1 
 
ALLY'S 
 EIRTH-DAY 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 GROOMBRIDGE AJSD SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW* 
 
' Ally, A1, come here ; quick ! — where's 
 Alice ? Mama wants her cried George 
 Taylor, a little boy of seven years old, rush- 
 ing into the nursery, and looking round 
 the room in search of his eldest sister. 
 
 'Ally and Bertie are in the garden/ said 
 his cousin Helen, who was reading at an 
 open window. ' I see them though ; they're 
 coming now, George.' 
 
 George, who was evidently brimful of 
 something very important, flew to the door 
 to catch Alice the moment she came in. 
 
 ' You must come to mama this very 
 moment, Al, in the dining-room, and tell 
 her what you want to do on your birth- 
 day.' 
 
 At the word birth-day, Helen shut her 
 book, little Mary threw down her doll, and 
 even Charlie, or, as he was more usually 
 called, ' baby,' stopped in the middle of 
 the Chinese wall he was building with his 
 bricks. 
 
 ' Oh ! Alice,' cried Helen, ' ask aunt to 
 let you have a throne in the bower ; and 
 we'll make a procession, and kneel down 
 with our presents, just like we did ou 
 Mary's birth-day.' 
 
ALLY S BIRTn-DAY 
 
 5 
 
 'No, no, — not the bower,' exclaimed her 
 brother Herbert, — ' I know what's best, 
 Al ; ask aunt to take us up on the hills, and 
 let's carry the tea-kettle, and George and 
 I go down to the well for water, and get 
 the sticks to light the fire, like we did 
 with cousin Frank, — that's the best fun.' 
 
 ' I know, I know. Ally, — have a feast in 
 the nursery,' cried little Mary. ^Mama will 
 give us some strawberries, and there's 
 your big cake. You can be Mrs. Smith, and 
 we'll all come to your house to tea, like 
 we did to Nelly's last time.' 
 
 ' Nonsense, Mary, — I mean you forget 
 that Nelly's birth-day was in the winter, 
 and so we couldn't go on the hills, and 
 were forced to have a feast,' said Alice. 
 ' What do you say, George ? you haven't 
 voted.' 
 
 * / say the hills, to be sure, and that's 
 what mama thought you'd choose : isn't 
 it mama V — turning to Mrs. Taylor, who 
 had just come in. 
 
 * Oh yes ! the hills,' cried all the chil- 
 dren together, * because of the rolling- 
 place. ^Iary may roll now, mayn't she 
 mama 1 You said she wasn't old enough 
 last summer.' 
 
 ' I don't think iMary will roll, but she 
 will like to look at you. There's another 
 reason besides in favour of the hills — papa's 
 going to Stourton on Wednesday morning, 
 and we'll ask INIrs. Parkes to come and 
 meet us, with Harry and Fanny.' 
 
6 
 
 ally's birtii-day. 
 
 ' And papa will come back with them, 
 perhaps,' said Alice. ^ Oh ! the hills, 
 mama, please, for certain.' 
 
 Mrs. Taylor went back to the dining- 
 room as soon as this was settled ; and 
 while the nursery-party are talking the 
 matter over amongst themselves, I must 
 take the opportunity of making them 
 better known to my young readers. 
 
 Alice, the eldest, whose birth-day was 
 coming the next day but one, would then 
 be eight years old. George, as I have 
 already said, was seven, little Mary four 
 and a-half, and Charlie, or baby, just two. 
 
 Helen and Herbert, or, as they were 
 commonly called, Nelly and Bertie, were 
 the children of Mrs. Taylor's sister who 
 w^as living with her husband in India. 
 Kow, it is so hot in India that people are 
 sometimes made ill by it ; and children are 
 generally sent to England to live and be edu- 
 cated until they are grown up and strong. 
 It was, therefore, a great comfort to Mr. 
 and Mrs. Rowlandson to know that their 
 little boy and girl would have such a nice 
 home as Ash field, during the years they 
 were obliged to remain in India. At the 
 time I am speaking of, Helen was between 
 seven and eight, and Herbert exactly a 
 year younger. They had been at Ashfield 
 nearly four years, and could remember 
 nothing hardly before they came there. 
 Herbert fancied papa was tall, but couldn't 
 cell why, and Helen was sure he used to 
 
ally's ^irth-day 
 
 7 
 
 put her on his back, and creep about on 
 the floor ; but she couldn't imagine Avhat 
 his face was like. Both remembered that 
 mama had a great many curls ; and that 
 she used to sing to them when they were 
 going to sleep. 
 
 But where is Ashfield ? is the next ques- 
 tion I shall be asked ; and what is it ? a 
 town, or a village, or only a house ? ^ 
 
 Ashfield is one of the prettiest villages 
 in the West of England, standing at the 
 foot of a chain of hills which reach back 
 almost to the sea. Close by runs a beauti- 
 ful little stream, the sound of which you 
 can hear from Mr. Taylor's garden ; indeed 
 it is so close that the orchard slopes down 
 to its bank. 
 
 In this garden and orchard, the cnildren. 
 had some delightful games — 'hide and seek,* 
 — ' follow the leader,' and I don't know 
 what besides. In the summer, when it was 
 too warm to run about, they made paper 
 boats, and let them float on the water or 
 else sat on the bank, watching the little 
 minnows darting about in the stream, and 
 telling tales, or reading some nice book. 
 
 There was a large ash-tree, which stood 
 exactly at the corner of the orchard, and 
 made a shady spot even in the hottest part 
 of the day. Here the children were allowed 
 to come every morning when lessons were 
 over, and stay until they heard the bell 
 ring for dinner ; and here they were all 
 sitting on the morning of the birth-day 
 
8 
 
 ally's birth-pay. 
 
 soon after breakfast, waiting for Bertie, 
 who had remained after the rest in the 
 dining-room. 
 
 ' Here he is,' cried George, who had 
 been peeping round the trunk of the tree 
 — ' cutting along at such a rate.' 
 
 ' Good news, good news ! ' cried Bertie, 
 quite out of breath between running fast 
 and delight, — ' only think ! we're not 
 going after dinner, like we did last time ; 
 but going to take dinner, and have it on 
 
 ' Oh. how nice !' ^ Oh, that will be jolly !' 
 ^ Who told you so ? ' ' Did mama say so ? * 
 were the exclamations that followed. 
 
 ' Aunt told me so herself : no, I mean 
 I heard her tell Sarah she must pack the 
 veal-pie by eleven o'clock, so we're sure to 
 be o(f then.' 
 
 ' How I wish 'twere eleven o'clock now ! 
 What shall we do till the time comes V 
 asked Helen. 
 
 ' Have a game at hare and hounds,* 
 suggested George. 
 
 * j&o, that would make us too tired to go 
 up the hills,' said Alice. ' Let's sit still 
 and read, or else talk. How I wish mama 
 would come out, and stay here till eleven 
 o'clock.' 
 
 ' Here aunt is, then ;' rejoined Bertie,who 
 had not sat down, and was standing with 
 his back to the rest. 
 
 * Well, my little girl, what do you want 
 mama for Y asked Mrs. Taylor. 
 
ally's birth-lay. 
 
 ^ Come and sit here please, mama,' sait, 
 Alice. ^ You must sit by me, because it's 
 my birth-day, you know.' 
 
 ' Very well,' said her mother, seating 
 herself between Alice and Nelly, while the 
 two boys placed themselves at her feet, 
 * this is very cozy and very nice ; but 
 what was it you wanted me for 1' 
 
 Alice coloured — ' Do you remember, 
 mama, last year we talked in the bower, 
 — only you and I, by ourselves ? I was 
 thinking just now how happy that birth- 
 day was ; and then I wished you would 
 say something like it this morning before 
 we go.' 
 
 ^ Do you recollect what we talked of last 
 year, Alice V asked ?iTrs. Taylor. 
 
