Cfie ILiftratg 
 
 of lift 
 
 CHnitier0itp of il3ortJ) Carolina 
 
 (gift from t|je 
 
 &outSetn Pim0 Eibtat? 
 
l-ric^-m. 
 
 This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS 
 ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE 
 CENTS a day thereafter. It was taken out on 
 the day indicated below: 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
 
 in 2012 witii funding from 
 
 University of Nortii Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://archive.org/details/jessiesparrotOOmath 
 
LITTLE SUNBEAMS. 
 
 IV. 
 JESSIE'S PARROT, 
 
 I 
 
§8 %^ i^ui^or 0f i^xu Balnrat. 
 
 I. 
 
 LITTLE SUNBEAMS. 
 
 By Joanna H. Mai-hews, Author of the " Bessie Books." 
 
 I. Belle Powkks' Locket. 16mo $1 00 
 
 II. Dora's Motto. 16mo 1.00 
 
 III. Lily Noruis' Enemy 1.00 
 
 IV. Jessie's Parrot 1.00 
 
 V. Mamie's Watchword 1.00 
 
 —4 
 
 IL 
 THE FLOWERETS. 
 
 A series of Stories on the Commandments. 6 vols. In a 
 
 box $3.60 
 
 " It is not easy to say too good a word for this admirable series. 
 Interesting, graphic, impressive, they teach with great distinctness the 
 cardinal lessons which they would have the youthful reader learn." — 
 S. S. Times. 
 
 « 
 
 III. 
 
 THE BESSIE BOOKS. 
 
 6 vols. In a box $7.50 
 
 " Bessie is a very charming specimen of little girlhood. It is a lovely 
 story of home and nursery life among a family of bright, merry little 
 children." — Presbyterian. 
 
 ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 
 New York, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGB ■ 
 
 I. The New Scholar 9 ' 
 
 II. An Excursion 81 . 
 
 III. Jessie and her Grandfather 52 
 
 IV. The Parrot 69 ' 
 
 V. Grandmamma Howard 90 i 
 
 VI. Jealousy 110 ! 
 
 VII. A Misfortune 129 ' 
 
 VIII. "The Spider and the Fly" 148 ; 
 
 IX. A Guilty Conscience 168 ; 
 
 X. A Game of Characters 189 
 
 XL Confession - . 205 i 
 
 X]I. The Fair 223 ^ 
 
JESSIE'S PAKEOT. 
 
 THE NEW SCHOLAR, 
 
 ANNY LEROY is going away from 
 our school," said Carrie Ransora 
 one morning to Belle Powers and 
 two or three more of her young schoomlates. 
 " Oh, dear ! I'm sorry," said Belle. 
 " So am I," said Dora Johnson. " Why is 
 she going ? " 
 
 " Has she finished her education, and is she 
 never going to school any iliore ? " asked 
 Mabel Walton. 
 
 "Why, no," said Belle; "she's nothing 
 
V 
 
 lo Jessie^ s Parrot, 
 
 but a little girl ; and you don't finish your 
 education till you're quite grown up and have 
 long dresses." 
 
 <•<■ Why is she going away ? " asked Lily. 
 "I don't want her to go. I like Fanny." 
 
 " So do I. She's real nice," said Carrie ; 
 *'but she is going, for all, 'cause her father 
 and mother and all her family are going to 
 Europe and she is going with them." 
 
 " I wish she wouldn't," said Belle ; and 
 one and another echoed their sorrow at the 
 loss of their schoolmate. 
 
 Fanny had always been well liked in the 
 school ; but now that they were about to lose 
 her the little girls found that they were even 
 more fond of her than they had supposed, and 
 many regrets were expressed when, a moment 
 later, she came in accompanied by Gracie 
 Howard. 
 
 Fanny herself was very melancholy and 
 low, for this was to be the last day at school, 
 as she informed the other children ; the jour- 
 ney to Europe having been decided upon rather 
 
The New Scholar, 13 
 
 like Hattie as well as they might do upon a 
 first acquaintance ; but she very properly and 
 generously resolved not to tell tales and preju- 
 dice the minds of the other children against 
 ihe new comer. Better to give Hattie all the 
 chance she could and let it be her own fault 
 if she were not popular with her classmates. 
 
 I cannot say that Fanny reasoned this out 
 in just such words ; but the kind thought was 
 in her mind, and she resolved to hold her 
 peace and say nothing unkind about her 
 cousin. Would Hattie have done as much for 
 her or for any one else ? You shall judge for 
 yourself by and by. 
 
 The parting with Fanny was rather a sad 
 one, for the children were all fond of her, and 
 she took it so very hardly herself, declaring 
 that she never expected to see any one of them 
 again. For Fanny, though a very good and 
 amiable little girl, was one who was apt to 
 "borrow trouble," as the saying is; that is, 
 she was always worrying herself about misfor- 
 tunes which would, could, or might happen to 
 herself or her friends. 
 
14 yesste's Parrot. 
 
 Therefore she now expressed her expectation 
 of never seeing any of her young friends 
 again, and when Lily very naturally inquired 
 if the family meant to stay " for ever an' ever 
 an' ever," said, " No, but people were very 
 often drowned when they went to Europe in a 
 steamer, and very likely she would be." 
 
 Nor was she to be persuaded to take a more 
 cheerful view of the future, even when Dora 
 Johnson suggested that many more people 
 crossed the ocean and returned in safety than 
 were lost upon it. She was determined to 
 dwell upon the possibilities, and even proba 
 bilities of her being shipwrecked, and took 
 leave of her schoolmates with a view to such 
 a fate. 
 
 " Fanny did not act as if she thought we'd 
 like her cousin Hattie very much, did she ? " 
 questioned Nellie Ransom as she walked 
 homeward with Gracie Howard, Dora Johnson, 
 and Laura Middleton. 
 
 "No, she did not," said Laura. "Fanny 
 don't tell taleg or say unkind things about 
 
The New Scholar. 15 
 
 people, but it was quite plain she does 
 not think so very much of Hattie Leroy." 
 
 " I know the reason why," said Gracie. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Laura. 
 
 " Fanny said something very hateful about 
 me," answered Gracie, " and Hattie told me 
 of it ; and just for that Fanny was mad at 
 Hattie." 
 
 "Well, I should think Fanny might be 
 mad," said Laura. " Hattie had no right to 
 tell you if Fanny didn't mean her to, and 
 I don't believe she did." 
 
 " No," said Gracie, " I don't suppose Fanny 
 did want me to know it ; but then she had no 
 business to say it." 
 
 " Hattie had no business to repeat it," said 
 Dora indignantly ; " if she is that kind of a 
 girl I don't wonder Fanny don't like her, 
 and I wish she was not coming to our 
 school." 
 
 <' What did Fanny say ? " asked Laura, who 
 had her full share of curiosity. 
 
 «' She said — she-er — she-er — I'm not going 
 
1 6 yessze's Parrot. 
 
 to tell you what she said," answered Gracie, 
 who was really ashamed to confess what slight 
 cause for offence Fanny had given, and that it 
 was her own wounded self-love which made it 
 appear so " hateful." 
 
