W$t Htbrarp of tfjr ©uibersttp of 3&ortf) Carolina tBbte boofe toa£ presented TV\e PaHerson ^am'Av UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA !■,„ ■ School o f L ibrary 5c i i'rtc * {/ ~ L WC/--A Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill http://archive.org/details/whenarewehappiesOOtuth u el lillllil WHEN ARE WE HAPPIEST? OR THE LITTLE CAMERONS. THE AUTHOR OF "THE BOY OF SPIRIT," "THE BELLE, THE BLUE, AND THE BIGOT," ETC. SIXTEENTH EDITION. BOSTON: CROSBY, NICHOLS, AKD COMPANY 117 "Washington Street. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1850, by Wm. Crosby and H. P. Nichols, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District c Massachusetts. JO THE MOTHERLESS CHILDREN, AT WHOSE REQUEST AND FOR WHOSE INSTRUCTION THIS LITTLE WORK WAS WRITTEN, IT IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED: THAT IT MAY LEAD THEM ONWARD IN THE PATH OF TRUE HAPPINESS IS THE EARNEST WISH OF THEIR DEVOTED FRIEND, CORNELIA. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Introduction to the Camerons II. The Little Text-books III. A Sunday at Walnut Hill IV. The New School V. Lizzie's Journey . VI. Lizzie's Letter from New York VII. Ghost Stories .... VIII Older Sisters .... IX. Poor little Eliza Carter X. Lizzie's return Home . XI. When are we happiest ? PAGE 1 10 22 37 52 64 78 93 108 118 135 WHEN ARE WE HAPPIEST? CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION TO THE CAMERONS. Little boys and girls, do you wish to make some new acquaintances ? I dare say that you have a great many friends now, that you think are very near perfection ; but I hope that there is still room in your hearts for some dear little Southern children. Now, try and see if you can't like them, when I tell you who they are, and how they look, and where they live. You will not mind if they are not handsome, when you find what warm hearts they have ; and per- haps, before you get through reading this book, you will be tempted to write me a letter, and ask where such nice little playmates are to be found. 1 2 INTRODUCTION TO THE CAMERONS. If you have never been at the South, you cannot imagine how different it is from New England. At first, you would not know what the tall plant was, with large leaves, and little tufts of flowers at the top, with which so many fields are covered ; and when told that it was tobacco, you would wonder how it ever changed to the dry brown or yellow stuff which is sold at the North as cigars, snuff, and tobacco. By and by you would see tall log-houses, with no windows, and some one would tell you that the tobacco was hung all around the inside of these houses, and then a fire was kept in the middle, until it was thoroughly smoked and dried. You would almost rub your eyes to see if a cloud had not come over them which made every body look dark, for there would be black faces at work in the fields, and black men driv- ing all the carts and carriages you would meet, and funny little black babies looking out of the cabin-like houses scattered here and there along the road. Have you a dislike to negroes ? Ah, well ! you will get over it before you have been long at the South, and it may be that you will begin to call some of those very black people " aunt " INTRODUCTION TO THE CAMERONS. 3 and " uncle " ! You laugh at the very idea, but I can assure } r ou that the little people to whom you are about to be introduced always call the old servants by these titles, and to them it does not seem at all strange. "Are you talking about slaves?" my little readers ask, in a tone of surprise. To be sure, but we will not enter into any discussion about the evils of slavery. When you have grown up, you can form your own opinion upon this subject, and I have mine ; but for the present we will forget that it is a disputed point. The servants whom you will become acquainted with here are so kindly treated and so happy, that you will soon forget that they are not perfectly free. But if we stop so long on the road, we shall never get to Walnut Hill. Ah, there it is, rising above the woods with w T hich it is sur- rounded. Is that a village in the distance, among the trees ? there is no spire rising from it. Yes ; it is a village, notwithstanding, for the people are all Methodists, and those square brick buildings, of which you can just see the tops, are the New Side and the Old Side churches. 4 INTRODUCTION TO THE CAMERONS. O, only see that little girl on horseback! Are you not afraid that she will fall off? Yet she does not seem to have any such fears, for she gives the horse a stroke with the whip, and calling to the black boy who is riding behind her, "Come on, Jack," she dashes forward like a real horsewoman. That is Mary Cam- eron, and the group of little girls who are standing at the gate through which she has just passed are her sisters. You cannot see their faces, because they are almost hidden by their deep sun-bonnets, but you will notice their ani- mated gestures, and hear their laughing voices. What merry children they must be ! Now, there is some one at the door of the pleasant-looking house, who is calling to the girls to come in. Is it their mother ? O, no. These poor children have no mother, and a few weeks since the lady who had, in some measure, supplied her place, left them, and now there is no one but the housekeeper to take care of the little orphans ; I mean that there is no lady to fill a parent's place, for their father is very kind in providing for all their wants, but he cannot of course supply a moth- er's loss as fully as he would wish to do. INTRODUCTION TO THE CAMERONS. 5 It is Lizzie, the eldest sister, who is standing in the door, and though she looks so tall, she is only just fourteen. The dear girl has a great deal of care now, and does all she can for the younger ones, but still she often feels sadly discouraged. But she looks very happy now, and the reason is that she has just received a letter from their teacher, Miss Fenwick, and she wishes to read it to her sisters. As soon as they understand what she wants, they run eagerly to the house, and cluster around her on the porch. Now you can catch a peep at their faces, as they toss back their sun-bonnets that they may hear the much-wished-for letter more plainly. Let us listen to what Miss Fenwick says. " I know that my dear children are impatient to hear from me, but they cannot be more so than I am to write to them. Almost every hour I think of you all, and try and picture to myself how you are employed. " Lizzie, I conjecture, is trying her skill in dress-making, and perhaps complaining now and then that Margaret and Jennie are such little 1 * INTRODUCTION TO THE CAMERONS. rail-figures that there is no making any thing set to them, while Alice endeavours to obey my parting instructions, and finish those poor aprons which have hung upon her hands so long. " As for Mary, in spite of her double advan- tage in being able to sew with both hands, I do not think she has yet completed her tasks, for in all probability those little rag dolls have made great demands upon her attention, and there is no doubt that Meggy and Jennie have devoted themselves to the crack-brained and one-armed ladies who were so miserably in want of clothes when I last saw them. " These bright spring days have not been all spent in the house, I know, but you have explored the woods for early flowers and pretty moss, and Lizzie has bent many an hour over her daily rose-bushes, and the pet jessamine, which by this time must reach above the parlour- window. u But though I can fancy how pleasantly you are passing your time, my dear children, there is one hour when I am sure that you miss your absent friend. Do you not think of me at the time which we used to devote to our morning Bible lesson ? INTRODUCTION TO THE CAMERONS. 7 ■ c You may remember that you all begged me to write to you about those subjects on which we have so often conversed with so much. pleasure, and to give you such advice as you were accustomed to receive during our favorite lesson. I promised to do so, but 'it is impossible to give you in writing .the counsel that you all daily need. I pray that some one may be sent to instruct you, more capable of benefiting you than I could ever be ; but for the present you must learn to depend upon the infallible guide which I left in your hands. cc The more you search the Scriptures, the more fully will you be convinced that they contain all that .is necessary for your instruc- tion. cc Alice sometimes used to say, that, when she did any thing wrong, she seemed always to find some text which condemned her the very next time that she opened her Bible, and I am sure you must all have had the same expe- rience. " Now, what I want you all to do is, to read daily those plainer and more practical portions of Scripture which I pointed out to you, and to select the lessons which they contain before 8 INTRODUCTION TO THE CAMERONS. closing the book, endeavouring to commit as many as you can to memory. When you find any passage which forbids a fault to which you are inclined, the older ones must set down the place where the text is found, if they have not tune to copy the text itself, in little blank books, which they must keep for this purpose. " Do you understand what I mean ? I will try and explain it to you. Some of you are very quick-tempered, and need every aid in restraining your angry passions. At the head of one page of their blank books, Lizzie, and Alice, and Mary can write u Anger," and W T hen they find any text condemning a hasty spirit, they can put it down under this head. Those who are accustomed to give too free reins to their tongues may have the next head in iheir books c Rules for Conversation,' and place under it all the maxims which they can find for prudence, kindness, and consideration in their discourse. You will find in Proverbs a great deal upon this subject, besides a w r hole chapter in one of the Epistles, which I leave you to discover. " I know you all have sufficient quicknes3 of mind to follow out this plan, so I will only INTRODUCTION TO THE CAMERONS. 