 ' The story you told me, mama, about 
 the little girl, who w^orked in her garden, 
 and new flowers came in it every year ; 
 and the two boys who never touched theirs, 
 and so all the plants died. ' 
 
 * Where did the new flowers come from ? ' 
 asked Bertie, ' who put them in — the little 
 girir 
 
 ^ Oh,no,' said Alice, Hhat's the thing. She 
 took care of what was growing, and then 
 one night, every year, when she was asleep 
 —the night before her birth-day, shouldn't 
 you think, mama 1 — the master of the gar- 
 den sent somebody to put in another flower ; 
 and when she went out in the morning there 
 she saw it, looking so beautiful.' 
 
 * And when the garden was full of flowers, 
 what did she do then ]' asked George. 
 
ally's BlilTH-DAY. 
 
 ' Oh, before it was full, she went to live 
 in the place where the flowers came from. 
 Then her brothers were sorry because she 
 was gone, and began to mind their gardens 
 that they might go there too ; and they 
 did, didn't they, mama ? ' 
 
 think so, my love : but I don't remem- 
 L^r that part of the story so well as the 
 o\\ers.' 
 
 ' Hasn't it got a meaning, aunt, like the 
 Pilgrim's Progress V inquired Helen. 
 
 ^ Has it, mama ; what is it l ' said George. 
 
 ^ It has a meaning, but I leave you to find 
 out what. I am sure you can make it out 
 between you.' 
 
 ' I think I know about the garden,' re- 
 plied Alice, ' it means all the things we 
 ought to do ; and doing what you tell us 
 to do is working in it. But I can't think 
 w^hat the flowers are that come afterwards.' 
 
 ' Holidays', suggested Bertie, ' going on 
 the hills.' 
 
 ^ Is it any thing about being happy?' 
 asked George. 
 
 ' I know, I know, aunt,' cried Helen. 
 ^ It's like learning to read, isn't it ! ' 
 
 ' I'm sure, by mama's face^ that's right,' 
 observed George. 
 
 ^ I must know what Nelly means before 
 / can be sure,' said Mrs. Taylor. 
 
 * Don't you know, aunt, what little 
 words we began with, — ^go' and *if,' and 
 words of two letters ? Then w^e got bigger 
 ones, and bigger ones again, until we could 
 
ally's BIRTU-I)AY. 
 
 11 
 
 read all that were in the book. Isn't that 
 like the little girFs garden.' 
 
 ^ Not exactly like, my love, but near 
 enough to help you to understand the 
 story. Can you see now why the flowers 
 came, Alice 1 ' 
 
 * Oh yes, mama, it's much easier now. 
 I think it means that when we've done any- 
 thing good, we know the way to do more, 
 and then another flower comes for us to 
 take care of.' 
 
 The other children nodded their heads 
 in approval, and Alice went on : 
 
 * I should like, mama, to make some 
 flower grow by next birth-day ; and then, 
 when we sit here after breakfast, we can 
 talk about the story again. I shall try to 
 do things without your telling me so often 
 — can't I finish Susan Grant's pinafore 
 the while 1 — it's only to hem the arm-holes 
 — and take it to her before we go.' 
 
 ' Yes, let's all have something to do by 
 next year,' said Helen ; ' I'll try not to 
 be cross with any body, and Bertie' 
 
 ' Stop, let Bertie think for himself,' said 
 Mrs. Taylor. 
 
 ' I won't kick when nurse brushes my 
 hair.' 
 
 ^ You mean you won't be passionate,' 
 replied his aunt, * now, George !' 
 
 ^ I won't always have the game that / 
 like ; but let Bertie and the girls choose 
 oftener.' 
 
 ^ Very well' said IMrs. Taylor ; ^ the 
 
12 
 
 ally's birth-day. 
 
 tiling now is to remember what we have 
 been talking of just at the moment you 
 feel inclined to do wrong. And now^ if you 
 want to finish your pinafore, Alice, there's 
 no time to be lost ; and while you're about 
 it Nelly and I will go and pack the basket.' 
 
 By eleven o'clock they were all ready ; 
 and a funny party they looked as they 
 passed through the village. First came 
 the children's grand favourite, Bruno, a 
 large Newfoundland dog, then the two 
 eldest boys, with enormous walking-sticks, 
 and woollen shawls twisted round their 
 waists. Next followed Selim, the pony, on 
 which rode Helen and a large tea-kettle. 
 Close behind was the donkey, with its 
 Spanish-saddle, in which Mary and Charlie 
 were nodding very comfortably at one an- 
 other. A step behind these came nurse, 
 with an immense green umbrella in one 
 hand, and with the other helping J oseph, 
 a lad of the village, to carry the provision- 
 basket. The procession was brought up 
 by Mrs. Taylor and Alice, each carrying a 
 basket of fruit. 
 
 It was rather a fatiguing walk ; but at 
 last they reached the rolling-place, where 
 they all sat down for a time. After turn- 
 ing the pony and donkey away to graze, 
 the boys rushed off to the well for the 
 water for dinner, and on their way back 
 met Mrs. Taylor, with Mrs. Parkes and her 
 children, coming up the hill from Stourton. 
 
 The arrival of so large a party was the 
 
ally's BIKTII-DAY 
 
 13 
 
 occasion of much cheering, and prepara- 
 tions for dinner commenced in good ear- 
 nest. Many delightful discoveries ^vero 
 made ; but the best of all was, that there 
 were neither knives nor plates, so that the 
 veal-patties and currant-tarts had to be 
 eaten in their fingers. 
 
 Dinner over, the children applied them- 
 selves to the business of the day — namely, 
 rolling ; a process Vt^hich some of my young 
 readers may not have seen, and which, for 
 their benefit, I will describe. 
 
 At the top of a short, grassy slope sit 
 the grown-up people of the party, who tie 
 the young ladies' petticoats round their 
 ankles with handkerchiefs, and then, as 
 they lie on the grass, give tiiem a push, 
 sending their brothers after in about half 
 a minute. Now the going down is easy 
 enough ; not so the coming up again : for 
 
14 
 
 ally's biutu-bay. 
 
 the girls think it would he poor fun to 
 untie the handkerchief, and put it on again 
 every time. Their brothers, impatient 
 as they are to get on, make it a point of 
 honour not to leave them without help ; 
 and so, between eagerness and bandages, 
 the whole party go tumbling about, — now 
 up, and now down, now forwards, and now 
 backwards, — to the extreme delight of little 
 Charlie, who claps his hands at every fresh 
 attempt, and considers the whole scene got 
 up for his especial entertainment. 
 
 When papa and mama thought there 
 had been enough of this, — for it would 
 have been useless to wait until the chil- 
 dren were tired, — the handkerchiefs were 
 taken off, and the difficult question came : 
 — what should they do next ? 
 
 ^ Anybody ready to go home with me V 
 asked Mr^ Taylor, mounting his horse, and 
 preparing to depart/ 
 
 ' Oh papa ! can't you stay to tea V said 
 Alice. ^ Can't you this once, because it's 
 ray birth-day V 
 
 ' No, my little woman, not even because 
 it's your birth-day can I leave my duty 
 undone,' replied her father. 
 
 ' That's how pa})a works in his garden/ 
 thought Alice to herself; and I suppose the 
 people he cures are his flowers.' 
 
 ^ Good-bye, papa, good-bye,' cried all the 
 children, as he turned round and waved 
 his hand at the brow of the hill. 
 
 ' Come; now, don't lose so much time, 
 
ALLY S BIRTII-DAY. 
 
 15 
 
 let's be doing somef/ting' exclaimed Fanny 
 Parkes, an active little girl, a few months 
 older than Alice. 
 
 ' Well, what shall it be V said the latter. 
 