 But although Gracie would not tell her 
 schoolmates, I shall tell you, for I know all 
 about it. 
 
 The mighty trouble was just this. 
 
 Hattie Leroy had but lately come to live in 
 the city, and just when her parents were look- 
 ing around for a good school to send her to, 
 Fanny's papa and mamma made up their 
 minds to take her abroad. This left her place 
 vacant in Miss Ashton's class, and, as you 
 have heard, it was at once secured for her 
 little cousin. 
 
 Meanwhile Gracie and Hattie, who had met 
 at Fanny's house, had struck up a violent 
 intimate friendship and were now much 
 together. 
 
 As may be supposed, Hattie was very curi- 
 ous respecting her future teacher and class- 
 
The JSIew Scholar, 17 
 
 mates, and asked both Fanny and Gracie many 
 questions about them. 
 
 But, although the accounts given by the 
 two children agreed in most points, yet, in 
 some way, the story told by Gracie left a very 
 different impression from that of Fanny. The 
 latter thought her teacher and classmates very 
 nearly, if not quite, perfect, and bestowed her 
 praise freely and without stint. Well, and if you 
 had heard Grade's report you might have said 
 that she did the same ; but whenever Gracie 
 said one good word for another she said a 
 dozen for herself. One girl was a very bright 
 scholar, but she stood second to Gracie ; 
 another was always punctual and steady, but 
 Gracie had still a higher number of marks for 
 these two virtues — or at least if she did not 
 have them, she deserved them, and it was the 
 fault of some one else that they had not fallen 
 to her share. Nellie R-ansom wrote such fine 
 compositions ; but then, they were by no means 
 to be compared to Grade's own, — oh, dear, no ! 
 So it was with each and every one ; whatever 
 2 
 
1 8 yesste^s Parrot. 
 
 merit any child in the class possessed. Grade's 
 went beyond it. 
 
 So at last Hattie quite naturally asked 
 Fanny if Gracie were really the best child, the 
 finest scholar, and the most admired and praised 
 of all her classmates. 
 
 " Why, no," answered Fanny ; " Gracie is a 
 very good scholar, and 'most always knows her 
 lessons perfectly ; but Nellie is even better than 
 she is, and has kept the head of the spelling 
 and history classes ever so long. And she 
 generally writes the best compositions ; but 
 Gracie don't think so, and always says Miss 
 Ashton is unjust if she gives Nellie the highest 
 marks. But Gracie is very smart, and can 
 learn quicker than any of the rest of us ; and 
 she 'most always behaves well in school too." 
 
 " Better than any one else? " asked Hattie. 
 
 '•'- No, " said Fanny, rather indignantly ; 
 " there's lots of the children that are just as 
 good as she is. She's not the best one in the 
 school at all. She's good enough, but not so 
 wonderful." 
 
The 'New Scholar, 19 
 
 " She tliinks she is," said Hattie. 
 
 *' That's nothing," answered Fanny; '"peo- 
 ple's thinking they are a thing don't make them 
 that thing, you know." 
 
 "• Then you think Gracie is conceited and 
 thinks a great deal of herself, do you ? " asked 
 Hattie. 
 
 " Why, yes," answered Fanny, though half 
 reluctantly ; " no one could help thinking that, 
 you know." 
 
 Fanny expressed herself in this manner 
 more as a way of excusing her own opinion of 
 Gracie than as accusing her little playmate. 
 
 " Who do you think is tlie best child in all 
 the school ? " asked Hattie. 
 
 " Well," answered Fanny, after a moment's 
 reflection, " I b'lieve Belle Powers is. At 
 least I think it is the best in her to be as good 
 as she is, for she has to try pretty hard some- 
 times." 
 
 " Why ? " asked inquisitive Hattie again. 
 
 " Because she has no mother, and she has 
 always been a good deal spoiled by her papa 
 
20 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 and her old nurse. But I never saw any child 
 who wanted to be good more than Belle, and 
 she tries very much ; and we are all very fond 
 of her, and Miss Ashton excuses her things 
 sometimes because she is sorry for her." 
 
 " Don't that make you mad ? " said Hattie. 
 
 " No," answered Fanny with much energy ; 
 "we'd be real mean if we were mad when 
 Belle has no mother. No, indeed ; no one 
 could bear to have Belle scolded ; we all love 
 her too much." 
 
 Now this was seemingly a most innocent con- 
 versation ; was it not ? and one could hardly 
 have supposed that it would have made trouble 
 for poor Fanny as it did. 
 
 Gracie and Fanny lived within a few doors 
 of one another, the latter a little nearer to 
 Miss Ashton's house than the former; and 
 Gracie was in the habit of stopping for Fanny 
 on her way to school that they might walk 
 there together. 
 
 But one morning a day or two after this, 
 Fanny, standing by the window and watching 
 
The New Scholar, 21 
 
 for her young friend as usual, saw her go by 
 with her maid without so much as turning 
 her head or casting her eye up at the win- 
 dow where she must know Fanny awaited her. 
 
 " It is the queerest thing I ever knew," said 
 Fanny to her father as she walked along by his 
 side a few moments later ; " it 'most seems as 
 if Gracie was offended with me to do so ; but 
 then she can't be, for I have not done a thing 
 to her. I shall ask her right away, as soon as 
 I am at school." 
 
 But Fanny was only just in time to take off 
 her hat and cloak and go to her seat before the 
 bell rang, and so had no opportunity before 
 school to inquire into the cause of Grade's 
 strange behavior. 
 
 There was no need of words, however, to 
 show that Gracie was indeed offended with her, 
 for averted looks and scornful tossings of the 
 head showed that plainly enough. Poor Fanny 
 was hurt and uncomfortable, and vainly tried to 
 imagine what she could have done that offended 
 Gracie so much. 
 
22 Jessie's Parrot, 
 
 She ran to her as soon as recess gave her 
 liberty to speak. 
 
 " Why, Grade ! what is the matter ? " she 
 asked. " Why did you not stop for me this 
 morning ? " 
 
 " 'Cause I did not choose to," answered 
 Gracie shortly. 
 
 " Are you mad with me ? " asked Fanny, 
 putting a very unnecessary question, for it was 
 quite plain to all beholders that this was 
 Gracie's state of mind. 
 
 "Yes, I am; and I have a good right to be 
 too," answered Gracie, her eyes flashing at 
 Fanny. 
 
 "What have I done?" asked the innocent 
 Fanny. 
 
 " You need not pretend you don't know, 
 Miss Hateful," replied Gracie, " nor pretend 
 you haven't a guilty conscience. I've found 
 you out ! I'll never be friends with you 
 again." 
 
 " You ought to tell Fanny what it is, and 
 let her make it up," said Belle. 
 
The New Scholar. 23 
 
 " She can't make it up. I've found her out 
 before it was too late. She is a false, treacher- 
 ous friend," said Gracie, waxing magnificent 
 and severe in her reproaches, as she imagined". 
 
 Poor Fanny, a tender-hearted, sensitive 
 little thing, was overwhelmed by these upbraid- 
 ings, which she was not conscious of deserving ; 
 but neither her entreaties nor those of the 
 other children could draw more than this from 
 Gracie, who turned away from them with an 
 air of great offence, and holding her head 
 very high with insulted dignity. 
 