9 mention a few more heads under which it would be well to collect passages of warning and ad- vice. These are, ' Respect to Superiors,' 'Politeness,' l Treatment of Servants,' ' Kind- ness to one another,' ' Sin of Selfishness,' 'Right Use of Time,' 'Encouragement to Prayer,' and ' Parental Care of God.' " I shall be delighted to learn that you have added many more to this list, and have not only set them down in your books, but implanted them in your hearts. But you will never be successful, my dear children, in self-govern- ment, unless you have the aid of our Heavenly Father, which you must always implore fer- vently before reading the Sacred Word. I, too, shall never cease to ask that He may guide you into all truth. " Give my best respects to your kind father, and write to me very soon. Tell me all that you are doing with the same freedom as if I were still with you, and ever believe me " Your devoted friend, "Amelia Fenwick." CHAPTER II. THE LITTLE TEXT-BOOKS. When Lizzie Cameron awoke, the next morning after the receipt of Miss Fenwick's letter, the first thing of which she thought was the plan of putting down texts in a little book, and thus making out a set of regulations for her own conduct. Now Lizzie, to own the truth, was not as fond of the Bible as her younger sisters, but she liked any thing new ; and as the nurse shrewdly observed, "it would have been well if her zeal lasted to the end of her undertak- ings." But for a short time there was no checking the industry of the impetuous girl, and on this morning there was but one idea at work in her busy brain. So fully occupied was she with this, that she forgot all Miss Fen- THE LITTLE TEXT-BOOKS. II wick's lessons upon the necessity of doing every thing " decently and in order," and put on one of her stockings wrong side outward, and only half finished her hair. As she was hurrying down stairs, her dress caught upon a nail and tore out the gathering. " Confound the old dress !" she exclaimed, half in a passion at her own carelessness, " it is always catching at something "; and she tried to pin up the rent so that it might not be observed. u Are you not ashamed, Lizzie ?" said Mary, in a very grave tone, for she was rather given to preaching. " You know Miss Fenwick said that we must not say 'confound,' or any such word, lest we fall into condemnation." u Silence in the court-room, Mit is going to preach. You think yourself so smart, Miss," retorted Lizzie, in a vexed tone, as she opened the dining-room door, and seated herself at the head of the table. Major Cameron was very easy to please about most things, but he was extremely par- ticular with regard to his coffee, and a teaspoon ful too much of cream or sugar ruined it. Lizzie generally managed to suit him very well 3 but now her mind was occupied, and she mixed 12 THE LITTLE TEXT-BOOKS. an uninviting cup half full of cream, which her father had no sooner tasted than he pushed it away with evident disgust. " Hand another cup to Miss Lizzie," he said, in a somewhat stern tone, to little black Jim, who was at his elbow, " and let her see if she cannot give me some coffee more fit to drink." Lizzie's tears unfortunately lay quite too near her eyes, and now two large ones rolled out down her cheeks and fell upon the tray before her. " Father does not wish salt water in his cof- fee," whispered Alice, playfully. " Do n't make a baby of yourself, Lizzie," exclaimed her father, for he had a horror of tears, " only try and be more attentive. An absent-minded woman will never have good manners, and you must endeavour to have your thoughts about you." Luckily, the tears which come so readily are easily dried ; and when Major Cameron left the table, his children were full of good-nature and animation. " Did you ask father about our books ?" in- quired Alice, eagerly. THE LITTLE TEXT-BOOKS. 13 ou will find the means of doing so. There are many temptations, it is true, in a city, especially to a stranger ; but remember, that, though only here for a visit, you will have to give an account for every day. Many persons seem to think, that, when they go away from home, they have got beyond the sphere »f God's government, and may sin with impunity. Instead of neglecting reading and prayer, my dear child, you should rise earlier every day, that you may be more upon your guard against the temptations that beset you.' " It seemed so like old times, to hear Miss Fenwick talking to me thus, that I could not help crying, and exclaimed in my hasty way, — ' I wish I could go home now, and take you with me, and then I am sure I should be better than I have ever been.' " l Ah, Lizzie !' she replied, shaking her head, ' I shall have no hope of you, till you resolve to do right in your present place and condition, without any 7/5 about it.' " We were so engaged in talking, that it did not seem an hour when Mrs. Fenwick sent for us to come down to tea. Her children, though dressed very prettily and extremely 7 74 lizzie's letter FROM NEW YORK. polished in their manners, were perfectly sim- ple and unaffected. I began to perceive that living in New York did not necessarily make people worldly, or think of nothing but dress. The tea had been ordered early, that all the family might go to a children's missionary meeting, as the oldest of the little girls be- longed to the society. She is about Alice's age, and looks something like her. Although so much younger than I am, I could not help being pleased at her efforts to entertain me, and was really interested in some anecdotes which she told me, of the good which had been effected by the Juvenile Missionary Society. " I did not, at first, wish to go to the meet- ing, and told Miss Fenwick that I never liked to hear about the heathen, or poor people, for it always made me feel badly, because I had nothing of my own to give away. She an- swered, that the prayers of the young were al- ways acceptable, and if their interest was early excited in benevolent objects, they were likely to use more profitably the means which should afterwards be placed at their disposal. " The sermon was upon the same subject, and I was almost persuaded to lay up all my spending-money, while I remain in New York, to give to the mission school in China. How Alice and Mary would have liked to have been there ! I did not once think of my new dresses or my shabby bonnet, and Miss Fen- wick did not seem to see but that I w T as per- fectly well dressed. She had on herself the same lawn dress which she used to wear so often last summer to the village church. " But here I am, almost at the end of my let- ter, and have only told you about the first day that I spent in the city, and here it is Tues- day, just a week since I left home. I shall have to write soon again,' for I was so inter- ested in telling about Miss Fenwick, — and I knew the children would be so anxious to hear just what she said, — that I forgot how much more there was to be told. Uncle James con- tinues exceedingly kind, and so are all my relations. Aunt Mary says that she cannot spare me for these two months, and Mr. Lud- low assures me, in his quiet way, that he con- siders me quite as his own niece. If he would only take off those si ell-rimmed spectacles, which make him look so sharp, and smile a little, he would be very pleasant after all. 76 lizzie's letter from new FORK. ce Jane is waiting for me to go to the mu- seum, and then to have my pink dress tried on. By the way, the mantua-maker wanted two more yards of it, but by good luck I matched it, or she would not have touched the dress. u Alice must write me a long letter, and tell me all about father, for I know how he hates letter-writing himself. I miss Susan constant- ly, and find that I am quite helpless compared with Jane, from having had so many always to wait upon me ; still, she knows nothing about sewing, and prides herself upon her ignorance. I think she would be happier, if she was more fond of her needle ; for now she spends a great deal of time in looking out of the window, till she gets listless and tired of all the world. " Remember me to everybody, by no means forgetting the black people. I dare say I shall long very often to be at home, for it seems as if you w T ere all so good and quiet there. I laughed out loud, the other night, after I was in bed, thinking what Jane would have said to have seen me with dear little Jennie's blue beads round my neck. I think the very sight of them would have killed her. " Alice must try and make father comfort- LIZZIE'S LETTER FROM NEW YORK. 77 able ; and see if those preserves that I made have enough sugar in them to keep them. I could write for ever, but here I am at the end of my paper, though I have crossed it so that it is scarcely legible. Miss Fenwick is going to write to the children herself, but sent her love, as do all Aunt Mary's family; while I remain, dear father and sisters, though absent, " Your ever affectionate 64 Lizzie. u P. S. I forgot that you would be anxious to know about my health. I am apparently well, and cough but little. I am only troubled with my feet, which are blistered from walking about the city in tight shoes. A little rest will soon cure them, but I don't know how to stop." 7* CHAPTER VII GHOST STORIES. While Lizzie was at home, Margaret and Jennie had always slept in her room ; but after she was gone, they removed to a chamber in the attic, next to that occupied by Susan, the nurse. Major Cameron had a little bed-rqom upon the lower floor, that he might protect the house more effectually ; so Alice and Mary were left quite alone in the second story. They did not mind this, however, for their mother had early taken care to free them from all silly fears, and would never allow them to be frightened by the ridiculous stories which the ignorant black children were so fond of telling them. But though not afraid of any harm, Alice often felt lonely when she aw T oke in the night and thought that Lizzie was far away. GHOST STORIES. 