 ^ Hare and hounds' was the cry of one, 
 ^hide and seek,' exclaimed another, ' follow 
 the leader,' said a third ; and so they went 
 on, until George, who had been the loudest 
 of all, suddenly remembering his good reso- 
 lution, said, 'No, no, Alice ; It's your birth- 
 day, you ought to choose.' 
 
 ' Yes, let Alice choose, Alice shall 
 choose,' cried all the children together. 
 
 She did so : and contrived that everybody 
 should have their favourite game before 
 they were too tired to play any longer. 
 When this happened, they went back to 
 the rolling-place, to see what had been 
 going on there. They found that their 
 mothers had gone away looking for Howers, 
 and that nurse was preparing to light the 
 fire for tea, while Charlie and Mary 
 tumbled about on the grass. 
 
 George and Bertie begged that the fire 
 might be left entirely to them, having a 
 notion that they could make it, as they 
 had heard the Indians did, by rubbing two 
 sticks together. Xurse, on the other hand, 
 neither understanding nor admiring such 
 outlandish practices, took out a lucifer- 
 box which she gave to Bertie to hold for 
 a moment. The matter had been argued 
 several times, and George had run away to 
 the rest, when Bertie exclaimed, ' Now, do 
 
16 
 
 ally's birth-day. 
 
 nurse wait a minute, and let me have this 
 one try, — I've got two such capital sticks.' 
 
 ' I tell you what 'tis, Master Bertie, — if 
 we stop till your fire burns, we may wait 
 till to-morrow breakfast time. And there's 
 your mama will be back in a minute, and 
 dear baby's wanting his tea, so give me 
 the lucifer-box, that's a good boy.' 
 
 But Bertie was not a good boy, and 
 instead of giving up the box held it fast. 
 Having asked for it once more, nurse took 
 it out of his hand, whereupon he threw 
 himself down on the grass, kicking and 
 roaring with all his might. 
 
 ' Bertie !' cried Helen, running up to 
 him, ^ how can you be naughty to-day ? — 
 it will vex Alice.' 
 
 ' It's all nurse's fault,' blubbered Master 
 Bertie, ^ she's so cross she won't let me try 
 to make a tire.' 
 
 ^ I'm sure I've no objection to your 
 making a fire, now I've got my kettle on,' 
 replied nurse. 
 
 ' But it's the fire for tea I wanted to 
 make,' sobbed Bertie, bursting out afresh : 
 ' I don't care for any other fire. Oh dear ! 
 how unkind you are.' 
 
 ^Bertie dear,' whispered his sister, as 
 she stooped down beside him, ' why didn't 
 you come away when George did. Then 
 you wouldn't have forgot what you pro- 
 mised aunt this morning. Now jump up 
 and kiss nurse before the rest come, that's 
 a dear.' 
 
ally's birth-bat. 
 
 17 
 
 Bertie lay still and rubbed his eyes a few 
 moments ; but at last got up pretty cheer- 
 fully, and went towards nurse, who, seeing 
 he looked both sorry and ashamed, kissed 
 him kindly, and said no more. 
 
 After this, every thing went on very 
 pleasantly. I need not describe how much 
 bread and butter was eaten, and how many 
 cups of tea were drunk. Those of my 
 readers who have had tea out of doors can 
 imagine it for themselves, and those who 
 have not, would never believe it if I told 
 them. The donkey-party, under the care 
 of nurse, were sent on, the moment tea was 
 over ; and the others, having taken leave of 
 the Parkes-es, whose road home lay a differ- 
 ent way, prepared to follow at seven o'clock. 
 Bruno, considering himself slighted, — and 
 not without reason, for the children had 
 been too busy with each other to pay 
 much attention to him, — insisted on keep- 
 ing in the middle all the way home, in 
 order that he might be patted and spoken 
 to from time to time. Selim, too, without 
 seeking it, received a great deal more 
 attention than he had done in the morn- 
 ing. Thcn^ every body was unwilling to 
 ride, and when Helen got off, there was 
 only her aunt or Alice to take her place ; 
 nom^ the boys made the discovery, all of a 
 sudden, that Selim liked having two on 
 his back better than one ; and, as far as 
 they themselves were concerned, were de- 
 cidedly of opinion that it was great fun 
 riding double. 
 
18 
 
 ally's BIRTll-DAY. 
 
 ^ There's papa, I declare/ cried George, as 
 the pony turned out of a lane on the open 
 hill-side, Hhere he is, look ! at the bottou 
 of the hill, just coming round the corner.' 
 
 ' Oh, papa, we had such capital fun after 
 you went away — such a glorious game at 
 follow the leader. I led them round by 
 the plantation, and up to the wishing-gate, 
 and back again by the stone stile ; and Al 
 stuck upon the top of it, and couldn't get 
 down, one side or the other, till we went 
 back and helped her.' 
 
 ' papa, it's been such a nice day alto- 
 gether/ said Alice, as she wished him good- 
 night. ' Not only fun, you know, but we 
 thought of such nice things this morning. 
 Mama will tell you what I mean — good- 
 night, dear papa.' 
 
 About four o'clock one afternoon, a week 
 or so after the holiday just described, Mrs. 
 Taylor opened the door of the dining-room, 
 where the children were preparing their 
 lessons for the next day, with an invi- 
 tation — ' Come children, I want any of you 
 that are ready, to help me to pick rasp- 
 berries for preserving ; the others may 
 come to us as soon as they have finished 
 their lessons. 
 
 Helen jumped up directly, — ^I've just 
 found the last place I was looking for in 
 the map — I'm ready now, aunt.' 
 
 ^Mama, I haven't nearly finished the sum 
 you set me/ said Alice, sorrowfully. ' What 
 
ally's birth-DAT. 
 
 a pity pussy came into the room — she's 
 hindered me so !' 
 
 ' You mean what a pity you stopped to 
 play with her, my love,' answered her 
 mother, ^for, if you hadn't, I don't see how 
 she could have hindered you.' 
 
 Alice blushed, and looked at her sum, to 
 see whereabouts she was, for pussy had 
 put it quite out of her head. She found 
 that the lines already done had been rubbed 
 out, through leaning her arm on the slate 
 whilst looking at pussy, and that she must 
 begin it over again. 
 
 This was a terrible disappointment ; for 
 if there was one thing Alice liked better than 
 another, — always excepting talking under 
 the ash-tree, — it was gathering fruit after 
 lessons wxre over, especially when mama 
 was with them. 
 
 * If I had but stopped playing with pussy 
 when Nelly did, I should have been ready 
 by this time,' she said to herself — ' Now, 
 they'll have gathered, oh, they'll have ga- 
 thered a big dish full by the time I get out. 
 What a pity ! for this is the last time 
 mama's going to make preserve this year. 
 I heard her saying so to Sarah yesterday.' 
 
 From these sad thouc;hts Alice was roused 
 by Helen, who came up to her with her 
 bonnet on. ' Make haste, Al, dear. Oh, 
 'tisn't half such a big sum as I tliought it 
 "vras. Make haste, and you'll be out by the 
 time we've done the first row, I dare say.' 
 
 How different the sum looked to Alice 
 
20 
 
 ally's birth-day. 
 
 directly after these cheering words ; she 
 could hardly believe it was the same. 
 Only stopping to give Helen a kiss, she 
 leant forward on the table, determined not 
 to look at any thing, or think of any thing, 
 until it was done. 
 
 This plan succeeded so well, that she got 
 on to her own astonishment : in fact, the 
 sum was finished, and Alice in the garden 
 before the big dish was three parts full. 
 
 ' That's right, here's Ally,' cried all the 
 children together, as she ran up to the 
 bushes, and placed herself between her 
 mama and cousin. 
 
 ' How quick you've been,' said the latter 
 * quicker even than I thought you could 
 be when I came out.' 
 
