Golden Moments Part 19

"Oh, mother! how? I can't sew nearly well enough to make anything for them."

"No, I don't mean sewing. I will give you an old pillow-case, and you must fill it with very little bits of torn, not cut, paper, and when it is full I will cover it for you with a case of pretty print, and then it will make a soft pillow for old Mrs. Timms, or any one else you like to give it to. It will take both time and patience to tear the paper; and when it is finished it will be your own work, and you may give it away."

"Yes, I see," said Kathie. "That will be my own work. I shall like that."

"As you grow older you will have money and other things which you can give away, but even then you will find that your best gifts will be those you have spent time and love over; those two things are the possession of the poorest of us, and yet they are worth more than gold and silver. Now, Kathie, we must go and buy you a new hat, for you cannot walk home in this heat without one; and another time when you give away anything you must remember to be just before you are generous."

Kathie thought Mother very kind not to be vexed about the hat; but Mother remembered what a little girl Kathie was, and she hardly expected her to be able to refuse, when a bold, st.u.r.dy woman asked for the hat off her head.

TRAVELLERS' TALES.

They say there is a country where the snow never falls, And sliding is a game they never knew: They never saw a lake Paved with ice that wouldn't break.

I would rather stay in England, wouldn't you?

They say there is a country where the sun never sets.

But goes on s.h.i.+ning all night through.

And you needn't go to bed, For there's always light oerhead.

That's a country I should like, wouldn't you?

They say there is a country where they all talk French.

I can't imagine what they ever do!

For who for all their chatter, Can understand such patter?

I should answer "speak in English"

wouldn't you?

They say there is a country where the clergymen are black And the language sounds like "choke-a-c.o.c.katoo."

And the n.i.g.g.e.rs sit in rows With hardly any clothes I should like to go and look, wouldn't you?

They say there is a country where the women cannot walk, And everything is made of bam-boo And the people's eyes are wee, They live on rice and tea.

I should like to go and see them, wouldn't you?

They say there is a country where the elephants are wild, And never even heard of our Zoo.

And through the woods they roam Like gentlemen at home.

I should like to go and peep, wouldn't you?

F. W. HOME

THE PRIZE OF HONOR.

"I wonder if I could trust you children to go out alone this morning,"

said Mrs. Ferrars. "I don't want to deprive nurse of her holiday, and I must see Cousin Lily: she is not so well to-day."

"Oh! yes, mother," cried Dolly and Ralph together. "May we go on the ice?"

"Well, it is just because I said you might, that I feel a little anxious," said Mrs. Ferrars, stroking Dolly's fair hair. "My Dolly sometimes forgets mother's wishes for her own; still, as it is the last day at home, I feel inclined to trust you."

"Of course, mother," said Ralph confidently, "I'll take care of Dolly; all the boys will be there, and heaps of people we know."

"You won't skate beyond the point?" said mother; "never mind if the others do or not; remember you are both on your honor."

Full of delight, the children bounded off, skates in hand, and soon arrived at the gay scene by the frozen lake. The ice was already crowded with skaters, big and little, and Ralph and Dolly espied two or three of their friends as busy as themselves fastening on skates.

The band played, the sun shone, and merry voices and laughter echoed through the frosty air.

"Let's have races!" cried Frank, one of Ralph's schoolfellows. "You take your sister, I'll take mine."

They all four flew across the ice, backwards and forwards again and again, Frank and his sister winning at every turn.

"Now change partners," said Frank, pairing off with Dolly, "perhaps that will be fairer."

"I'm rather tired of going over the same road," said Dolly presently, as she and Frank stood resting, while the other two ran a short race by themselves. "It looks so lovely out there. A broad sheet of ice without any one on it, and all the trees at the foot of the terrace bending over the lake. See, Frank, icicles are hanging from every twig; wouldn't you like to go close to them?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Ring Happy Bells Across the Snow]

"Perhaps it isn't safe," replied Frank. "No one seems to venture so far; I shouldn't wonder if the ice were thin."

"But our weight would be nothing on such a great s.p.a.ce," urged Dolly. "I don't mean far off, only just beyond the point."

Mother's words came back to her, but mother did not know. She was not there to see how beautiful it all was, and of course Dolly did not mean to run into danger.

They began skating near the point. Again Dolly turned towards the terrace.

"Oh, Frank! I must," she said. "I see a long icicle like a sword with a hilt; it's on a low branch--you can reach it for me." She sped away, and Frank followed. In a moment they were side by side, and close to the coveted icicle. As Frank raised himself to grasp it, he saw a thin stream of water welling up from beneath the ice on to the bank. He seized Dolly's hand. "Back, back!" he cried wildly. "The ice is giving, we shall go in." Away they fled. The ice creaked, but their weight was light, and once more the point was gained in safety.

"Dolly," said Ralph, hurrying up to his sister, "have you forgotten what mother said?"

"No," replied Dolly, trying to laugh, though really ready to cry after the fright she had undergone; "but mother isn't here to see the icicles.

I wanted one for her, and--"

"We are on our honor," said Ralph, "and I trusted you too, when you went off with Frank."

Dolly's tears began to fall. "I won't tell tales of you," said Ralph.

"Perhaps I am partly to blame, I ought not to have left you. Come and skate with me, now."

"I don't want to. I'll go home," said Dolly.

Mother did not come back to lunch. She sent round a note to say she was staying with Lily; and by and by when she returned, her heart was so full of sorrow for the suffering child that she forgot to ask about the morning's pleasure. If Dolly was silent, mother thought it was from sympathy with herself.

The next day school began. All thoughts of skating were banished; there was a prize to be fought for, and Dolly had set her heart on winning it.

Somehow the spirit that had hitherto animated her now failed. The world seemed all out of tune. Again and again she was on the point of confessing her wrong-doing, as mother bent above her for a good-night kiss. But weeks pa.s.sed, and still the words remained unspoken. Ralph never mentioned the ice; yet Dolly fancied he had loved her less since that morning.