79 One night, in particular, our little friend was vrry restless, and could scarcely banish the mournful reflections that forced themselves up- on her mind ; and the wind, which whistled around the house very loudly on account of its elevated situation, filled her with sadness. She whispered to Mary softly, to see if she was awake ; but finding that she slept soundly, resolved not to be so selfish as to disturb her. " I will repeat some hymns," she said to her- self, and commenced her favorite : — " Thou, to whose all-searching sight The darkness shineth as the light, Search, prove my heart, it looks to thee ! O, burst its bonds and set it free ! " Jt is singular how easily, in the silence of the night, we can remember words which we were scarcely conscious before that we knew. Alice found that she could repeat a great many more hymns than she supposed when she be- gan, and then she tried to remember the ninety- first Psalm. It is a very sweet one, and she commenced feeling a delightful sense of God's protecting presence, as she said to herself, — "He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust. 80 GHOST STORIES. " Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night, nor for the arrow thit flieth by day; " Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor for the destruction that vvasteth at noonday." No children can repeat this sweet Psalm and understand it, without feeling sure, that, if they love God, he will keep them from all harm, and that they have nothing else to dread in this world, but the sins which offend their Almighty Creator. Alice loved to think of the goodness of God, and exclaimed now, — " If thou art my shield and my sun, The nig-ht is no darkness to me, And fast as my moments roll on, They but bring- me the nearer to thee." There are some persons who do not con- sider the thought contained in the last line of this pretty verse a pleasant one, for they do not wish to be reminded that every moment of time brings them closer to another world and to their Heavenly Father. But Alice hoped that this great Being was her friend and had forgiven all her sins for Christ's sake, so she longed for the time to come when she could see him face to face. Often, in praying to him, and thinking of the joy which he was GHOST STORIES 81 preparing for his children when thpy should be with him and free from sin and temptation, she forgot all about this world and seemed to catch a glimpse of heaven. She could say the last chapters of Revelation by heart, and she was very fond of them, because they gave her a description of the place in which she hoped that her departed mother now was, and where she expected one day'to meet her again. If troubled, she was soothed by the thought that " there shall be no more sorrow or pain"; if she wept, she remembered that God would " there wipe away all tears"; and when the night filled her heart with solemnity, she re- called the promise that " there should be no night there, and they need no candle, neither the light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them light." If Alice could always have kept in her mind these blessed promises and refrained from sin, she would have found a heaven upon earth ; but, alas * such seasons of peace were only given her to cheer her on in the warfare with her own evil heart. While indulging in these sweet thoughts, Alice was startled by a scream which seemed 82 GHOST STORIES. to proceed from the apartment occupied by the younger children. Without thinking for a moment whether there could be any danger to herself, she jumped up hastily and felt her way in the dark to the foot of the stairs. The screaming continued constant while she as- cended, until she stepped upon a spool of cot- ton, which rolled under her foot and came near throwing her down the whole flight of stairs. By catching hold of the railing she saved herself, but in doing so came down up- on her foot in so awkward a position, that her ancle was turned, and she found it almost im- possible to rise. But she thought only of her sisters, and, without calling for assistance, man- aged with extreme difficulty to stand, and hop- ping upon one foot reached the children's room. " Who is it ? who is it ? " shrieked Jennie, in a wild manner, as she heard her sister's irregular step. "No one but me, your sister Alice," she replied. " Has anything hurt you, darling ? are you sick ? what makes you scream so ?" " Oj I am so frightened ! " whispered Jen- nie, between her sobs, as Alice sat down upon GHOST STORIES. 83 the bed beside her ; " there has been a ghost in the room ; there ! there ! I see it now ! " and again she hid her face under the bed-quilt, uttering terrible shrieks. u Tell me where it is, and let me see what has alarmed you," said Alice, calmly. " There ! there ! in the corner by the clos- et," she answered, without uncovering her head. Although Alice could not move without great pain, she hobbled across the room to the spot pointed out, and discovered a white dress hanging against the wall, which the moonlight had made visible. " Why, Jennie ! are you so afraid of Liz- zie's old dress ? " she asked, laughing in spite of the agony which she was suffering. " There are no such things as ghosts ; and if there were, why should you be afraid of them ? Nothing can hurt you without God's permission ; and if you pray to him, he will always take care of you." " Yes, there are ghosts," said Jennie, some- what encouraged by this discovery, so that she dared to peep from under the bed-quilt ; " James saw one all in white, with eyes like 84 GHOLT STORIES. fire, and Dick saw one just before he died. Nobody lives long after they have seen a ghost. " " What foolish ideas ! But if that were the truth, Jennie, what reason is there for be- ing so frightened ? We must all die, some time or other ; and if God chooses to call us away when we are young, it may be because he sees that we should become bad, if he were to leave us to grow up. To die is only to go where we can see Christ, and be always happy and holy. Ask him now to quiet your mind, and then go to sleep, and his angels will be around you till morning." " But you must stay with me, — don't go," — exclaimed Jennie, catching hold of her sister, and beginning to scream again. Margaret, who had slept very soundly, from some paregoric which she had taken to quiet a violent tooth- ache, now awoke and asked what was the mat- ter. Alice told her quietly that Jennie had got a little frightened, and she soon fell fast asleep again. " Now I must go down, Jennie, for my foot pains me so badly that I can scarcely move. I am no protection to you, because anything GHOST STORIES. 85 that would hurt you could injure me quite as easily. " As Alice said this she tried to rise, but found it impossible. " Jennie, you must go and call Susan to cany me down," she said, quite faint from the effort that she had made to stand. " Susan is away, Alice, and that is the rea- son why I was so frightened. Perhaps it w T ont hurt you so much, if you sit still a little longer," replied Jennie. " Then I fear you will have to go and call father up," said Alice ; " take fast hold of the baluster, and then you will not fall." u O, I dare not ! I could not to save my life, Alice, stir a step in the dark " ; and Jen- nie began to cry at the thought. Alice was just going to wake Margaret, when she saw that her little flushed cheek was badly swollen with the toothache, from which she had been suffering, and which would prob- ably come on again, if she should get up and go down stairs. The generous sister thought that it would be better for her to bear pain herself, than to run the chance of giving it to another ; so she gave up all idea of disturbing . 