 ' The time has passed pleasantly,' ob- 
 served Mrs. Taylor, ' and that makes it seem 
 shorter. Still, you've been very quick, my 
 little girl, and I'm pleased to find you can 
 command your attention when you try.' 
 
 * mama, I wish I'd tried sooner though ! 
 It was just like getting out of bed when 
 nurse calls us. I kept on thinking I'll only 
 have this one turn more, and when I'd had 
 it, I thought I'd just have another, and so 
 I kept on. How hard it is, mama, just 
 to begin any thing : it's nothing at all 
 when that's done.' 
 
 Her mother agreed that it was very hard, 
 and comforted Alice by saying, she often 
 found it so herself. 
 
 ' You, mama V replied Alice, ^ do you 
 
ally's birth-day. 
 
 21 
 
 mean to say you think you'll get out of bed 
 ever so many times ]3efore you do ? I 
 thought it was only children that did 
 that.' 
 
 ' It ought to be only children,' said her 
 mother, smiling : ^ but I'm afraid we all 
 do it sometimes, and a great many other 
 things like it.' 
 
 ^But aunt,' said Bertie, ^nobody tells you 
 to get up, so 'tisn't naughty to stay in bed.' 
 
 ' Bertie, Bertie,' rejoined both the girls, 
 — ' wouldn't it be naughty not to get up at 
 seven o'clock even if nurse didn't call us V 
 
 ' Yes,' said George, ' but that's because 
 we've been told to get up at seven other 
 mornings : would it be naughty if we 
 hadn't V 
 
 Alice had nothing to say in reply, but 
 she looked far from satisfied, and turned 
 to her mother. 
 
 ^ You want me to explain it, my love, I 
 see — first try if you can't find it out for 
 yourself.' 
 
 After a long pause, during which all the 
 party looked grave, Alice suddenly ex- 
 claimed, ' Mama I nearly know : thinking 
 of my birth-day has put it into my head. 
 You and papa, have gardens like ours.' — 
 * Bigger ones,' interrupted George. 
 
 ^ Yes, bigger ones, and you work as 
 hard as we do, because they are so big.' 
 
 ^ Yes,' interposed Helen, ' it's like Thomas 
 digging a whole bed while George and Bertie 
 only do a tiny piece with their trowels.' 
 
22 
 
 ally's BIllTH-DAY 
 
 ^ But Thomas is used to it, and we are 
 not,' replied George, not greatly admir- 
 ing the example his cousin had chosen. 
 
 ^ That's what I mean,' said Helen : ' and 
 so uncle and aunt are able to do a great 
 deal more than we, because they're older, 
 and that's why their garden is so big.' 
 
 ' mama, how nice it all comes !' cried 
 Alice. * Thomas doesn't do what he likes, 
 but asks you hrst what he shall put in 
 the beds : and so you do wliat God says, 
 and then you tell us, just as Thomas shows 
 the boys.' 
 
 ' Now, then, Bertie,' said his aunt, ^ you 
 see why it's wrong not to get up, even if 
 we haven t been bid. It isn't only being 
 told to do it that makes any thing a duty, 
 but the knowing of ourselves that we ought. 
 So, if grown-up people have no one to tell 
 them what they should do, it is because 
 they know it very well of themselves. For 
 instance, God sends us all into the world to 
 work and be industrious ; and so we know 
 it must be wrong to lie in bed after we 
 have had sleep enough, even if nobody ever 
 told us so.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Alice, ' it's like when I stay 
 up sometimes after nine, and you haven't 
 told me that I may. After the clock strikes, 
 it isn't like it was before ; because I think 
 you meant to tell me to go, only you for- 
 got it.' 
 
 ' Forgot what ?' asked Mr. Taylor, coming 
 up just in time to hear the last word — 
 
ally's birth-day. 
 
 23 
 
 * tea time I should think : it's ever so much 
 after six/ 
 
 ' Mama, shall I run on and tell them to 
 bring in tea by the time you're in V asked 
 Alice. 
 
 • JSTo, no, wait a bit/ said her father, 
 
 * and we'll all go in together.' He smiled, 
 as he said so, and took Alice by the hand, 
 and they all went on very quietly until 
 they came to the dining-room door ; but 
 on reaching this, a loud shout was set up 
 by the foremost, who happened to be Bertie, 
 and a cry, which was soon echoed by the 
 others, of ' cousin Frank : cousin P'rank's 
 come 
 
24 
 
 ally's birth-day. 
 
 Yes : there cousin Frank really was— 
 peeping out from behind tlie door, in his 
 impatience to see if the children were com- 
 ing, instead of sitting still, as Mr. Taylor 
 had admonished him to do, at the other 
 end of the room, so as not to be seen until 
 they were all in. However^ it made very 
 little difference in the end. The shouting 
 could not well have been louder, or the 
 hugging more hearty. If anything, per- 
 haps there was a little too much of the 
 latter, for the unfortunate stranger was so 
 completely borne down by his affectionate 
 friends who clung to his neck, and twisted 
 themselves about him, like so many little 
 serpents, that his rescue could only be 
 effected by the combined efforts of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Taylor, who conducted him safely to 
 the table, where it was made unlawful to 
 lay hands upon him again until after tea. 
 
 The children discovered, to their great 
 satisfaction, that he hadn't been above ten 
 minutes in the house, having ridden home 
 from C — , with Mr. Taylor, who knew he 
 was coming, and met him at the Station 
 with the gig. 
 
 ' That's why papa was in such a hurry, 
 then,' said Alice to her cousin. 
 
 ^ Yes : and why he asked us all what he 
 should bring us home,' replied ]Nelly. 
 
 The rest of the evening was spent in 
 visiting all the out-of-door places ; and this 
 was a longer business than any one would 
 suppose ; for, as the pjp-ty were much too 
 
ally's birth-day 
 
 25 
 
 happy to have anything like method in 
 their doings, they were continually going 
 backwards and forwards, as some fresh 
 thought occurred to them. Helen was 
 shocked to find that they had quite for- 
 gotten the rabbits, and insisted on going 
 back before they went into the orchard ; 
 but George assured her that the dogs had 
 also been lost sight of, which was a great 
 deal worse. 
 
 This arrival, I need hardly say, made a 
 change in the family : it being the esta- 
 bhshed custom whenever cousin Frank 
 came, as he never staid very long, to set 
 aside lessons, excepting drawing, which he 
 liked to teach them ; and the few minutes 
 before breakfast, which they called their 
 ' happy time,' when their mama told them 
 stories out of the bible, or explained pic- 
 tures, and talked about them. 
 
 How, then, did they spend the long 
 summer day ? In more ways than children 
 who have not lived in the country could 
 ever imagine. In the first place, there 
 were the chickens and rabbits to be seen 
 to, as usual, between breakfast and prayers. 
 Afterwards there was generally a long draw- 
 ing lesson, and then a good scamper over 
 the garden and orchard, which often ended 
 m cousin Frank's fetching his colour-box 
 and sketch-book, and establishing himself 
 under the ash-tree, where they all sat 
 very comfortably until somebody came, or 
 until they heard the bell ring for dinner. 
 
26 
 
 ally's birth-day. 
 
 But what did they talk of all this time ! 
 If I could give you any notion of the num- 
 ber of things they thought and spoke of, 
 1 should be clever indeed. Sometimes, the 
 subject was the Avonders of London, which 
 their cousin dearly loved to describe, and 
 of wliich he brought a fresli account every 
 year. Sometimes, they discussed the books 
 they had lately been reading or hearing, 
 and remarked on the people they liked best 
 m them. Sometimes — and this was best of 
 all — cousin Frank would suddenly think of 
 some story that had delighted him as a 
 child, and remember it for them as well 
 as he could. One niorning, they had been 
 learning a great many different things, 
 and for once were nearly tired of wonders. 
 George had just asked the question he 
 was accustomed to ask about twice a-day. 
 * Cousin Frank, wlien shall you go to Italy V 
 and had received the usual answer, ' I 
 don't know for certain, old boy, but I sup- 
 pose next year and this had brought the 
 customary look of sorrow on the faces of 
 the children, for they couldn't bear to 
 think of losing their cousin's visit, when 
 he remembered all at once a story he had 
 never yet told them, which, indeed, he had 
 so nearly forgotten that he doubted if he 
 should be able to relate it. 
 
