for I haven't been able to get my little girl anything but a rosy apple. Poor bird! Give it some of your warm bread and milk."