8 86 GHOST STORIES. Margaret, and resolved to make one more ef fort to move Jennie. " Now, my child, listen to me," she said , " there is no possibility of there being any one in the house, as the dog is at the door, and they must pass by father to come to us. If jrou go down and call him, something may be done for me to-night, so that I may soon use my foot again ; but if it is left till to-morrow, it will probably be so swelled, that I shall not be able to step upon it for weeks. It was in coming to your assistance that it was sprained, and you will feel very sorry if it is worse, be- cause you did not try and conquer your fears. I shall hear you, if you make the slightest noise, and it will only be half a minute before you are in father's room." No persuasions, however, could induce Jen- nie to go, though she was very sorry for her sister, but she kept repeating, — u I am so frightened, that I could not "f I was to die for it." Poor Alice gave up the attempt in despair, and lay down beside Jennie, where she re- mained till morning, trying not to groan, but she was in such distress that it was almost im- GHOST STORIES. 87 possible to help it. She had not closed her eyes since the accident happened, when Susan came into the room in the morning and was much surprised at finding her there. The faithful nurse was distressed at her sad con- dition, and taking her up in her arms carried her dowm to her own bed, and called Major Cameron to see her swollen ankle. He sent immediately for the doctor, and blamed Jennie very severely for not having called him in the night. Alice interceded in her behalf, and ")ld him that it was not so much her fault as iiat of the servants, who had filled her mind with the silly superstitions, which, if her mother had been living, she would never have heard. Margaret, when questioned about the stories which Jennie said that black Jim had told them, gave an account of the manner in which the evening previous had been spent, and Alice no longer wondered that the little timid girl had allowed herself to become so frightened while lying awake alone in the night, when she remembered her own gloomy feelings, at first, in listening to the sighing of the wind. Major Cameron, the night before, had brought home an amusing story, which he 88 GHOST STORIES. wished Alice and Mary by turns to read aloud to him, as much for their own improvement as for his pleasure. While they were thus em- ployed, Margaret and Jennie had been up stairs, helping Susan to piece her quilt, and telling her all about their school and one of the girls, with whose bad behaviour they were quite disgusted. It w 7 as fortunate that Susan was such a prudent servant, or she might have made a world of mischief, for the children did not always remember, that " he who repeateth a matter separateth very friends " ; and their strong imaginations often made them give such descriptions of things that daily happened, as bordered upon untruth. They did not mean to say anything which was not strictly correct, but they were too apt to give their own ideas as to what they were telling, or about the mo- tives of others, and this is always a bad habit. About eight o'clock, Susan put up her pieces, and told the children that she had her master's permission to go and sit up with Mrs. Franklin's Sally, a black woman'who lived near them and had been very ill. Before leaving them, she gave Margaret some paregoric for her tooth, which had com- GHOST STORIES. 89 menced aching badly, and stopped at the kitch- en to make a mustard plaster to put on her face, which she sent up to her by little black Jim, of whom all the children w T ere very fond. Margaret and Jennie now begged him to stay a little while, for they had been telling each other foolish stories which they had heard at school, until they were almost afraid of the sound of their own voices. Jim, who saw how frightened they were, liked to add to his own consequence by increasing their fears, and re- plied to Jennie's entreaties, — "O, I dares not, Missie. Don't you hear that sound ? " " What, what ? " asked Jennie, drawing nearer to him. " Why, coming down the chimney," he re- plied, shrugging his shoulders and looking to- wards the fireplace with a very timid air. " O, that 's only the wind," answered Mar- garet, in quite a brave tone. " I does not mean that, Miss Meggy. Does you hear that moaning up there, something like old Tray's yell, when he died ? " " O, yes ! it is awful ! " said Jennie and Margaret, in a breath ; " what makes it ? " 8* 90 GHOST STORIES. " I dares n't Tell ; I 's feared you '11 tell Mass Frank on me " " O, no ! we wont," said the little girls, — their eyes wide open with eager expectation. " Then say, ' Indeed and double,' and clench hands." " We must not," replied Margaret ; " for Miss Fenwick told us it would lead to swear- ing, and nobody would believe us with it who would not without it." " Then I can't tell you," said Jim, sullen- ly, pretending that he was going to leave the room. " I '11 say it, Jim, I '11 say it," cried Jen- nie, in great distress. " Well, then, Missy," began Jim, crouch- ing down on the floor in his own peculiar man- ner ; u them bowlings is the cries of folks what have come to their death by violence. They always lives around the places where they was murdered." 11 But surely nobody has been killed here," almost shrieked the children. " I don't know," replied Jim, shaking his head very mysteriously ; " there is a man buried in the field opposite, and there never GHOST STORIES. 91 has no grass grown on his grave ; and that 's the way they says it always does, when a man has been murdered." " O, I shall never dare to look that way again ! " exclaimed Jennie. " Did you ever go that way in the night ? " u Once, and I shall never dare go again," said Jim, showing all his teeth in a ghastly grin. " What did you see ? " asked Jennie, dread- ing yet longing for the answer. " You remember, if you tell after you have clenched hands, the Old One will have you, Missie," said Jim, soberly. " Yes, yes ! " said Jennie, impatiently. "Well, then, I seen a ghost, with eyes of fire, a dancing right on the grave, and it kept a screaming out, c Come and jine me ! come and jine me ! ' and I never have been w T ell since." It is no wonder that Major Cameron was very much displeased, when he heard these ridiculous stories. He was for whipping Jim immediately for telling such falsehoods, till Mary reminded him that the boy perhaps did not know any better himself, and had only been 92 GHOST STORIES. trying to amuse the children in the best way that he knew, by repeating what some of the other servants might have made him believe. The Major then requested Alice not to for- get, in teaching the little black children, to show them the folly and wickedness cf such notions ; and she promised to do all in her power to teach them to fear nothing but the great Creator, and the sins which would offend him. When the physician arrived, he pronounced the sprain a very bad one ; but Alice did not murmur, when he said that it was probable that she would be obliged to give up going to school for several weeks. Her pleasant thoughts during the night had prepared the little sufferer to bear her misfor- tune patiently, and she had already learned to rely upon the promise of her Heavenly Father, that " all -should work together for good to those who love him." CHAPTER VIII OLDER SISTERS. " I shall get all fours to-day, in my be- haviour book," said Mary Cameron, in a very decided tone, as she walked towards school with her sisters on Monday morning. Ah ! Mary has forgotten that " he who thinketh he standeth must take heed lest he fall." u I shall try not to get any threes this week, too," said Margaret, in a more modest tone. cc I don't care how many I get," said Jen- nie, tossing up her bonnet in the air, instead of keeping it upon her head. u If I can only have a nice play-time at noon, I don't mind much what happens in school." Mary seemed, for the first two hours after school commenced, in a fair way to have noth- 94 OLDER SISTERS. ing but the highest number upon her book ; for she recited her geography lesson perfectly, and did not miss one word in her spelling. Her writing, too, looked uncommonly well, and she was just finishing the last line, when Sarah Carter asked Mr. Johnson if she might go out in the porch to wash her slate, and, as she did so, beckoned to Mary to make some excuse to follow her. In her hurry to get through her writing, Mary filled her pen too full of ink', and a great blot was the consequence. She tried in vain to rub it out, for she was too impatient to get a penknife, and the little wet paper with which she tried to remove it only made a larger spot around the first. She was in de- spair, but happening to remember how she had seen some of the girls manage to hide blots when they handed their books to the teacher, and as this one was on the corner of the page, she tried their plan of holding it up to Mr. Johnson with her thumb over the unfor- tunate place. He was quite busy in correcting a composition, and, looking at it only a mo- ment, said, " O, very neat ! That page cer- tainly deserves four." Mary returned to her desk, delighted with OLDER SISTERS. 