 ' Oh yes ! I'm sure you will — do try, do 
 try,' cried all the children ; for the very 
 mention of a story had turned the sad 
 faces into smiling ones, and eager and 
 
ally's birth-day. 27 
 
 delighted looks were fixed on their cousin, 
 as they exclaimed, — * do try ; do begin !' 
 
 < Well, ril begin directly : but mind it 
 won't ])c like the one I told you last. I 
 remembered that very well ; but this 
 fellow I'd nearly forgot altogether.' 
 
 ' Wait a minute, please, cousin Frank/ 
 said Helen, coming closer to his knees, 
 and turning round so that she might see 
 the story in his face, as well as hear it iu 
 his voice. 
 
 * Come Al,' putting her arm round her 
 waist, ' now that's right, — now begin 
 directly please, cousin Frank.' 
 
 ' Ml right V he inquired. The children 
 all nodded. ' Very well,' — here goes then : 
 
 ' Once upon a time,' — But here he was 
 interrupted by a loud shout, expressing 
 their delight and approbation at so very 
 orthodox and proper a commencement. 
 Much was expected from a story that 
 began so well, and Helen gave it as her 
 opinion, in a whisper to Alice, that it 
 would be better than the last, for that only 
 began with, — ' there was once a man.' 
 
 When quiet was restored, their cousin 
 went on : — 
 
 ' Once upon a time, in a country a long- 
 way from England, there lived two men, 
 who were very great friends. Now, these 
 men were Mahometans, — that is to say, 
 they had been taught to believe in a pro- 
 phet, named Mahomet, and to read a book 
 he wrote for them, called the Koran, and 
 
28 
 
 ally's birth-day 
 
 had never heard of Jesus Christ and the 
 Bible.' 
 
 ' Now, one of the things that the Koran 
 tells all who believe in it to do, is to go on 
 pilgrimage at least once in their lives. But 
 first, do you remember what I told you a 
 long time ago about pilgrims V 
 
 ' yes !' cried Alice, ' about men going 
 all across the world, such a long way to 
 see the manger that Christ slept in when 
 he was a little baby.' 
 
 ^ And about their picking flowers and 
 bringing them home to show the people 
 where they'd been,' said Helen. 
 
 ' Gathering palm branches, you mean : 
 yes, I see you've not forgotten it. Well, 
 just in the same way as christians used to 
 think the best thing they could do was to 
 visit the places where Christ lived and 
 died, so these Mahometans consider it to 
 be their duty to go and see the place where 
 Mahomet is buried ; and all of them that 
 are good and pious can't feel happy at the 
 thought of dying till they've been.' 
 
 ' But what good does it do them V in- 
 terrupted George. 
 
 ' What good does it do you when you've 
 been obedient and done what you were 
 told ] It's just the same thing.' 
 
 ' But' 
 
 ^Now don't George,' intreated all three of 
 the children at once^ ' do stop till the story's 
 finished.' 
 
 ' Well, then, we go back to the two men 
 
ally's birth-DAT. 
 
 29 
 
 who were such very good friends. Now, 
 it happened that both of them were mer- 
 chants — you know what that means ? 
 j[ot that they kept shops, and had signs 
 over their doors, but that they sent ships 
 and camels into all the countries round 
 about, to sell some things and buy others. 
 One of these merchants was called Hassan, 
 and the other Selim : and Hassan being 
 a pious man, had been thinking a long 
 time about going on pilgrimage. Well, 
 after turning the matter over in his mind 
 a great many times, he said to himself one 
 day, ' it's no use putting it off any longer ; 
 ril begin to prepare to go at once.' ' 
 
 * Hadn't he any wife to pack up his 
 things ? ' asked Alice. 
 
 ^ Not that I know of ; but it wasn't 
 packing up his things that gave him most 
 trouble ; it was how to keep his money safe 
 till he came back again.' 
 
 ^ But why didn't he take it with him ] 
 inquired George. 
 
 * Because the country he had to pass 
 through was very different from this, and 
 instead of good roads and quiet people, he 
 was going across great plains of sand, where 
 there wasn't a house to be seen for hun- 
 dreds of miles, and where robbers would 
 come out from their hiding places, troops 
 of them together, and beat travellers, and 
 take away every thing they had.* 
 
 *I don't think I could ever be a pilgrim/ 
 said Alice. 
 
30 
 
 ally's birth-DAT. 
 
 * Not unless yon believed, as Hassan did, 
 that it was your duty, and that you ought. 
 — Well, as I said before, he couldn't tell 
 what to do with his money. 
 
 'Why didn't he make a hole in his 
 garden?' observed Bertie, 'and put it 
 down there very deep ; that's what Fd 
 have done.' 
 
 ' I suppose he was afraid people might 
 dig there, and fmd it. However, now that 
 you know what he didn't do, perhaps you 
 would like me to tell you what he did.' 
 
 ' First, he sold every thing he had, and 
 took all the money he got by this, and all 
 that he had before, and went and bought 
 a large diamond with it.' 
 
 ' One diamond ! only one diamond with 
 all his money ! wasn't ho a rich man V 
 
 lie was — a very rich man — and he could 
 Bell this diamond again when he came 
 home, and get all the money back that he 
 gave for it. 
 
 ' He bought it because 'twas so small 
 he could hide it away, didn't he, cousin 
 Frank l ' inquired Helen—' but suppose he 
 lost it V 
 
 ' Oh, suppose he was to !' cried all the 
 children. 
 
 ' Well, in order that he might not, he 
 went and got a man to make him a cash- 
 mere bag, that is a bag of very hne soft 
 stuff, and the diamond was put in before 
 the bag was sown up, and the stuff was so 
 fine, and so cleverly made, that you couldn't 
 
ally's birtii-day. 
 
 31 
 
 open it to get out the diamond, without 
 its being seen,'^ 
 
 ' What a capital plan ! but where did he 
 put it, cousin Frank 'I 1 hope 'twas in a 
 safe place.' 
 
 ^ As soon as every thing was ready for 
 starting, he went to his friend Selim, and 
 told him what he had done, and showed 
 him the cashmere bag : and then he said 
 he had brought it to him to keep while he 
 was away, because he knew he would take 
 care of it, and give it safely back/ 
 
 'This Selim promised to do ; and, after 
 saying good-by to each other very affec- 
 tionately, they parted ; and Hassan joined 
 a company of pilgrims, who were going to 
 set off that very day.' 
 
 ' And did he come home again all safe V 
 
 'He came home again all safe : and of 
 course the first thing he did, was to go to 
 SeHm for his diamond. Selim appeared 
 delighted to see him, and gave him the 
 cashmere bag, which he carried home. But 
 when he came to open it, — which you may 
 be sure he did when no one was near, ima- 
 gine how surprised he felt at finding that 
 the diamond was gone.' 
 
 ^ Gone ! ' exclaimed all the children— 
 ^you said it couldn't be taken out of the 
 bag without being found out.' 
 
 ' So I did, for so Hassan believed at the 
 time : but you see he was mistaken, as 
 people are apt to be.' 
 