 " Augh ! " said Lily Norris, who generally 
 took up the cudgels in defence of any one 
 whom she considered oppressed or injured, and 
 who generally contrived to be quite as cutting 
 and severe in her remarks as the offender had 
 been ; " you had better take care, Gracie ; 
 some day that nose of yours won't come down 
 again, it is growing so used to sticking itself 
 up at people. If when you're grown up 
 people call you ' stuck-up-nose Miss Howard,' 
 you won't feel very complimented; but you 
 
24 yesste^s Parrot, 
 
 can just remember it is the consequence of 
 your being such a proudy when you was 
 young." 
 
 Gracie made no reply, except by raising 
 both nose and head higher still, which 
 expressive motion Lily answered by saying, — 
 
 " Oh, donH I feel like giving you a good 
 slap ! " with which she walked away, fearing 
 perhaps that she might be too strongly 
 tempted to put her desire into execution. 
 
 Fanny was a good deal distressed, and the 
 other children all felt much sympathy for her, 
 for, as you will doubtless do, they thought 
 Grade's behavior not only unkind but also 
 unjust. 
 
 For, although such scenes as this were 
 becoming quite too frequent in consequence 
 of Grade's ever increasing vanity and conceit, 
 stie generally was ready enough to proclaim 
 the cause of offence ; but now she was not 
 only "hateful," as Lily called it, but " mysteri- 
 ous" also, and would give Fanny no opportu- 
 nity of explaining the supposed grievance. 
 
The New Scholar. 25 
 
 Fanny went home both unhappy and vexed, 
 — Gracie still carrying matters with a high 
 hand and refusing even to walk on the same 
 side of the street with her — and finding hep 
 cousin there, as was quite natural, she told her 
 of the trouble with Gracie. 
 
 Had Fanny not been too much disturbed to 
 pay much attention to Hattie's manner, she 
 might have seen that she looked uncomfortable 
 when she told her story, fidgeting and color- 
 ing and having so little to say that Fanny 
 thought her wanting in sympathy. But it was 
 not until the next day that she discovered that 
 Hattie was really the cause of the difficulty 
 with Gracie. By that time she had heard 
 that she was to sail for Europe in a few days, 
 and this made her more unwilling than ever to 
 be on bad terms with her young friend. 
 
 Meeting Gracie in the street, the poor little 
 grieved heart overflowed, and rushing up to 
 her, Fanny exclaimed, "Oh, Gracie ! don't 
 be cross with me any more, for I'm going to 
 Europe, and I expect I'll be drowned in the 
 
26 Jessie^s Parrot, 
 
 (Steamer, and then you'll be sorry you did not 
 make up with me." 
 
 This affecting prospect somewhat mollified 
 Gracie's vexation; but still she answered in a 
 tone of strong resentment, — 
 
 " Well, then ; and why did you say hateful 
 things about me to Hattie ? " 
 
 " I didn't," said Fanny, who had so little in- 
 tention of making unkind remarks about 
 Gracie that she had really forgotten her con- 
 versation with Hattie. " I didn't. I never 
 said a thing about you." 
 
 " Hattie said you did," answered Gracie ; 
 *' she says you told her I thought myself very 
 wonderful, but I was not ; and that 'most all 
 the girls were better scholars than me." 
 
 " I didn't," said Fanny indignantly. 
 
 " And she says," continued Gracie, " that 
 you said 'cause I thought myself good did not 
 make me good, and that Nellie wrote better 
 compositions than I did. And she says " — 
 this was plainly the first and worst count in 
 Gracie's eyes — "she says you said no one 
 
The New Scholar, 27 
 
 could help knowing I was conceited and stuck 
 up." 
 
 This last speech suddenly recalled to Fanny's 
 mind what she had said, and she was dismayed ; 
 nor could she see how she was to explain it to 
 Gracie. 
 
 She was fond of Gracie, who, when her self- 
 conceit did not come in her way, was really a 
 pleasant and lovable child ; and, oh ! how she 
 did wish she had never allowed Hattie to lead 
 her into that conversation about her school- 
 mantes. 
 
 She colored violently and exclaimed, — 
 
 " Well, I did say that, but I did not say it 
 in that way, Gracie. I don't quite know how 
 it was, but it did not seem so bad as that when 
 I said it. And Hattie asked me, so I couldn't 
 help saying what I thought ; but it wasn't of 
 my own accord and — and — well, you know, 
 Gracie, most all of us do think you think 
 a good deal of yourself — but — oh, dear! it 
 was too mean for Hattie to go and tell you ; 
 and somehow I suppose she's made you think 
 
28 Jessie's Parrot, 
 
 it was worse tlian it was. 'Cause I didn't 
 mean to saj any thing hateful about you ; but 
 Hattie asked such a lot of questions, and I 
 never thought she'd go and tell ; and I'm 
 going away, and I expect I'll never come back, 
 and, oh, dear, it's too mean ! " 
 
 All this Fanny poured forth in a very dis- 
 tressed and excited manner, finishing by a 
 burst of tears. 
 
 Yes, it was indeed " too mean," and Gracie 
 felt that Fanny had been shabbily treated. 
 She had listened to Hattie' s tell-tale report 
 with a half-ashamed feeling, knowing that 
 Fanny could never have thought that her 
 words would be repeated ; and, although anger 
 and mortification had taken a strong hold 
 upon her heart, she could not help seeing that 
 Fanny had more cause of complaint than 
 she had. 
 
 So she put her arm about Fanny's neck, and, 
 with what she considered ma2:rianimous for- 
 giveness, told her not to cry any more and she 
 would " stop being mad." 
 
The Hew Scholar, 29 
 
 And when they talked the matter over and 
 Fanny recalled what she had said, both of 
 Gracie and of the other children in the class, 
 it could not but be seen that Hattie had ex- 
 aggerated as well as " told tales," so making 
 mischief and bringing discord between the two 
 little friends. And had Fanny been revengeful, 
 or too proud to overlook Gracie' s unkindness 
 and beg her to tell her what had come between 
 them the trouble might have been lasting, and 
 they have parted for a long time with bitter- 
 ness and resentment rankling in their breasts. 
 
 But now there was peace between them once 
 more, though Gracie did still secretly feel 
 some vexation at Fanny for even allowing that 
 she could be wrong, and took great credit to 
 herself for being so forgiving and generous. 
 
 And now you will not wonder that Fanny 
 did not feel disposed to think Hattie " so very 
 nice," although she, far more generous and 
 charitable than her cousin, would not tell tales 
 and prejudice the minds of her future school- 
 mates jag,^inst her, 
 
30 yesste's Parrot. 
 
 But Gracie hardly thought the less of 
 Hattie for what she had learned of her ; for 
 she always liked any one who admired her, 
 and this Hattie professed to do ; perhaps she 
 really did so, for, as I have said, Gracie was 
 a pleasant child, and very clever in many 
 things. 
 
^--^.>30:/-^- 
 
 II. 
 
 AN EXCURSION. 
 