95 the success of her plan, for she did not think that the deception which she had just practised had been written down above, and would one day be brought out against her by Him in whose pure sight an acted untruth is as sinful as if it were spoken out in the plainest words. If she had remembered that his all-seeing eye was upon her, she would not have asked, as she did a moment afterwards, to be allowed to go and get a block to put under her desk to prevent it from moving ; for, although it was unsteady, this was only an excuse to join her companion in the porch. As soon as Mary appeared, Sarah, who had been impatiently waiting for her with her hands filled with toys, which she exhibited with great glee, said, — "I have brought all my doll things in my dinner-basket, besides these which I kept in my pocket." " So have I," said Mary ; " and we can have a nice baby-house together, can't we ? " " Yes ! " answered Sarah ; " and all the rest of the girls have their playthings too, and we are going to fix the school-room this noon like a village, with the desks in two rows through it, for a street, and each one of them is 96 OLDER SISTERS. to be a house ; and you and I will keep ours together." " How delightful ! " exclaimed Mary ; " but then Jennie and Margaret will be coming to it, and they always put every thing out of order." " No, indeed ! they must not," replied Sa- rah, in a very dictatorial tone ; u the little girls always play in the yard at noon, and we are going to keep them all out there to-day. Hark ! I hear Mr. Johnson coming ! At the approach of her teacher, Sarah thrust all her playthings into her pocket, and com- menced washing her slate ; while Mary search- ed for a block, which she soon found, and car- rying it into the school, she seemed very much in earnest in making her desk stand even. She was, however, so much occupied in thinking of the play-spell at noon, that, when she sat down to write her composition, she hurried over it, without thinking whether the words were spelt correctly, and was very impatient to have it looked over. " Mary Cameron," said Mr. Johnson, as he finished reading the ill-written sentences, u you can have only two marks for this com- position. It is very poorly composed, and OLDER SISTERS. 97 you have spelt any twice e-n-n-y, and I told you that I should mark you for that mistake, if you ever made it again." Mary took back her slate in a very passion- ate manner, and returned to her seat, where she sat for some moments doing nothing, till Mr. Johnson noticed her idleness and said, quiie sternly, — " Mary, you have wasted nearly a quarter of an hour, and had better do something quickly, or you will have a cipher for Attention, for you have already lost one mark for it." At this information, Mary was very angry and burst into tears, which was the worst thing she could do, as thereby she lost another mark for Deportment, and unfitted herself for the rest of her studies. When school was out, she had missed two more lessons, from being so much out of temper ; and was in such wretched ill-humor, that she even refused to join in the play which she had anticipated with so much pleasure. When, however, she saw all the other girls arranging their baby-houses, her sad feelings were in part dispelled, and she assisted Sarah Carter in arranging theirs. " Come, Eliza Carter," said Jennie to Sa- 9 98 OLDER SISTERS. rah's younger sister, who was atjout her age ; " let us look at Mary and Sarah's baby -house, for I suppose it will be ours too. Is not this a pretty little thing for their bed-room ? " she asked, as she took up a little bureau of painted pasteboard, which was the pride of Mary's heart. " Let that alone, wont you ? " said Mary, in a cross tone. " You can touch this table, for it is Sarah's," remarked Eliza Carter, as she handed out a little wooden table from the desk to her com- panion. " No she can't either," said Sarah, in an equally cross tone with that which Mary had just used. " You always stay on the play- ground at noon, and you would be there now, if you did not think that you must be hanging around to see what we big girls are about. Out of the school-room, every one of you ! " "lam not going to mind you ! " said Jen- nie, looking very resolute and very ugly. " But you must me," said Mary ; "for you know father says tjiat he shall punish you and Margaret, if you don't do all that I tell you, while Alice has to stay away from school ; and I say you must not stay here." OLDER SISTERS. 99 Major Cameron had really told the younger children to mind Mary while they were away from home, so they did not now dare to dis- obey her, but walked sullenly towards the door. Eliza Carter still remained by the desk, in- specting its contents, till Sarah twitched a doll, which she w r as looking at, out of her hand, and said, — "If you don't go this moment with Jennie out of the room, I '11 put you out." " But mother would not like to have me stand on the ground with my sore throat to- day, for you know there has been a shower, and my shoes are thin," answered Eliza. She did not, indeed, look well, for she was very thin and pale, and her throat was bound round with a flannel. Mary began to feel sorry for her, and to see very plainly, in Sarah's case, how wrong it was for her to be so un- kind to her little sister, though she had not thought of it in her own, when she sent Mar- garet and Jennie away. " O, let Eliza stay," she said in a pleas- anter tone ; " for she wont do any hurt. She is not troublesome, as my sisters are." " But then they '11 think that they ought to be here too, if Eliza stays," replied Sarah ; 100 OLDER SISTERS. "and it wont hurt her to play out this warm day. Run away, and I '11 give you some- thing that you will like," she added, not ex- actly liking to execute her threat of putting her sister out by force. Eliza was more easily coaxed than scolded into obedience, and, though somewhat reluct- antly, followed the little Camerons to the play- ground, where they stood for some time look- ing wistfully in at the windows, until they oc- cupied themselves in trying to find some way of fixing a baby-house out-doors, after the plan which the older girls were carrying on in the school-room. The ground was very damp, and Eliza coughed several times during the afternoon ; but Sarah thought it was only to frighten her, and looked at Mary and laughed contemptuously, every time that she did it. When the school closed, Mary Cameron found that she had a worse report than she had ever had before, and w 7 as heartily ashamed when she remembered the boast which she had made upon her way to school in the morning. There was some truth in the remark which Margaret made when they were going home ; but she should not have made it then, for it only provoked her sister. OLDER SISTERS. 101 "Do you know, Mary," she asked, " the reason that you have lost so many marks to- day ? Don't you remember that Miss Fen- wick always told us, l a bad Sabbath would make a bad week ' ? You played a great deal yesterday, and when you came down late to breakfast this morning, I could not help think- ing of it." Margaret found it rather easier to detect the causes of her sister's errors than to cure her own. She had, however, succeeded very well in her studies, from diffidence of herself, which placed her upon her guard, and had lately con- quered some of her worst habits. We cannot expect children to get over faults all at once, which many do not cure during a long life ; and a want of charity for others is one of those which even the old find it hard to overcome. But have you forgotten, all this while, that Alice sprained her foot ? She, poor child ! has had reason enough to remember it ; for although it is nearly a month since it hap- pened, she has not yet been able to walk across her room. It seems almost a year since she went to school, although the children told her all that happened every day, and 102 OLDER SISTERS. many of her schoolmates had been to see her Fanny Martin was the very first that called after the accident, for she had a grateful heart, and, owing to the good example which Alice set, the girls treated her much more kindly. Alice was glad to see them all, but sometimes her confinement was tiresome ; and when Ma- ry brought fresh flowers to place on her bu- reau, she longed to see them once more upon their stems, especially Lizzie's roses and jes- samine, which she had promised to watch dur- ing her absence. Sometimes, too, when her foot gave her pain, she would be quite irrita- ble, and then Mary would remark, — " You used to say that you could be good if you were alone, but I don't see that you grow any better by being so much by yourself, and read- ing the Bible so many hours every day." Mary had never been confined to her room for long weeks, and did not know how hard it is to preserve a kind and cheerful spirit, when suffering from weakness and pain. If Alice had complained more, all the fam- ily would have pitied her ; but she was so pa- tient, and made so light of her misfortune, that they forgot how serious a one it really was. OLDER SISTERS. 103 All the children, it is true, missed her at school, where she had been their pride ; and sometimes in the morning, when Mary had placed the cushions under her foot and put every thing she would want on the little table beside her, the tears would come into her dark eyes, as she kissed her, saying, " Dear Alice, I do indeed wish you were well enough to go with us." But when the children were away, they had little time to think of their suffering sister ; and Major Cameron himself, after he had seen that Alice was made comfortable for the day, went about his business without thinking how she employed the time of his absence. He was surprised, one day, on returning home at an earlier hour than usual, to find his daughter with her head resting upon her hands in an attitude of deep dejection. " What ails you, Ally ? " he asked affec- tionately. u Have you the headache, or does your foot pain you ? " " No, father ; I am only a little weak to- day," she replied, without raising her head ; but the sound of her voice showed that she had been weeping. 