 ^Cousin Frank/ asked Helen, ^did Selim 
 
32 
 
 ally's birth-pay. 
 
 know the diamond was taken away wlienho 
 gave it him back i ' 
 
 AVhen he gave the bag back, you mean. 
 Why, at first Hassan thought he couldn't : 
 so he went and told him of it, and asked 
 if he had given it to any other person to 
 keep. But Selim Hew into a passion di 
 rectly, and declared the diamond was in 
 the bag when he returned it ; and then 
 Hassan felt pretty sure in his own mind, 
 that he was the thief. Still, as no one was 
 by when he opened the bag, he couldn't 
 make other people believe his story ; espe- 
 cially as Selim was always thought an 
 honest man, and bore as good a cliaracter 
 as Hassan himself.' 
 
 ^ Poor Hassan ! what did he do ?' cried 
 Alice. 
 
 ' Gave Selim a good thrashing, I hope,' 
 said George. 
 
 * Perhaps he would, if he had seen how 
 that was to get back his diamond ; but, as 
 he didn't, he thought of something else.* 
 
 ^ In the country in which they lived 
 there was a magistrate, called the Cadi, 
 who governed the people, and told them 
 what to do. The Cadi at this time was a 
 good and wise man, and Hassan could 
 think of nothing better than to go and tell 
 his story to him.' 
 
 ' And what did the Cadi say ? ' 
 
 * He listened very attentively, and made 
 Hassan tell him how the bag was fastened, 
 and where it had been kept, and every 
 
ally's birth-DAT 
 
 33 
 
 thing else about it. Then he told him to 
 gr^y nothing to anybody, but go home and 
 be quiet until he sent for him.' 
 
 < What was he going to do ? ' said Alice. 
 ^ To make Selira tell him where he'd put 
 
 the diamond, to be sure,' answered Helen. 
 
 < Or else to send him to prison till it was 
 found,' suggested George. 
 
 ^ But supposing he hadn't taken it — and 
 'twas impossible to be quite sure — that 
 would have been very unjust. No, the first 
 thing was to make sure that he had : and 
 this was what the Cadi set about forthwith.* 
 
 < What did he do ] do make haste/ cried 
 the impatient Helen. 
 
 < Wait a bit — I must explain something 
 first.' 
 
 ^You know that the people in these 
 Eastern countries are not accustomed to sit 
 upright on chairs, as we do, but recline — 
 that is lean back — on carpets and cushions 
 piled one on another. You know, too, that 
 these carpets are more beautiful than ours, 
 and cost a great deal more money. One 
 thing besides — the Cadi or chief man, what- 
 ever he may be called, does exactly as he 
 pleases to every body ; and if any of his 
 servants offend him in any way, he has only 
 to speak the word, and their heads may be 
 taken off in a minute.' 
 
 ' Now, then, if you remember all this, 
 you'll be able to understand what's coming. 
 You recollect where we were V 
 
 ' The Cadi was going to find out if Selim 
 erot the diamond,'^ said Helen. 
 
34 
 
 ALLY S BIKTH-DAY. 
 
 ^ Stop, there's one thing more I have not 
 explained. A Mahometan church is called 
 a mosque ; and these mosques, instead ot 
 being shut every day but Sunday, are kept 
 open always, so that people may go in and 
 say their prayers at any time/ 
 
 ' But there's nothing about the diamond 
 in this,' interrupted George. 
 
 ' Have patience, and you'll see that there 
 is. — When the Cadi had heard Hassan's 
 story, he went straight to church, — that is 
 to the mosque, — part of which was kept 
 on purpose for him, and shut in from the 
 rest of the people. Here, instead of benches 
 and hassocks, he had carpets to kneel on ; 
 and after saying his prayers, he took his 
 scimitar, — that is the hooked sword they 
 use in those countries, and cut the carpets 
 through and through.' 
 
 ' I never, — w^hat was that for !' 
 
 ' Well, the next time he went he looked 
 about for the holes, but found they were 
 all so beautifully mended that nobody who 
 hadn't know^n it could ever have found out 
 that the carpets had been cut. This was 
 just what he expected ; so, as soon as he got 
 home, he sent for one of his servants, — the 
 one whose business it was to look after 
 these things, — and insisted on his telling 
 him that very moment w^ho had mended 
 the carpets in the mosque. 
 
 'The poor fellow, who had no notion until 
 then, that the Cadi knew any thing about 
 it, began to tremble from head to foot, 
 
ally's birth-day. 
 
 35 
 
 expecting the next moment to be told that 
 he must lose his head for having let the 
 carpets be cut. You may suppose how 
 delighted he ^vas when his master never 
 said a word about killing him ; but only 
 told him to go and fetch the man he had 
 got to mend them, and bring him without 
 saying who wanted him. At the same 
 time the Cadi sent other servants for 
 Hassan and Selim ; and, as they were all 
 three put into different rooms, none of 
 them knew in the least what was going on. 
 Hassan, of course, was not surprised at 
 being sent for after what the Cadi had said. 
 Selim thought the Cadi wanted to ask his 
 advice about something, as he had done 
 once or twice before. And the carpet- 
 mender, no doubt, imagined there was 
 another job ready for him, for which he 
 was to be well paid. 
 
 ^ Well, while they are all thinking these 
 different things, the Cadi goes up to the 
 carpet-mender, and asks if he is the man 
 that sowed up the Cadi's carpets in the 
 mosque. The man says yes, and begins 
 to be afraid ; and then the Cadi looks at 
 him with a terrible face, — just like this — 
 (here cousin Frank, knitting his eye-brows, 
 and rolling his eyes, made what Helen 
 called ^lis worst face of all,') — and when 
 the man begins to shiver as if he'd got the 
 ague, the Cadi says to him : Hell me hosv 
 long ago it was you sewed up a cashmere 
 ^^g for Selim the merchant.' ' 
 
26 
 
 ally's birth-day. 
 
 * The moment the man heard this he the 
 down upon his face at the Cadi's feet, and 
 begged for mercy. The Cadi promised to 
 forgive him upon condition that he gave 
 Hassan all the money he had been paid for 
 keeping the secret. Then the Cadi sent 
 for Selim, who was so terrified at the sight 
 of the carpet-mender that he fell down 
 upon his face, too, and offered to restore 
 the diamond if the Cadi would forgive him.' 
 
 'And did he 'I I hope he chopped his head 
 off instead,' cried George. 
 
 ^ George is so cruel, he wants every body 
 to be killed,' said Alice. 
 
 ' ]N'ot every body, replied George indig- 
 nantly, only wicked people ; and they ought 
 to be. If I was King, or Cadi, or like that, 
 I'd have their heads off, every one of 'em.' 
 
 ' But as part of the duty of a King, or 
 Cadi, is to make his subjects better, and 
 so become to die before that time comes, 
 it's quite as w^ell that youVe nothing to do 
 with it at present,' said cousin Frank. 
 
 George looked a little disconcerted, and 
 Bertie interposed, ' but did the Cadi kill 
 him ? you didn't tell us.' 
 
 'Weil, this part of the story I really have 
 forgotten, so you may imagine that he did 
 or did not, just as you like. George can 
 kill him, and Alice can reform him, and so 
 every body will be satisfied.' 
 
 ' What a nice story, cousin Frank, and 
 how well you remember it !' said Alice. 
 
 ' What a capital Cadi !' cried Helen. 
 
ally's birth-day 
 
 37 
 
 How glad Hassan must have been that he 
 went to him. There was nobody else that 
 could find it out.' 
 
 ' J)o show how the Cadi looked at the 
 carpet-mender again, cousin Frank/ said 
 Bertie. 
 
 Cousin Frank, delighted at being asked 
 to repeat it, went through the performance 
 twice over, and each time it was received 
 with a fresh burst of applause. 
 
 ^ I know what it's like/ said Helen. 
 ' Like you looked when you were dressed 
 up, and made Charlie cr}^ so.' 
 
 'Oh yes, the night that IsTelly and I 
 were two fairies,' remarked Alice/ and one 
 of my wings broke in the middle of the 
 poetry I was saying.' 
 