 LARGE omnibus stood before the door 
 of Miss Ashton's house, and had been 
 waiting there some minutes. This 
 was on a street where a line of omnibuses ran, 
 and every now and then some would-be passen- 
 ger made for the door of this one, when the 
 driver would turn and say something which 
 plainly disappointed him of his ride, at least 
 in this particular stage. 
 
 If such an individual chanced to glance up 
 at the windows of Miss Ashton's house, he 
 saw there a row of little faces in each of the 
 parlor windows ; and these same faces brim 
 mlng over with smiles and dimples at the sight 
 
32 Jessie^ s Parrot, 
 
 of his discomfiture, and the consciousness that 
 this omnibus had been chartered for their 
 especial pleasure and convenience, and that no 
 mere passer-by had any right or title therein. 
 
 Some people smiled in return to the happy 
 little group, and nodded good-naturedly, as if 
 to say, — 
 
 " Oh, yes ! it is all right, and we are glad 
 you are going to enjoy yourselves, and hope 
 you will have a very pleasant time ; " but one 
 or two looked cross, frowning and shaking their 
 heads or shoulders in a displeased manner, 
 and as if they had no sympathy with any sim- 
 ple pleasure or frolic. 
 
 Upon each and all of these did the little 
 observers pass remarks, according to what they 
 believed to be their deserts. 
 
 " Look at that man," said Belle Powers, 
 " how very displeased he looks. Just as cross 
 as any thing, because the driver wouldn't let 
 him go in our stage." 
 
 " I don't believe he likes children," said 
 Bessie Bradford. 
 
An Excursion. 33 
 
 " N05" said lier sister Maggie, '^ I think he 
 cannot be one of the happy kind the Bible 
 speaks about, that have their ' quivers full of 
 them,' for which he is to be pitied, and we 
 need not be very severe with him." 
 
 " But can't people like children and be glad 
 they are going to have a nice time, even if they 
 don't have any in their own homes?" asked 
 Carrie Ransom. 
 
 " Yes, of course," said Maggie, always ready 
 to find excuses for others ; " but then probably 
 that gentleman never had nice times himself 
 when he was a child, and so he does not 
 know how to appreciate them." 
 
 Maggie's long words and elegant sentences 
 always settled any doubtful point, and the 
 " cross gentleman," who still stood upon the 
 sidewalk waiting for the next passing omnibus, 
 was now regarded with eyes of sympathy and 
 pity, which were quite lost upon him as he 
 scolded and grumbled at the '' fuss that was 
 made nowadays about children's pleasures." 
 
 " Chartered for a troop of youngsters," he 
 
 3 
 
34 Jessie^s Parrot. 
 
 growled forth to another gentleman, who com- 
 ing np also opened the door of the omnibus, 
 and would have jumped in. 
 
 Upon which the new-comer drew back, 
 looked up smilingly at the windows of the 
 house, nodded and waved his hand, receiving 
 in return blushes and smiles for himself, with 
 an answering nod or two from some of the 
 least shy of the group. 
 
 " He's glad," said Lily ; " he is a nice gentle- 
 man, and I expect he has lots of little children 
 who love him dearly, and that he tries to give 
 them a good time." 
 
 " And so is made happy himself," said 
 Maggie. " There comes Patrick with the 
 shawls and wraps." 
 
 And now came Miss Ashton and a couple of 
 lady friends, who had volunteered to go with 
 her and help take care of the little party, 
 bound for an excursion and ramble in the 
 Central Park ; and the signal being given for 
 the merry group to take their places in the 
 stage, forth they all fluttered, like so many 
 
An Excursion. 35 
 
 birds ; and amid much laughing and chatter- 
 ing stowed ■'.hemselves away in the roomy con- 
 veyance. 
 
 They were all seated, and Patrick, Mrs. 
 Bradford's man, who had been lent for the 
 occasion, was mounting to his seat beside the 
 driver, when another gentleman, coming up 
 with a quick step, pulled open the door of the 
 omnibus, and popped in. He was plainly short- 
 sighted, and did not see how matters stood 
 until he was fairly inside and looking about 
 for a seat. 
 
 Perhaps, indeed, his hearing taught him 
 first, for he might almost have thought himself 
 in a nest of sparrows with all that chirping 
 and fluttering. A smothered laugh or two 
 also broke forth as he entered, and he speedily 
 saw that he had no right to a place there. 
 
 " Ah ! private, I see. Beg your pardon, 
 ladies," he said good-naturedly, and jumped 
 out again, turning with a bow, and " I wish 
 you a pleasant time." Then, as he caught 
 sight of a roguish face and a pair of dancing 
 
36 Jessie^s Pan'ot, 
 
 eyes watching him with a look of recognition, 
 be said, — 
 
 " Why, Lily, my dear ! Glad to see you. 
 Bound for a frolic? I hope you may enjoy 
 yourself; and your schoolmates as well. A 
 merry day to you, birdies." With which he 
 banged the door and watched them off. 
 
 " Who's that gentleman, Lily ? " asked more 
 than one voice. 
 
 ''He is Kitty Raymond's father. His name 
 IS Mr. Raymond," answered Lily. 
 
 " He is a nice, pleasant gentleman, is he 
 not?" asked Bessie. 
 
 " Well, yes, he is very pleasant," said Lily, 
 '' but then he is an awful liar." 
 
 '' Oh - h - h ! ah ! ah ! " broke from one and an- 
 other of the cliildren at Lily's very plain speak- 
 ing ; and Miss Ashton said reprovingly, — 
 
 " Lily, my child I what a very improper ex 
 pression for you to use, and of one so much 
 older than yourself, too." 
 
 " I don't care," said Lily, ''it is true. Miss 
 Ashton. I know he tells the most dreadfu 
 
An Excursion. 37 
 
 untrue stories, and that does make him a liar, 
 I know. If children say what is very untrue, 
 people say it is a lie ; and when grown-ups 
 say what is not true to children I don't see 
 why they are not liars all the same. And Mr. 
 Kaymond don't tell little stories what you 
 would call jibs^ either, but real big, true lies, 
 what Tom calls whoppers. So, though he is 
 pleasant and good-natured, I don't think he is 
 so very nice ; and I'm glad he is not my papa." 
 
 Miss Ashton hardly knew what to say, for if 
 Lily's accusations were true, — and the child 
 was not apt to accuse any one wrongfully, — 
 her reasoning was quite just, and it was plainly 
 to be seen that in some way her sense of right 
 and truth had been grievously offended. But 
 still she did not wish to have her speak in such 
 an improper way, and she was about to say 
 so again, when Lily broke forth once more 
 with, — 
 
 " Miss Ashton, I'll tell you, and you can 
 just judge for yourself. The other day I was 
 spending the afternoon with Kitty, and her 
 
38 yesste's Parrot. 
 
 little brother wanted to go down stairs with 
 us, and his papa did not want him to go ; so he 
 told him that the big black man in the closet 
 in the hall would catch him and put him up the 
 chimney. And it was a lie! I say it was a 
 real, true lie," persisted Lily, who was apt to 
 be emphatic in her choice of words, " for Mr. 
 Raymond knew there was no black man there, 
 and he just made it up." 
 