104 OLDER SISTERS. " My poor child ! " said Major Cameron, sorrowfully, as he raised her head and kissed her affectionately ; " you have been sad and lonely, and I have never thought of it before. Forgive me, my daughter, for being so incon- siderate, for I scarcely deserve the name of a father." Alice could not bear to see her father un- happy, and therefore attempted to reply cheer- fully, — " O, I am not often so very lonely, for Susan sits with me all the time that she can spare, and I have had plenty of good books to read, so that much of my time has passed very pleasantly. My eyes have not been weak till the last few days, and I have been able still to repeat over a great many hymns and verses to myself, so I have no rea- son to complain." Major Cameron loved his daughter for this effort to make the best of her solitary condi- tion, but he saw, nevertheless, how much she needed occupation and amusements. " One of your sisters must stay at home with you," he said, "till you are better, to read to you and prevent you from taxing your eyes so con- stantly. Which would you prefer ? " OLDER SISTERS. 105 " O, that would not be at all worth while," exclaimed Alice. u They are so fond of go- ing to school, that it would be a pity to keep them at home for me. I am very sorry that I was so silly as to give way to my feelings, but 1 will try for the future to have more pa- tience and self-command." Major Cameron, however, would not listen to Alice's urgent request, that her sisters might not any of them be kept at home on her ac- count, but asked if she would not prefer Mary. " O, no ! " she said ; "for the little ones could not do as well without her. If one must stay, let it be Jennie, for I might hear her les- sons, and then she would not lose as much from being absent from school." " That will be a good plan," said the Ma- jor, who thought that the occupation of teach- ing her sister might amuse Alice. " On the whole, I am glad to have some excuse for re- moving Jennie, for she is getting quite rude from being at a public school, and you always have a happy influence over her." This arrangement being made, Alice found ample occupation for the rest of the day in de- vising plans for the instruction of her pupil. 106 OLDER SISTERS. She made up her mind to go on as regularly as if there were a whole school, and was really- impatient to look over her lessons, that she might explain them with more ease. The first thing that she did was to fold up some paper for a behaviour-book, and rule it for several weeks ; and then her father wrote down the different studies that Jennie would pursue, and the days of the week. This was hardly com- pleted before the children returned from school. Mary came home somewhat out of humor from her unfortunate day at school, but Jennie and Margaret were quite lively. When Alice informed her little sister that she was to re- main at home, she began to object very strong- ly to the arrangement ; but the moment that Alice said, in a sorrowful tone, — "It is fa- ther's plan, not mine, Jennie ; I should never have wished you to stay at home for my com- fort," her warm heart was touched, and she threw her arms around Alice's neck, saying, — " I did not mean to be cross about it, Ally, for I am sure I shall be happier at home with you than at school. Mary and the big girls wont let me play with them, but here I can do just as I choose." OLDER SISTERS. 107 Jennie then entered into a recital of the grievances of the day, to which Alice listened very attentively till the bell for tea put an end to the conversation. CHAPTER IX. POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. The next morning two seats were empty in Mr. Johnson's school, one of which had been occupied by Eliza Carter, and the other by Jennie Cameron. Sarah Carter informed her teacher that her little sister was not well enough to venture out ; but she told Mary Cameron, in confidence, that she did not be- lieve there was anything the matter with Eliza, only she had persuaded her mother to let her stay at home, by talking so much about her sore throat. A few days afterwards, however, Sarah came to school with her eyes very much swollen, as if she had been crying all night ; and then she informed the girls that Eliza had the scarlet fever, and the physician thought it was doubtful whether she would ever get well. POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. 109 The children were of course all struck with horror at this news, but still none of them could realize that it was possible for Eliza to die. They knew that children were sometimes taken away, and they had heard it said that some whom they had seen were now dead ; but they could not believe it possible for one from among themselves, who was a few days before so full of life, to be carried to the silent grave. Even when told that Eliza was worse, they con- tinued to talk about what they should do when she was well ; and were as much shocked when at last the tidings came that she was dead, as if they had never even known of her being sick. The whole of Mr. Johnson's school attend- ed Eliza Carter's funeral, dressed in white, with black ribands upon their arms ; and there were many wet eyes, as they went up, one by one, to take a last look of the little pale face in the narrow coffin. Neither could any of them keep from weeping at the grave, when they heard poor Sarah's sobs, for it seemed as if her heart was broken. Even after the last prayer was said, she could not be persuaded to leave the spot ; and when some one said that the ground 10 110 POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. was too. damp for her to remain longer upon it, she almost shrieked out, — " So it was damp when I made Eliza stay out upon it. I put her in the grave by my unkindness, and now 1 want to lie down beside her." Mr. Carter was obliged at last to take the poor girl up in his arms and place her in the carriage, from which she was lifted out and carried into the house almost insensible. It was no wonder, if, after seeing such a distressing scene, the girls at Mr. Johnson's school were not as lively as usual. For many days, instead of playing together at noon, they would assemble in little groups, and talk about Eliza, and wonder where she now was. None of the children could remember ever having heard her speak of dying, or of another world ; and now it seemed strange that nothing had been said of it before, and they thought it im- possible that they should ever forget how sud- denly they too might be taken out of this life. Mary Cameron and her little sisters were made even more serious than the rest by this sad event, for they had been taught what a fearful thing it is to go out of this world with- out being prepared for heaven, and they could POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. Ill not help asking themselves if their example and conversation had been such as to fit their little companion for eternal happiness. Jennie remembered that she had encouraged Eliza in speaking unkindly of her sister on the day when Sarah would not permit her to remain in the school-room ; and Margaret could not forget touching her foot to prevent her from telling Mr. Johnson about something that she had done, thus leading her to deceive their kind teacher. When Alice heard, some weeks after this melancholy event, that Sarah Carter remained in very poor health, and was so miserable that nothing could cheer her, she regretted much that her foot still continued too lame to pay her a visit. She begged Mary and Margaret to go and see if they could not do her some good, and carry her a bouquet of their prettiest flowers, which she used to admire. " O, I can't, indeed," said Mary, at first ; " she feels so badly, and the house will remind me so of the day that we went there to poor Eliza's funeral, that I am sure that I shall do nothing but cry." " Never mind that," replied Alice ; " you J 12 POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. will only be fulfilling the command, to weep with those that weep ; and it is sometimes very- good for us to see suffering, that we may be thankful for our own blessings. I have thought sometimes that it was hard for me to be shut up here ; but when I think now how much worse it would be to lose one of my sisters, I feel that I have no right to complain." "Can't you go alone, Mary ? " asked Mar- garet ; u I am so much younger than Sarah, that she wont want to see me, and I can't beai to go where people feel badly." " O, let me go," said Jennie, who scarcely thought where her sisters were going, from the habit of always begging to accompany them the moment that they stirred from home. As Margaret was very quick to feel, it did seem a pity to take her where she would be too much affected to give any consolation, and so Mary, for the sake of company, granted Jen- nie's request, on condition that she should behave herself, and be very sober. It was Saturday afternoon when Mary and Jennie rang at Mr. Carter's door, and were shown up stairs into the little bed-room which the sisters used to occupy together. Mrs. POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. 