 ^ I wish' — but what Alice wished remains 
 a mystery, for at that m.oment the dinner- 
 bell rang, and startled her so, that she en- 
 tirely forgot what she was going to say. 
 
 ^ Why, I thought 't wasn't twelve o'clock 
 yet,' exclaimed one. 
 
 ^ We don't seem to have been here half- 
 an-hour, do we, cousin Frank V said another. 
 
 ' Here's mama coming to fetch us, cried 
 Alice, who ran to meet her. And she has 
 got a letter : I wonder who it's for V 
 
 ' For cousin Frank I guess,' said Helen. 
 ' Yes, — so it is.' 
 
 The children kept near Mrs. Taylor 
 while their cousin was reading the letter, 
 and did not look at him until they were 
 neany at the house. Alice was the first 
 
38 
 
 ally's birtii-day. 
 
 to do so, and she thought he looked very 
 different from what he did in the garden. 
 ' What's the matter, ,ousin Frank V 
 ^ I must go away to-morrow morning, 
 that's what's the matter, Al. But don't 
 tell the rest till after dinner.' 
 
 It had to be told then — there was no 
 help for it — and a terrible outcry the chil- 
 dren made. But Frank was obliged to 
 start the next morning ; so, having made 
 him promise to come again next year, and 
 to stay a great deal longer, they took an 
 affectionate leave of their cousin, who 
 treated them to the Cadi's face just as 
 they got to the door, and sent them to 
 bed laughing heartily. 
 
 ' AYhat a stupid book this is ! I can't 
 make out a word of it,' said Alice to Nelly, 
 as they sat preparing their lessons on tlie 
 following morning. 
 
 ^0, Al, hush ! there, youS put the figure 
 
ally's birth-day. 
 
 39 
 
 I was carrying out of my head, and I must 
 begin my sum ali over again replied 
 Helen, rather peevishly. 
 
 ' I beg your pardon, Nelly/ said Alice, 
 in a sorrowful voice. ^ I didn't know you 
 ^vere thinking. Oh I wish 1 could under- 
 stand this ! ' 
 
 ^ Understand what, my love/ asked her 
 mother, who just then opened the door — 
 your little history book that you used to 
 \iQ so fond of. You don't mean that you 
 can't understand that?' 
 
 ' Mama, this is a hard chapter : — harder 
 than any I've ever read before.' And Alice 
 let her arms fall on her lap in a most hope- 
 less manner. 
 
 ' Let's see whether some fairy has changed 
 the book, or whetlier it's the same that it 
 used to be. Now, Alice, begin and read 
 this chapter to me.' 
 
 Alice did so ; and as she went on, her 
 voice by degrees became more cheerful, 
 and her countenance less wo-begone. 
 
 ' Mama : reading to you is so different 
 —I understand it all now.' 
 
 ' But I haven't told you a word or helped 
 you one bit.' 
 
 ' No, mama, but it's because you're here, 
 and I can attend to it better.' 
 
 * You've found out, then, that the fault 
 wasn't in the book^ — I'm glad of that. But 
 Alice, my love, how was it you were not 
 able to attend till I came.' 
 
 This was a question that Alice could not 
 
40 
 
 ally's birth-day. 
 
 answer to her own satisfaction ; and, like 
 an honest child, she said so directly.^ 
 
 ^ Tell me what you were thinking of when 
 I came in, my love V inquired her mother. 
 
 * Let me see — when you came in — I 
 forget what I was thinking of at that very 
 moment.' 
 
 ' Well, before I came, when you were 
 trying to understand the chapter V 
 
 ' Oh yes, before you came — I was think- 
 ing about the ash-tree then, and thinking 
 how nice it was sitting there yesterday, and 
 thinking whether cousin Frank would 
 know any fresh stories by next time.' 
 
 ' And thinking Avhat a pity it was to be 
 in-doors doing lessons, instead of out-of- 
 doors, listening to stories V 
 
 ' Oh, mama ! how could you find out 
 that ? ' 
 
 ' You shall see yourself how I found it 
 out.' 
 
 ' When you began to read to me did 
 you think of v/hat you were reading, a 
 great deal more than' when you read it to 
 yourself?' 
 
 ' Yes, mama.' 
 
 ^ And did you not begin to understand 
 it the moment you began to think of it V 
 ^ Yes. mama.' 
 
 ' Well, then, the reason you didn't un- 
 derstand it before, was because you didn't 
 think of it, and the reason you didn't 
 think of it, was because you were thinking 
 of something else. And having got so 
 
ally's birth-day. 
 
 41 
 
 far, Alice,' said her mother, smiling, ' one 
 needn't be a magician to find out the rest/ 
 
 < But, mama, it's very hard to forget plea- 
 sure, when one's been so happy, isn't it ]' 
 
 ' To forget it, my love 1 no one wishes 
 you to forget.' 
 
 * I mean, to be able to forget it when you 
 want to — when your're going to do lessons/ 
 
 ' It is difficult,' replied her mother. ' I 
 think it's a plant that requires as much 
 care as any that grows in our garden/ 
 
 ' mama, how odd ! I've hardly thought 
 of my garden — I mean the flowers I was 
 to make grow by next birth-day — you know 
 mama' — here Alice gave a very significant 
 nod, to help out her meaning. — ' I've hardly 
 thought of them since the day cousin Frank 
 came.' 
 
 ^ So I fancied, my love/ 
 
 ^ II ow could you, mama?' 
 
 ^ Because, if you had been thinking o*. 
 that, you would not have felt the change 
 so much. You would not have thought it 
 such a hardship to be learning those things 
 which are to make you useful when you are 
 a woman. You would not have forgotteu 
 that it is by doing these daily duties cheer- 
 fully — small as they seem — that we please 
 God. In short, my darling child, you would 
 not have had such a ^ very hard chapter,' 
 and you would not have been forced to wait 
 for mama.' 
 
 Mama,' said Alice, rising up and speak- 
 ing with her fade close ^ mother's, 
 
ALLY S BIKTII-DAY. 
 
 ' I'm SO glad you put ine in niind of my 
 Dirtli-day ! I won't forget it now ; I'll think 
 of my flowers every day, and water them. 
 Pear mama, you'll see Iiow I shall try.' 
 
 ^ And Nelly — what about her V my young 
 readers are saying. ' It's too bad : you 
 haven't told us whether she heard what 
 Alice and her mama were talking of, or 
 whether she was doing her sum all the time, 
 and didn't listen. Besides, did she get 
 good-tempered again ? — for she was cross, 
 you know, before Mrs. Taylor came— and 
 what did they all do afterwards V 
 
 ' Well, I'll do my best to answer all these 
 inquiries.' 
 
 ' In the first place, Nelly did hear all that 
 was said, and Mrs. Taylor was not sorry for 
 It. She saw by Nelly's face, the moment 
 she came in, that she had just been saying 
 something cross, and understood the reason 
 directly. Both had been a little spoiled by 
 the indulgence of the last fortnight. That 
 is to say, they had been so accustomed to 
 be amused all day long, as to have forgotten 
 that we cannot,* and ought not to be al- 
 ways at play ; but must sometimes work, 
 even when we don't like it, because the 
 same good Being who sends our Pleasures, 
 has also given us all our Duties. 
 
 Helen, then, had gone on making her 
 own remarks to herself all the time her 
 aunt was talking to Alice. 
 
ally's birth-day. 
 
 43 
 
 * If Alice was lazy/ she thought, ^ I was 
 cross, and we were both naughty. What a 
 good thing that aunt came in ; perhaps, if she 
 hadn't, we should have quarrelled, as we 
 did that morning such a wliile ago !' 
 
 The thought of having just escaped the 
 danger of quarrelling with Alice, her dear 
 kind Alice, went to Nelly's heart more than 
 anything. 
 