 " Was the little boy frightened ? " asked 
 Belle. 
 
 " Yes, as frightened as any thing, and he 
 really believes there is a black man in that 
 closet ; and Willie Raymond, who is six years 
 old, will not go past that closet without some 
 big person. And I did feel not very brave 
 myself when I went past it," confessed Lily, 
 " for all I knew there was no black man there 
 - — and if there was, he wouldn't hurt me, the 
 poor, old fellow — and knew it was just a — 
 well, if Miss Ashton says so, I'll call it a fih^ 
 but I shall think it was a lie." 
 
 Miss Ashton and the other ladies could 
 
An Excursion. 39 
 
 hardly help smiling at Lily's tone ; and the 
 former felt that the child was so far right that 
 she could scarcely reprove her again for her 
 indignant attack upon this too common form 
 of deceit. 
 
 ^' And Mr. Raymond went and winked at me, 
 just as if he thought I thought it was funny," 
 pursued Lily ; " but I thought it was only horrid, 
 and I didn't smile a bit, but looked back at him 
 very solemn. No, I don't like him, and I'm 
 not going to." 
 
 " You don't like him because you can't re- 
 spect him," said Bessie with solemn gravity. 
 
 " No, I just don't," answered Lily ; " and 
 I'm not going to go and have a respect for a 
 person who tells — who says what is not 
 true, not if they are as big and as old as a 
 mountain." 
 
 Lily's resolution was received with general 
 approval ; but now, at her suggestion, the sub- 
 ject was changed. There was enough to talk 
 about without taking any unpleasant thing; 
 and how those little tongues did go ! 
 
40 yessie^s Parrot. 
 
 It was a mild, lovely day in the early spring, 
 uncommonly warm for the season, — just the 
 day for an excm^sion. Modest crocuses, lovely 
 hyacinths and gay tulips were in bloom ; the 
 willows were just clothing themselves in their 
 first tender green, and every stream and spring 
 rippled and sparkled and sang as if it were 
 rejoicing in its new life and liberty. 
 
 The park was fairly alive with children, who, 
 like our little party, seemed determined to enjoy 
 this bright, spring day to the utmost ; but per- 
 haps none were so gleeful and merry as our 
 young friends. 
 
 The windows of the omnibus were open, and 
 the little girls had all scrambled upon their 
 knees that they might the better see what was 
 without ; and many a grave countenance was 
 won to smiles by the sight of the bright, joyous 
 faces as they rolled past, and the merry peals 
 of laughter which every now and then broke 
 forth from the cumbrous vehicle. And they 
 scattered not only smiles and bright looks 
 wherever they went, but other good things also. 
 
An Excursion. 41 
 
 Mabel Walton, who considered it almost im- 
 possible to enjoy oneself without a quantity of 
 candies and sugar-plums on hand, had been 
 furnished by her over-indulgent mother with a 
 large supply of these delicacies ; nor were most 
 of the others without their share ; so that Miss 
 Ashton looked with some dismay upon the 
 treasures which were displayed by one and 
 another, fearing that her little flock might sur- 
 feit themselves with too many sweets before 
 the day was over. 
 
 However, her mind was soon relieved, at 
 least in a measure. For Mabel having doled 
 out a handful of sugar-plums to each of her 
 companions, Bessie Bradford called out as the 
 carriage rolled slowly up a hilly part of the 
 road, — 
 
 " Oh ! see that little girl ; what a nice face 
 she has. But she looks so pale and sorry. I 
 wish I had some pennies for her ; but I will 
 give her some of my sugar-plums. Perhaps 
 she don't have many." 
 
 Poor child ! she looked as if she had not 
 
42 yesste's Parrot. 
 
 many loaves of bread, as she ran by the side 
 of the omnibus, holding up her thin hand. A 
 pale, sorrowful little face it was that looked up 
 into those, so rosy and happy, above it ; pinched, 
 careworn, and old above its years, with that 
 look so often seen in the faces of the children 
 of the poor. Yet, in spite of her extreme 
 poverty, she was not very ragged or very 
 dirty ; and as little Bessie had said, she 
 had "a nice face," an open, straightforward 
 look, a gentle expression, and a clear, honest 
 eye. 
 
 As she saw Bessie's hand outstretched, her 
 face brightened, and as the little girl dropped 
 two or three sugar-plums, she stooped hastily to 
 pick them up ; but when she raised her head 
 again, the old weary look had come back, deep- 
 ened now by disappointment. 
 
 Just then the driver whipped up his horses 
 and the omnibus rolled on faster, leaving the 
 child looking sadly after it, and making no 
 attempt to pick up the sugar-plums now thrown 
 out freely by all the little girls. 
 
An Excursion. 43 
 
 " Wliy ! she looks as if she didn't like 
 sugar-plums," said Belle. 
 
 " Impossible ! " said Maggie. " There never 
 could be a person so wanting in sense as not 
 to like sugar-plums." 
 
 " Maybe that man who lived in a tub did 
 not," said Lily. " Maggie, I was very much 
 interested in that man when you wrote to me 
 about him, and I meant to ask you a little 
 more about him, but I did not think he could 
 be a whe man. What was his name ? " 
 
 " Mr. Diogenes," said Maggie ; " and the 
 reason they called the old cross-patch a wise 
 man was because wise men were very scarce 
 in those days. They only had seven in all 
 that country ; but when you are as far as I am 
 in Parley's History you will learn all about 
 them." 
 
 " I wonder what did make that little girl 
 look so sorry," said Bessie, unable to forget 
 the look of disappointment so plainly visible 
 on the child's face. 
 
 " I think, darling," said Miss Ashton, " that 
 
44 Jessie^s Parrot. 
 
 she expected pennies when she saw you were 
 about to throw something out, and so was not 
 satisfied with the candies. There was some- 
 thing interesting and sweet in her face." 
 
 " Here are some more poor children," said 
 Bessie ; " let's drop some sugar-plums to them 
 and see if they care about them." 
 
 There could be no doubt as to the approba- 
 tion of these new recipients of the bounty of 
 our little friends. At first it w^as difficult to 
 tell whether the pleasure was most enjoyed by 
 those within the omnibus who scattered with 
 liberal hand, or by the outsiders who gathered 
 the harvest; but as the enthusiasm of these 
 last drew new claimants, and all waxed more 
 and more clamorous, it soon became an annoy- 
 ance, and Miss Ashton was obliged to put a 
 stop to the shower, which had already received 
 a check, as some of the younger children were 
 becoming frightened. 
 
 But Patrick and the driver were forced to 
 threaten the obstreperous crowd, and even to 
 call for the aid of a policeman before they 
 
An Excursio7i» 45 
 
 could be scattered, so that this diversion did 
 not end so agreeably. 
 
 There was one thing gained, however, in 
 Miss Ashton's opinion ; and this was that the 
 greater part of the sugar-plums had been dis- 
 posed of, without hurt to her young charge. 
 
 Not that she objected to sugar-plums alto- 
 gether. Do not think, my little readers, that 
 she was, as Maggie would have said, so " want- 
 ing in sense," as that ; but she had been rather 
 appalled by the sight of the numerous tempt- 
 ing looking parcels that were produced, to say 
 nothing of Mabel's over-abundant supply. 
 
