I shall not soon forget how long the road seemed, and how I got out and walked in deep mud, and how, when poor Rough seemed straining every muscle to make the little cart move at all, Gerald insisted on getting out, too, and leading Rough; how the sun set as we were wading through a long road, where willow trees grew thick on either side, and Daisy said, See; all the little pussies are out! how, at last, we reached the Stevens farm, and restored the half-drowned boy to his parents. I remember, too, how they were so utterly absorbed, very naturally, in the welfare of their boy, as to forget all about us, and offer us no quicker means of return home than our donkey-cart.
They came to call on us the next day, and to thank us, and specially Gerald, with tears of gratitude. And Gerald was a hero in the village from that day forth.
I remember well how dark it grew as we waded slowly and silently home, and how poor little Rough did his very best, and never stopped once.
I think he understood the importance of the occasion; but those who were not Roughs friends, believe it was a recollection, and expectation of supper, that made him acquit himself so honorably.
As we neared our home, we saw a tall figure looming up in the dark, and soon, by the voice, we knew it was Michael, one of the farm hands, sent to seek us.
Bluder an nouns, he exclaimed, it is you, Mister Gery! An yer muther, poor leddy, destroyed wid the fright. An kapin the chilt out to this hair. Hadnt ye moor sense?
We explained briefly; and Daisy begged to be carried, as the cart was all wet.
With many Irish expressions of sympathy, Michael took the child in his arms; and so we arrived at home, and found father and mother half distracted with anxiety, and the farm hands sent in all directions to look for us. We were at once, all three of us, put to bed, and made to drink hot lemonade, and have hot stones at our feet, and not till then tell all our experiences, which were listened to eagerly.
Daisy escaped unhurt, I with a slight cold, but Gerald and poor little Rough were the ones who suffered. Gerald had a severe attack of pneumonia, from which we had much ado to bring him back to health, and Rough was ill. They brought us the news from the stable on the next morning. We couldnt tell what was the matter; perhaps he had strained himself, perhaps had caught cold. We could not tell, nor could the veterinary surgeon we brought to see him. Poor Rough lay ill for weeks, and one bright spring morning he died.
They told us early in the morning, before we were out of bed, how, an hour ago, Rough had died.
THE MUSIC LESSON
TOUCH the keys lightly,
Nellie, my dear:
The noise makes Johnnie
Impatient, I fear.
He looks very cross,
I am sorry to see
Not looking at all
As a brother should be.
Whatever youre doing,
Bear this always in mind:
In all little things
Be both thoughtful and kind.
THE FROST
THE frost looked forth one still clear night,
And whispered, Now I shall be out of sight;
So through the valley and over the height
In silence Ill take my way:
I will not go on like that blustering train,
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,
Who make so much bustle and noise in vain,
But Ill be as busy as they.
Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest;
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed
In diamond beads; and over the breast
Of the quivering lake he spread
A coat of mail, that it need not fear
The downward point of many a spear
That he hung on its margin, far and near,
Where a rock could rear its head.
He went to the windows of those who slept,
And over each pane like a fairy crept:
Wherever he breathed, wherever he stept,
By the light of the moon were seen
Most beautiful things: there were flowers and trees;
There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees;
There were cities with temples and towers, and these
All pictured in silver sheen!
But he did one thing that was hardly fair:
He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there
That all had forgotten for him to prepare
Now, just to set them a-thinking,
Ill bite this basket of fruit, said he,
This costly pitcher Ill burst in three,
And the glass of water theyve left for me
Shall tchick! to tell them Im drinking.
MY PICTURE
I HAVE a little picture;
Perchance you have one too.
Mine is not set in frame of gold;
Tis first a bit of blue,
And then a background of dark hills
A river just below,
Along whose broad, green meadow banks
The wreathing elm trees grow.
Upon an overhanging ridge
A little farm-house stands,
Whose owner, like the man of old,
Has builded on the sands;
And yet, defying storms and wind,
It stands there all alone,
And brightens up the landscape
With a beauty of its own.
Fairy-like my picture changes
As the seasons come and go.
Now it glows neath summers kisses;
Now it sleeps mid winters snow.
I can see the breath of spring-time
In the rivers deeper blue,
And autumn seems to crown it
With her very brightest hue.
Ah. Id not exchange my picture
For the choicest gem of art;
Yet I must not claim it wholly;
It is only mine in part;
For tis one of natures sketches
A waif from that Great Hand
Which hath filled our earth with models
Of the beautiful and grand.
WHY?
WHY are the blossoms
Such different hues?
And the waves of the sea
Such a number of blues?
So many soft greens
Flit over the trees?
And little gray shadows
Fly out on the breeze?
Why are the insects
So wondrously fair;
Illumining grasses
And painting the air?
You dear little shells,
O, why do you shine?
And feathery sea-weed
Grow fragile and fine?
Why are the meadows
Such gardens of grace,
With infinite beauty
In definite space?
Each separate grass
A world of delight?
O, food for the cattle,
Why are you so bright?
Why are our faces
Such lovable things,
With lips made for kisses,
And laughter that sings?
With eyes full of love,
That sparkle and gleam,
Through beautiful colors,
That change like a dream?
Think for a moment
Look up to the sky;
Question your heart; it
Will answer the Why!
Bright is the glitter
Of beauty unfurled
Boundless the love that
Has fashioned the world!
BIRDS
THE wisdom of God is seen in every part of creation, and especially in the different kinds of birds. The beauty displayed in their graceful forms and varied colors strikes every beholder, while the adaptation of their organs for the purposes of flight, their peculiar habits and modes of living, are a constant source of admiration to the student of nature.
Almost everything about the shape of a bird fits it for moving rapidly in the air, and all parts of its body are arranged so as to give it lightness along with strength. The soft and delicate plumage of birds protects them from cold or moisture; their wings, though so delicate, are furnished with muscles of such power as to strike the air with great force, whilst their tails act like the rudder of a ship, so that they can direct their course at pleasure with the utmost ease.