 All tlie time her cousin was making 
 her resolution aloud, she w\as saying the 
 same things over to herself ; and when she 
 went up afterwards and kissed her aunt, 
 and clung to Alice's neck, they both under- 
 stood what she meant as well as if she had 
 told them. 
 
 ^ It isn't raining Al, it's quite fine,' said 
 Helen, drawing aside the window curtain, 
 and rubbing her sleepy eyes, one summer 
 morning. 
 
 ' I'm so glad ! then the black cloud rolled 
 away after all. Papa said he thought it 
 would.' 
 
 This anxiety of the cousins about tliew^ea- 
 ther arose from the fact of its being the morn- 
 ing of Alice's birth-day — for, our readers 
 must imagine that a whole year had passed 
 away since we left them making their good 
 resolutions. But did they keep them ? — 
 that's the question — for we all know that it 
 is one thing to wish and intend to do what 
 is difficult, and another to go on doing it 
 
44 
 
 ally's birth-day. 
 
 steadily day after day. In the present case, 
 I rejoice in being able to say, the resolu- 
 tions were not only made, but kept :— kept, 
 of course with occasional short-comings ; 
 but still very well kept upon the whole. 
 
 * Well, come along, Al,' it's time you were 
 out of bed,' cried the bustling Helen, ' you 
 forget what lots of things we've got to do. 
 To feed the chickens, and get the milk- 
 thistles for the bunnies, besides packing 
 up the frock ready for after breakfast/ 
 
 Alice jumped out of bed before she had 
 done speaking, and they were soon dressed 
 and down stairs. At breakfast, as soon as 
 what Is elly called the ' happy returns' were 
 over, xVlice lost no time in proceeding to 
 business. 
 
 ' Mama, are you going to be busy this 
 morning V 
 
 ^ No, my love : why V 
 
 ' Because, mama, if you are not, don't 
 you remember what we said we'd do last 
 
 birth-day ? 
 
 ' Oh ! you mean the ash-tree. Yes, I 
 Bnall be ready to go there by the time you 
 come back from the village.' 
 
 How happy Alice was this morning, pack- 
 ing up a little frock she had just finished 
 making for Susan Grant. You see she has 
 made a great step since last year— it was 
 only a pinafore then : now, it is a frock. 
 
 It is true that her mamma had placed it, 
 and done the gathering, but Alice had 
 managed all the rest by herself ; and, as 
 
ally's birth-day. 
 
 45 
 
 you may suppose, she was not a little proud 
 of her performance. The best part of it 
 was that it had been done from beginning 
 to end without any telling or reminding. 
 Every day she had taken it up regularly 
 and done a little, in that steady way which 
 ensures things being done, and well done. 
 
 Susan Grant's delight at the present was 
 great — greater even than Alice had ex- 
 pected : which is saying a good deal, as we 
 all know young benefactors are apt to en- 
 tertain expectations which even the most 
 grateful sometimes fail to satisfy. 
 
 The moment they came back from the 
 village, the cousins hastened to the orchard, 
 where they found Mrs. Taylor, with George 
 and Bertie, walking up and down until 
 they came. 
 
 ' Oh, thank you, mama, for not sitting 
 down without us. Kow we'll be cozy — 
 mama, this is your place.' 
 
4G ALLY'S BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Mrs. Taylor seated herself, according to 
 Alice's wish, on the self-same root of the 
 ash-tree that she sat upon last year ; and 
 the children, taking care to keep their own 
 places, very soon grouped themselves about 
 her. 
 
 *Mama,' Alice began, ^ you recollect that 
 morning after cousin Frank went away 
 when you came in and explained my 
 history V 
 
 ' Yes, my love/ 
 
 ^ Don't you think it was a good thing I 
 was naughty that morning, mama ? I mean 
 that I hadn't been attending till you came.' 
 
 ' A good thing that you were naughty, 
 Al,' cried Bertie, to whom this was a new 
 way of looking at such matters,—' a good 
 thing that you were naughty— whatever 
 do you mean V 
 
 ' You know what I mean, mama,— don't 
 
 you V 
 
 ' I suppose it is that what I said then 
 made you think of to-day: and, as I 
 should not have spoken of it unless you had 
 been inattentive, you think it a good thing 
 that you were so V 
 
 ' Yes, mama, that's it exactly. 
 
 ' But Al,' interposed Nelly, ' if you had 
 been good before,aunt wouldn't have wanted 
 
 to teil you, and so 'twould have been just 
 the same.' 
 
 Alice, however, did not think so. She 
 was sure the thought of the birth-day had 
 caused more goodness than could ever have 
 
ally's birth-day. 47 
 
 come without it : and her mama agreed 
 with her that, as this was the case, everj 
 thing had happened for the best. After 
 this there was a pause in the conversation 
 — Nelly, as usual, was the first to speak. 
 
 ^Aunt,' she inquired, ^do you think weVe 
 all done what we said we would, and made 
 our flowers grow ? — I know Alice has. And 
 George is a great deal kinder : he let us 
 have hide and seek the other day, when he 
 ivished for blindman's-buiF. And Bertie — 
 nurse says he's been very good : he hasn't 
 stamped once for a whole month.' 
 
 * And I'm sure you havn'tbeen cross for 
 IjAjMj^nany months, Nelly,' cried George. 
 ^^^^^BB||d|g^claimed Alice, ^ it's so 
 ^^^i^^l^^^H^pim ember the last time.' 
 
 ' ^^y^^^BiPren,' said Mrs. Taylor, 
 looki^ig fon dly round her, ' to hear you all 
 jHHHjMjjl^ne another in this way is 
 Wf^Wi^^HBjftbing I can say. Still, I 
 n ust tell yoWhat T agree with you all ; 
 aid that your reniarks on one another are 
 a;? true as they are kind. I don't mean 
 tliat now and then I have not seen you all 
 giving way to naughty feelings; but much 
 oftener you have tried to conquer them, 
 and succeeded. 
 
 There is one thino^ more that has made 
 me very happy ; and that is, you have not 
 only taken care of your own flowers, but 
 have also learned the way to help one 
 another. Now, let us all try again thii 
 year how much wc can do. Try how many 
 
48 
 
 ally's BIRTn-BAT 
 
 kind woras we can say to one another, — 
 how many right but difficult things Ave 
 can do cheerfully and gladly, so that tliey 
 may be pleasing to oar Father in heaven, 
 who helps by his Spirit those who ask Him. 
 And then, my darling children, when the 
 time comes for our earthly gardens to be 
 left empty, that Father who is so full of 
 love, will send his angel to fetch us home 
 to Ilini ; and we shall live with Ilim in 
 those better gardens which are too beau- 
 tiful to be described, but where we know 
 that all the sweet flowers that have ever 
 grown in this world are brought togethe 
 and continue in blossom for everua a new 
 
 '.ers,— ^ a goo 
 
 Dear Little 
 
 Perhaps you know that it is ot^en the custom ? 
 vp books, for the person who writP'^ ^■ 
 fts it were, at the end wich thi -in 
 Bce why we shouldn't do the sai say U lew 
 
 words one to another. 
 
 Mt/ say is soon said ; far it is simply this : 1 hope 
 you will have as much pleasure in reading about A lice 
 and Nelly, and the rest of the Ashfield people, as It 
 have had in writing about them. There were many 
 things besides that I wanted to tell you ; but I couldn't 
 find time or room for any more now. Terhaps, if you 
 look into some future number of these ' Stories for 
 Summer Days and Winter Nights,' you will find more 
 about Ashfield, and I shall then have the plea^surc of 
 shaking hands with you again. 
 
 Meantime, I bid you all very kindly 
 
 Good-bye ! 
 
 Geoombridge Brotrers, Printer??, Kxeter-stre.'t, .Strand^