 Our gay party made the round of the park, 
 stopping for a while at any place of interest, 
 and now and then alighting if they were 
 so inclined. They hung for some time 
 about the paddock where the deer are kept, 
 putting their little hands through the palings 
 and trying to tempt the pretty, gentle creatures 
 to come nearer. But the deer were not to be 
 persuaded, and although they watched the 
 children with their mild, soft eyes in a very 
 
46 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 amiable manner, they held aloof and would 
 not condescend to a closer acquaintance. 
 
 The swans were less timid, and, as the chil- 
 dren flocked down to the border of the lake 
 with their hands full of crackers and bread, 
 came swimming up, arching their graceful 
 necks, and looking eagerly for the bits with 
 which they were speedily treated. It was 
 enchanting to see them so friendly, and to 
 have them feed from one's very hand. 
 
 The old gray arsenal, with its collection of 
 wild animals, was not to be visited until after 
 they had taken their lunch. As they passed 
 the Casino on their way up through the park, 
 Patrick had been left there to make all ready 
 for them; and now they drove back and 
 alighted. Pleasant and mild though the day 
 was, the ground was still too cold and tlw air 
 too fresh to permit of lunching out of doors ; 
 and, although the children entreated that they 
 might be permitted to do so. Miss Ashton was 
 too wise to yield. 
 
 The lunch was not quite ready when they 
 
An Excursion, 47 
 
 reached the Casino, and the children were 
 permitted to wander around and amuse them- 
 selves as they pleased for a few moments, pro- 
 vided they did not lose sight of the house, or 
 go beyond call. 
 
 Bessie, Lily, and Belle had strolled a short 
 distance away together, and had disappeared 
 from the view of Maggie, Nellie, and Dora, wlio 
 stood at the head of a short flight of stone 
 steps leading up to the Casino. They had but 
 gone around the other side of the hedge, how- 
 ever, and could not be far off. 
 
 Suddenly Lily and Belle came flying back 
 with frightened faces, and rushed breathless 
 and panting to where the other children stood. 
 Then Belle turned, and exclaimed, — 
 " Where's Bessie ? Didn't Bessie come ? " 
 No Bessie was to be seen, certainly ; and 
 Maggie, noticing the startled faces of the other 
 children, took alarm at once for her little sla- 
 ter, and started forward, crying, — 
 
 " Where is she ? What has happened ? 
 Where's my Bessie ? " 
 
48 Jessie^ s Parrot. 
 
 Before Belle or Lily could speak, Hattie 
 darted from behind the hedge, laughing and 
 mischievous ; and, pointing her finger at the 
 crimson faces of the two little ones, cried 
 triumphantly, — 
 
 " Oh ! didn't I take you in ? Didn't I give 
 you a fright, though ? " 
 
 " What is it ? Where's Bessie ? " said Mag- 
 gie again. 
 
 Hattie sat down upon the lower step, and 
 doubling herself over and rocking back and 
 forth, said between paroxysms of laughter, — 
 
 '' Oh, dear ! Bessie is round there talking to 
 the old fellow. She's all right. Didn't I play 
 you two geese a nice trick, though ? How you 
 did run ! I didn't think you could be so taken 
 in. Oh, what fun!" 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Lily, indignation taking 
 the place of her alarm, " were you tricking 
 us ? Didn't he try to take your hair ? Hattie, 
 Hattie ! you mean, mean girl ! And you told 
 us a real wicked story, too. How dare you do 
 it ? " And Lily stamped her foot at Hattie, in 
 
An Excursion. 49 
 
 a real passion at the trick which had been 
 played upon her. 
 
 The effect was different upon Belle. She 
 was a sensitive little thing, easily overcome 
 by any undue excitement ; and, throwing her- 
 self upon Maggie, she burst into a violent fit 
 of sobbing and crying. 
 
 Miss Ashton and her friends heard and came 
 to inquire into the trouble ; and Hattie was 
 now rather frightened herself as she saw the 
 effect of her foolish deceit. 
 
 Lily indignantly told the story, which 
 amounted to this. It was a well-known fact, 
 and had unfortunately come to the ears of our 
 little girls, that some man had lately attacked 
 several children, and suddenly severed the hair 
 from their heads, making off as fast as possi- 
 ble after he had done so. He did this for the 
 sake of the hair, which he probably sold ; but 
 he was, of course, a bad man and a thief, and 
 the children all felt much dread of him. 
 
 So when Hattie had come flying up to Bessie, 
 Belle, and Lily, without any hat, and seem- 
 4 
 
50 yessie's Parrot, 
 
 ingly in a state of the wildest excitement, and 
 had told them, with every appearance of truth 
 and of being herself excessively frightened, 
 that " that old man there'' had snatched off 
 her hat and tried to cut her hair, they had 
 readily believed her — as an old man was 
 really there — and had turned about and run 
 away in great alarm. They had been terrified 
 half out of their senses ; and now here was 
 Hattie confessing — yes, glorying, till Miss 
 Ashton came — that she had " tricked " them, 
 that she was " only in fun," it was all '' a 
 joke." 
 
 But her triumph was speedily brought to an 
 end, when Miss Ashton saw Belle's state, and 
 heard how it had been brought about. She 
 sternly reprimanded Hattie, and bade her go 
 into the house, and remain there. 
 
 But where was Bessie ? 
 
 The other children declared that " an old 
 man was really there ;" and, in spite of Hattie's 
 confession that she had only been joking, 
 Maggie's mind was filled with visions of her 
 
An Excursion, 51 
 
 little sister's sunny curls in the hands of a 
 ruffian ; and away she flew in search of her, 
 quite regardless of any supposed risk to her 
 own wealth of dark, waving ringlets. 
 
III. 
 
 JESSIE AND HER GRANDFATHER. 
 
 HERE was Bessie? 
 
 When Lily and Belle turned to run 
 from the figure which Hattie pointed 
 out as that of the man who attacked her, she 
 started with them, quite as much alarmed as 
 the other two ; and, if they thought about it 
 at all, they imagined she was close behind them. 
 But she had gone only a few steps when she 
 heard a voice, a weak voice, calling after her- 
 self and her companions, and saying, — 
 
 " Don't be afraid, little girls ; don't run away, 
 little ladies. Couldn't ye stop a minute to 
 help an old man ? " 
 
Jessie and her Grandfather, 53 
 
 Something in the tones touched the tender 
 little lieart of Bessie ; and she checked her 
 steps, ready to start again, however, on the 
 shortest notice, and looked back at the old 
 man. 
 
 A very old man he seemed, and a very 
 feeble old man, scarcely able, if he had the 
 will, to run after active little girls, or to do 
 them any harm. His hair was very white, 
 and his face pinclied and thin ; but he looked 
 kind and gentle, as Bessie saw, even from the 
 distance at which she stood ; and her fears 
 died away as she looked at him. 
 