113 Carter was still ill from the fatigue and sorrow which she had undergone, and her husband was absent on necessary business, so that Sa- rah felt doubly sad. She looked very miser- able, and was occupied in putting away, in one of the bureau-drawers, all the playthings which had belonged to Eliza. The moment that she saw Mary and Jennie Cameron, she burst into tears, and continued weeping so bit- terly, that the children did not know what to say to her. At length Mary put her arm around the neck of the little mourner, and whispered in a faltering voice, — "Don't cry, Sarah, for per- haps Eliza is in heaven. Alice says that she has heard, that, while she was sick, she asked if God would forgive little girls w r ho had never thought anything about him ; and all the while she did not speak, she might have been pre paring to die." " O, it is not that, it is not that that troubles me," replied Sarah, sobbing bitterly. " Don't you remember how I made her stand out- doors the last day she went to school, and how cross I was to her ?" " But you did not think," said Mary, sooth- 10* 114 POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. ingly, 6C that it would hurt her, and you know that her throat was sore before, so that she would probably have had the scarlet fever at any rate." " Perhaps so," replied Sarah, sadly ; "but I would give the world if I had never spoken so cross to her. I remember now every un- kind word that I ever said, and you cannot think how wretchedly it makes me feel." Mary did not wonder that such remembran- ces should make her friend miserable, and, after trying in vain to comfort her, she began to cry too. Jennie, who always liked to do as her sisters did, looked at them for a moment with wondering, tearful eyes, and then burst into such a fit of sympathetic weeping, that Mary could with difficulty put a stop to her noisy sorrow. After leaving Mr. Carter's, the children walked some distance upon their way home without uttering a single word, till at length Mary said, very soberly, — " I am sorry, Jen- nie, that I made you go out of the school- room that day when we were fixing our baby- houses, I have been thinking how often I have been unkind to my sisters, and how wretchedly POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. 115' it would make me feel if one of them were to die, like poor Eliza. I hope I shall do better for the future." Mary had truly profited by her visit, if she had learned that we ought always to live as if we were one day ourselves to die, and to treat others as if they were liable soon to be taken from us. Margaret was sitting with Alice when her sisters returned, in her little chamber, which she was not yet able to leave, although her foot was so much better, that she could walk across the room without pain. Both of the little girls saw from Mary's countenance that she had had a very sad visit, and asked her to tell them all about it. Alice could not hear without tears of the mournful condition of her former schoolmate, and how bitterly she re- proached herself for her treatment of her sis- ter ; and the same thought came into her mind which had weighed so heavily upon Mary. " While we live," said Mary, as she fin- ished her sad story, " do let us try and act more as if we loved one another. I have re- solved never again to say an unkind word to one of my sisters." 116 POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. Alice had made the same resolution in her own heart, but she had become so convinced of her weakness, that she had lost the self- reliance which formerly had made her so liable to err. She now said, humbly, — "I will try, too, to be more patient with you all ; but you must bear with me, if I forget my resolution. I fear we shall all be apt to break it, unless we ask strength from God. Let us each of us remember in our prayers to-night to beg that he will grant us the spirit of peace, and make us c take heed to our ways, that we offend not with our tongues.' " Although the conversation had been a very sad one, the children felt more happy after making this resolution than they had done for a great many nights, as they sat in the twilight listening to a story, which Alice told them she had read that day, of a very bad-tempered child, who by self-control became so amiable that every body loved her. When Major Cameron came up to see his little daughter, she had not yet finished the narrative, so he told her to go on, while he himself took up a newspaper. He did not read, however, but listened to the kind, way in POOR LITTLE ELIZA CARTER. 117 which Alice was instructing her sisters, and felt thankful to the providence of God which was guiding his children onward in that path of peace which he had not yet sought to enter. When the story was finished, and they be- gan to talk about Lizzie, he dronped his paper, and, taking Jennie upon his knee, joined in the conversation. They all wondered why they had not heard lately from her ; but they were not over-anx- ious about her welfare, for Alice had taught them that it was a duty not to be afraid of evil tidings, and they were naturally too full of hope to stand much in need of this good counsel. That night the little girls kissed each other with more affection than they had ever done before, and not one of them forgot to pray that they might live more as the children of the same Heavenly Father. This petition was made in sincerity and truth, and with a firm belief that God would be more willing to grant than they to ask such a blessing. Their faith was not vain, for the spirit of love and peace descended into all their hearts. CHAPTER X A few days only had elapsed since the events recorded in the last chapter, when Ma- jor Cameron came home with the welcome in- telligence, that he had received a letter from Lizzie, containing the joyful tidings of her speedy return. He also insinuated that there was some other very good news, which he would not tell them till they had all guessed what it was to be. " I know ! " exclaimed Jennie ; "it is that Lizzie has bought the wax doll that she prom- ised me." cc What an idea ! " said Mary, rather con- temptuously, for the moment either forgetting her good resolutions, or not knowing that her manner was unkind. " Father means that it is lizzie's return home. 119 something that will please us all ; I guess it is that Lizzie has regained her health." " Is that all ? " said Margaret, in a tone of disappointment. " That is true," replied the Major, srniling; but he still held the letter closed in his hands, as he said, " One more guess, and then I will tell you." Alice, who had come down stairs that morn- ing for the first time since- her fall, and was lying on the sofa to rest after the exertion, now started up, and, clasping her hands, eager- ly exclaimed, — u Can it be ? Miss Fenwick ! Can it be that she is coming back ? " u Ah ! your little warm heart is the prophet, after all, my darling," replied Major Cameron, with a smile that made Alice sure that she was correct ; " here, take the letter and read it to your sisters, as you have come nearest to the truth." Alice's hands trembled so that she could scarcely unfold the epistle ; and she was so agitated with joyful anticipation, that the chil- dren declared that they could not hear a word that she read ; so Major Cameron took back the letter and commenced it again. 120 lizzie's return home. " Dear father, dear sisters, — I never loved you all so well before in the world as I do now ; and I can scarcely contain my joy, when I tell you that in two weeks more I expect to be at home. I have some other news, too, which will be very delightful to the children, but I will put it off a little while, as I am sure that I have told you enough already to make you all as happy as I am. 64 I wrote two long letters some time since, to be sent with a package which a friend of Uncle James was going to carry to the South ; but he discovered that it had been left through mistake ; so you must have been wondering what had become of me. I cannot go over now the account which I gave in them of my employments for the last two months ; but I shall have such a budget to tell, as will keep the children amused through many of the long evenings next winter ; and I know even father will smile at some of my adventures in the city. " You remember that I did not much like Jane, at first, and before I had been here long, we had a right-down quarrel about country people and the South. She made fun of me, lizzie's return home. 121 because I talked so much about the servants, and spoke of them so familiarly, and said she should think that they were my intimate friends. I could not stand this, and so I told her that Susan had more sense than half the ladies whom I had seen in New York. She seemed to think, after I had made this speech, that I was a perfect goose ; but Cousin Tom took my part, though this only made the matter worse. Aunt Mary blamed her before me, but then she talked about c hot Southern blood,' and I saw that it troubled