 The old man sat upon a bank ; and Bessie 
 stood hesitating and watching him, trying to 
 make up her mind to go and ask if he was in 
 trouble. She saw that he had dropped his 
 stick, which had rolled away, and lay on the 
 ground just beyond his reach. 
 
 " Would you do an old man a kindness, and 
 give him his stick, little Miss?" he called to 
 her, pointing at the same time to the cane. 
 '■'- Why did ye all run that way ? I t-ouldn't 
 
54 yessie's Parrot. 
 
 hurt a hair of your heads, more than I would 
 of my own Jessie's." 
 
 This reference to the ^' hair on their heads" 
 was rather unfortunate, for it startled Bessie 
 again, and brought back the cause for alarm. 
 Was the old man really in trouble, and unable 
 to reach his stick ? she thought, or was this 
 only a trap to catch her, and deprive her of 
 her curls? 
 
 So she stood still, hesitating ; and the old 
 man, as if in despair of receiving any help from 
 her, tried to raise himself a little, and stretched 
 out his trembling hand towards the stick. But 
 it was useless; it lay too far; he could not 
 rise without its aid, and he sank back again, 
 looking more helpless and feeble than before. 
 This was too much for Bessie. She could not 
 bear to see suffering and not try to relieve it ; 
 and it seemed to her that it would be cruel and 
 wicked not to lend a helping hand to this poor 
 old creature. 
 * " Please, dear Father in heaven, not to let 
 him \\mK mCj" ^Ije whispered softly to herself; 
 
Jessie and her Grandfather, 55 
 
 and then walked slowly towards the old man, 
 her little heart beating painfully, it must be 
 confessed, in spite of her petition, and the 
 trust that it would be heard. 
 
 Keeping at as great a distance as it would 
 allow, she stooped for the stick, and held it out 
 at arm's length to the owner. 
 
 " Now may He that blesses the cup of cold 
 water given in His name reward you," said the 
 old man, as he took it from the timid little 
 hand ; *' but why are you frightened at me, 
 dear, and why did the otiier little ones run as 
 if they were scared half out of their lives ? 
 When you passed all in the big stage, laughing 
 and so gay, it put a warmth into my heart 
 that hasn't been there for many a day, and I 
 b'lieve it was your own loving, little face that 
 smiled back at me as I waved my hat to 
 you for a blessing on your joy. Wliy, I 
 wouldn't hurt a living thing ; least of all, little 
 girls that always mind me of my Jessie. 
 Though it's different enough that you are from 
 her, my poor lamb," he added in a loT^er tone, 
 
56 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 which Bessie could not have heard had she not 
 DOW drawn nearer to him. 
 
 For with the first words of the old man's 
 speech, all fear had vanished from her mind. 
 He had called down a blessing on her in a 
 name which she knew and loved, and she 
 could not be afraid of him longer. Besides, 
 now that she looked at him more closely and 
 with unprejudiced ejes, she recognized him, 
 and remembered how, as he said, when the 
 stage had passed him with its merry load, he 
 had taken off his hat and feebly cheered and 
 waved to them as they went by. 
 
 " Don't you try to cut off little girls' hair ? " 
 she could not help asking, in spite of her 
 new confidence. 
 
 " I ? " answered the old man surprised ; " and 
 why would 1 do that ? Ah ! I see. Did you 
 take me for that fellow ? My little lady, they 
 have him fast in jail, as he deserves \ but how did 
 you ever think I would do a thing like that ? " 
 
 " A little girl said you tried to cut hers," 
 answered the child. 
 
Jessie and her Grandfather. 57 
 
 " Then that little girl slandered an old man 
 who had never harmed her," he said gravely. 
 " I understand ; she's frightened you for her 
 own fun, or whatever it may be. Well, I'm 
 up now," — he had slowly and painfully raised 
 himself by the help of his cane, — "and I'd 
 better be moving away, or the sight of me 
 after that may spoil your pleasure. It was liard 
 in her to turn you against one who would never 
 have harmed you ; but you're a sensible little 
 lady, and a kind, and you'll never be the worse 
 for doing a good turn to an old man." 
 
 " Don't go away," said Bessie, " the other 
 children won't be afraid of you when I tell 
 them .Hattie — was — was — mistaken." Bes- 
 sie feared that Hattie's tale was more than a 
 mistake, but she would not accuse her until 
 she was sure. " They won't want you to go 
 away, poor, lame man." 
 
 " Jessie stays so long," he answered, look- 
 ing about him helplessly. " She sat me here 
 to rest a while, and I think she can't know 
 how long she's been gone." 
 
58 yessze's Pa7'rot. 
 
 Before Bessie could speak again, around the 
 hedge came Maggie, who stopped short in 
 amazement at seeing her sister standing talk- 
 ing sociably to the dreaded old man. And 
 with her curls all safe ! 
 
 Maggie could hardly believe her own eyes. 
 She went forward more slowly, till Bessie 
 called to her, — 
 
 " Maggie, dear ! this old man wouldn't 
 hurt us, or cut our hair for anj^ thing. He 
 likes little girls, and it made him feel badly 
 because we ran away from him, and he is going 
 away now 'cause he thinks we don't like him. 
 Come and tell him not to." 
 
 Timid Maggie, feeling very doubtful, but 
 determined to share her sister's risk, whatever 
 that might be — she had almost forgotten that 
 Hattie had confessed she only wanted to trick 
 them all — drew still nearer, and taking 
 Bessie's hand, gazed up at the old man with 
 eyes in which pity and sympathy began to 
 struggle with lier former fear. He looked so 
 poor and feeble and helpless, so little like 
 doing liarm to any one. 
 
Jessie and her Grandfather, 59 
 
 And now came Dora and Grade, who had 
 followed Maggie in search of Bessie ; and as 
 the little group gathered about the old man, 
 Bessie said, — 
 
 " Where is your Jessie ? Can we call her to 
 you ? " 
 
 " I can't tell, little Miss," he answered. 
 " I've been sitting here more tlian an hour, I 
 take it. Jessie was so eager about her parrot 
 that she has maybe forgotten how long she's 
 been away. Ah ! there she comes now." 
 
 As he spoke, a child came running towards 
 them, but seeing tlie group about her grand- 
 father, paused in amazement at a short distance. 
 
 It was the very same little girl to whom 
 they had thrown sugar-plums but ai;i hour 
 since, and who had looked so disappointed. 
 The children recognized her immediately. 
 
 " Why ! that's the little girl who was not 
 pleased with our sugar-plums," said Bessie. 
 " Is that youi Jessie ? " 
 
 The old man beckoned to her, and she came 
 forward. 
 
6o Jessicas Parrot. 
 
 '' Tins is my Jessie, Miss," he answered, 
 " and a good girl she is too. I don't know 
 what her old grandfather wonld do without 
 her. She's given up the dearest thing she had 
 for me, bless her ! " 
 
 Jessie was now standing beside her grand- 
 father, blushing and hanging her head at the 
 notice thus drawn upon her. 
 
 " What was that ? " asked Dora. 
 
 " Her parrot. Miss. A splendid parrot that 
 her father, who's now dead and gone, brought 
 her from beyond the seas. You'd think he 
 was a human creature 'most, to hear him talk, 
 and she loved him next to her old grandfather , 
 but she parted with him for my sake." 
 