her because her own niece and her husband's daughter did not agree better, and I began to feel very unhappy and homesick. " I was sitting alone in the parlour one morning, in one of my very worst moods, when the door opened and our dear Miss Fen- wick came in. I did not know that she was in the city, so you may imagine how delighted I was. Before she hardly had time to ask about you all, I had told her the whole story of my grievances, — how Jane and I quar- relled, and how heartless New York people were, and what a pity it was that I ever left home. 11 122 lizzie's return home. fC She listened to my story as patiently as she always used to do to our complaints, and after compassionating me very kindly, she be- gan to show me wherein I had been myself to blame. She then asked what I had been doing since she left, and at first I found it hard to tell, as I had wasted so much of my time in looking out of the window, and walking up and down Broadway shopping for things I did not want. " I could not think of a single book that I had read, or any sewing that I had done ; and for the first time remembered what she had told me before, of my being as much account- able for the days I spent while visiting, as if they were passed at home. When I had scraped together all that I had done or seen which could possibly be of any benefit to me, she replied with that sorrowful smile which she always used to have when we had done wrong and she did not want to blame us severely. " C I see, Lizzie, what is the matter with you. This constant dissipation has put your mind into a very bad state, and it was impos- sible that you should be otherwise than unhap py. I should be sorry if it were not so, fo; 123 our Creator has kindly ordered this uneasiness of mind when we are not living according to his will, for the same reason that we are made uncomfortable by food which is not good for us. Nothing will ever content you, my child, until you obey his commands ; and when you seek pleasure in constant excitement and for- getfulness of serious things, you will always become unhappy.' " ' But it is all the fault of this hateful New York,' I exclaimed ; ' and I wish that I was out of it, or that Cousin Jane was not such a provoking girl.' " Miss Fenwick blamed me very much for speaking so hastily ; and after a long conver- sation, I promised to try if I could not enjoy the remainder of my visit here by living more as if I must account for the manner in which my time was passed. " The next morning I reopened my neg- lected Bible, and read in it nearly an hour be- fore breakfast ; and when Cousin Jane came down into the dining-room, and said some very provoking things, I did not feel in the least in- clined to reply to them. After breakfast, I went out shopping for Aunt Mary, though at 124 lizzie's return home. first I disliked the idea of walking so early in the morning ; but the effort did me good, and I bought some white plaid muslin to make some aprons for Jennie and Margaret, which Aunt showed me how to cut out. Jane began to laugh at me for being so suddenly industri- ous ; but she soon got tired of sitting by the window by herself, and finally said she would try and hem the strings for me. I knew that she did not sew nicely, and was on the point of refusing her offer ; but I remembered my good resolutions, and turned down the hems for her the width that I wanted them. When Cousin Tom came in from school, he said that we looked like a sewing society, and he would be the minister and read to us ; and though he began in fun, he found the book more interest- ing than he expected, and kept on reading for as much as an hour. " But I shall never get to the end of my letter, if I am so particular in telling you every thing that I did. I know, in writing home, I ought to try and amuse you all with accounts of what I see ; but it seems so good to have some one to write to about my own little pri- vate feelings and trials, which it is not the cus- lizzie's return home. 125 torn to tell to every body in New York, as I used to do at borne, that I forget bow selfish I am. " O dear ! Cousin Jane has just been in my room, and says that Tom will go with us on board a ship-of-war with the officers of which he is acquainted, if I will be ready in ten minutes. I shall only have time to say that the last few weeks of my visit here have been very pleasant, and it was my own fault that I did not enjoy it before. " Now for the good news ! Who do you think is coming home with me to stay all win- ter ? Miss Fenwick. " Don't be too much delighted. I am afraid, in your joy at meeting her again, you will scarcely have a welcome for your poor Lizzie. Her health is not very good, and she dpes not like to remain at the North during the cold weather ; and on this account her relations have at last consented to let her return to Walnut Hill. She was delighted to hear that we had not yet procured a teacher, for I be- lieve she does love us as well as if we were her own children. I do hope that Ally 's foot is well. 11* 126 lizzie's return home. "I am myself in perfect health, and only sorry that I am obliged in such haste to sign myself your own loving "Lizzie." In an hour after the reception of this letter, every thing at Walnut Hill seemed to have been moved out of its ordinary place, and every body to have forsaken their usual occu- pation. Even down in the kitchen there was universal commotion ; for as soon as the fami- ly had finished Lizzie's letter, Mary had car- ried it down to read to the servants, who shared fully in the delight of the children. " Well ! well ! " said old Aunt Polly ; " I never thought that I should live to seen Miss Amely again, poor old woman that I am, with such a misery in my back, and a wheezing all day ; the very sight on her will do me good." " Bless Miss Lizzie's good heart ! Lord help the child ! " exclaimed Aunt Becky, who in her way was a pious Methodist. " The dear critter is fond of home as ever, and an't coming home w T ith no big notions arter all. She allers was monstrous warm-hearted ; but to think of her gettin mad with her city cousin, lizzie's return home. 127 over the water, about us poor black people, just like my old mistress, for all the world ! " There was no end to the capers that James cut on the occasion ; and when sent to the pump to fill a pitcher with water, he brought it back to the house as empty as it went, en- tirely forgetting, in his confusion, what he was sent for. Susan was such a sensible servant, that, no matter what was the matter, she went quietly on with her work, and before the rest had finished their exclamations of surprise and joy, she had commenced putting Miss Fen- wick's room in order for her reception. Poor Alice did long so to fly around with the children, and do something to prepare for the new-comers ; but her foot confined her to the sofa, where she was left alone to her pleasant thoughts. The next day, the little Camerons pleaded for a vacation, as children always do when there is anything unusual going on at home ; but Major Cameron thought that it would be perfect folly for them to waste so much time ; and he knew, besides, that the weeks would seem much shorter if they were occupied. Alice also went on regularly with her little 128 lizzie's return home. scholar, and was more engaged than ever in making her perfect in her recitations, that she might pass a good examination in her studies when Miss Fenwick arrived. The little teach- er had had her trials while instructing Jennie, and was convinced how many times she must have wearied Miss Fenwick, when not aware that she was taxing her patience. Now, espe- cially, she had need of all her self-command ; for Jennie's mind, from being at home, was constantly distracted by something that was going on, and it was almost impossible to fix her attention. By dint of hard labor, how- ever, she recited every day till that fixed for Lizzie's arrival, and then Alice was herself too full of other thoughts to be very strict in requiring perfect attention. Hew nicely the little Camerons looked, as they all stood together in the porch, watching to catch the first glimpse of the travellers ! There was Alice, who had been able to walk to the door, now seated in a rocking- chair, in a pretty pink gingham dress, with her hair braided very nicely, and tied with ribands of the same color. She was a little pale, it is true, from her long confinement, but joy had lizzie's return home. 129 given her eyes unusual brightness, and lent a delicate rose-color to her fair cheek. She sat straight, too, and this made her figure look almost as well as Mary's, whose new purple lawn was very becoming. Jennie and Mar- garet were not too much occupied with the thoughts of their sister and Miss Fenwick, to smooth their white aprons complacently down over their blue muslin dresses, and give an ad- miring glance at their new bronze boots. " There comes a carriage ! It is turning up this way ! It must be they ! O, delightful ! O, yes ! we all know that straw bonnet with the green riband and veil, which Lizzie wore away, and now we can see her smiling face." The Major is riding up beside them on horseback, and the love of the fond father re- ally makes him look handsome, as he lifts Liz- zie from the carriage, and imprints the warm kiss of paternal affection upon her glowing cheek.