 " Didn't you like him ? " asked Bessie. 
 
 " Yes, indeed. Miss. I was 'most as fond of 
 the bird as she was herself ; but it wasn't to be 
 helped. You see I was sick so long, and the 
 doctor bid me take ^ medicine that cost a 
 deal of money, to drive the pain out of my 
 bones ; and how were we to get it when we'd 
 not enough to buy bread from day to day, or 
 
Jessie and her Grandfather, 6i 
 
 to pay the rent that was due ? So she sold hei' 
 bird, for I can't do a hand's turn of work just 
 
 yet." 
 
 " That was good of her," said Gracie ; " did 
 she get all the money she wanted for him ? " 
 
 " ^tore than we expected, Miss, for the man 
 that keeps the house here," pointing to the 
 Casino, " gave her ten dollars for him. And 
 he lets her see him every day, and says when 
 the summer is over she may have him back 
 for eight dollars if she can raise it. For Poll 
 draws people to the refreshment place, you 
 see, with his funny ways, and his wonderful 
 talk, and the keeper thinks he'll get two dol- 
 lars worth out of him before the summer is 
 over. Bat, Jessie '11 never raise all that 
 money, though I have put by my pride, and let 
 her ask charity here of the folks in the Park." 
 
 " And I don't feel that I ought to take it for 
 that, either," said Jessie, as soon as the talka- 
 tive old man paused for breath, and let her have 
 a chance to speak, " 'cause grandfather needs so 
 many things, and the rent will be falling due 
 
62 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 before long again, so I must save up for straws 
 and ribbon." 
 
 " For what ? " asked Bessie, while at the 
 same moment Dora said, — 
 
 '' Why don't you find some work and earn 
 money that way ? " 
 
 " For straws and ribbon, Miss," said Jessie, 
 answering Bessie's question first ; then turning 
 to Dora, she added, — 
 
 *' I would work. Miss, and I do, when I have 
 the things. I make little baskets and catch- 
 alls, and allumette holders of ribbon and straw 
 and beads, and I sell them wherever I can ; 
 but the stock was all gone long ago, and I've 
 no more to begin on." 
 
 " But," said Dora, '' if people give you 
 money, why don't you take that to buy your 
 materials ? " 
 
 Jessie shook her head sadly. 
 
 '' It has taken every cent that's been given 
 to me to buy just bread enough for me and 
 grandfather to eat. Miss," she said ; " there 
 was nothing to spare for any thing else, and any 
 
Jessie and her Grandfather. 6'}^ 
 
 way it is an uncertain thing, the selling of the 
 baskets, till the weather is pleasant and warm, 
 and people like to stop. Now, you see, is the 
 time for me to be making them ready ; but 
 tliere's no use in thinking about it, and as for 
 Poll," — 
 
 Jessie's sigh and filling eyes told of the 
 despair with which she thought of the recovery 
 of her pet. 
 
 " I have some money in my charity-box at 
 home," said Maggie eagerly ; " I'll give you 
 some to buy straws and ribbon. I have no 
 money with me, but Miss Asliton will lend me 
 some for such a good purpose, I know, and I'll 
 pay her as soon as we go home. I'll run and 
 ask her." 
 
 But there was no need, for there was 
 Miss Ashton come in search of her stray lambs, 
 and in two minutes she had heard the story. 
 
 Heard it, but scarcely understood it, for that 
 was difficult with one and another putting in a 
 word, patching it out in various bits ; to say 
 nothing of the circumstance that our little 
 
64 yessie's Parrot. 
 
 girls themselves scarcely understood what they 
 were talking about. 
 
 Jessie and her grandfather — who had noth- 
 ing to say now that the lady had come, and who 
 stood close to one another, the old man holding 
 his hat in his hand and leaning on his stick — 
 were somewhat confused themselves by the chat- 
 ter and flutter of the eager little talkers ; and 
 when Miss Ashton turned to the latter and 
 began to inquire into his story, his usual flow 
 of words seemed to have failed him. 
 
 Miss Ashton spoke to Jessie. 
 
 " G-randfather was just telling the little 
 ladies about my Polly, ma'am," she said 
 7nodestly. " If they'd like to see him he's in 
 the house there. And if you'd like to have 
 him show off he'll talk better for me than for 
 any one else, and I'll go and coax him." 
 
 " Oh ! can we go and see him ? " said Bessie ; 
 and Jessie once more sapng, yes, and that she 
 would go with them, the little girls ran off, 
 while Miss Ashton remained to hear the old 
 man's story. 
 
Jessie and her Grandfather, 65 
 
 It was a sad, but by no means an uncommon 
 one. Jessie's mother had died when she was 
 a baby. Her father, who was mate on a sail- 
 ing-vessel, had been drowned at sea about twD 
 years ago. Until his death, his wages, 
 together with what the old man made at stone- 
 cutting, had supported them all in comfort. 
 And even after that, the grandfather and the 
 child had continued to keep along on what the 
 former earned. Jessie, who was twelve years 
 old, had been to school pretty steadily till a 
 year ago, could " read and write and do up 
 sums," and had also learned to sew. 
 
 But about that time the grandfather had 
 taken a heavy cold, from being thoroughly wet 
 with rain while at his work ; and, neglecting to 
 change his clothes, it had settled in all his 
 joints, and a long and painful rheumatic illness 
 followed. All the last summer he had lain 
 bound hand and foot, the pretty trifles which 
 Jessie had learned to make the sole, support 
 * of the two. But with the winter the sale of her 
 little wares had fallen off, poverty and suffering 
 6 
 
66 yessie's Parrot. 
 
 had increased upon them, and they had gone 
 from had to worse, till, as he had told the little 
 girls, Jessie had been forced to sell her beloved 
 parrot to keep a roof above their heads, and 
 to buy the medicine so much needed for hei 
 grandfather. They had some help from the 
 church at which they attended, but that was 
 little. And now tliat it was warmer weather, 
 and Jessie could begin to sell her wares, she 
 had no money to buy materials, and he had 
 consented that she should ask charity of 
 passers-by, and so gain a few shillings to begin 
 her trade. 
 
 They lived over there in a sad, tumble-down 
 place, the old man said, " and he never thought 
 to bring his Jessie to that ; but the Lord had 
 His own ways, and when He saw fit. He could 
 take them out of this trouble." 
 
 The story was told with a straightforward 
 simplicity, and a natural pathos whicli went 
 far to convince Miss Ashton that it must be 
 true ; but she took down the name and address 
 of the clergyman of whom the old man spoke. 
 
Jessie and her Grandfather, 67 
 
 This gentleman lived in one of the streets 
 bordering on the Park, and Miss Ashton re- 
 solved to see him and hear his report before 
 she left for home. If these poor people were 
 really in such need, and deserving of help, she 
 could not let them suffer longer than was nec- 
 essary. 
 
 She told old Malcolm — for that he said was 
 his name — that he did not do well to rest 
 upon the bank. The ground, she said, was not 
 yet warm enough for his aching bones. 
 
 But he answered that it was far better than 
 the damp, cold shanty where he and Jessie had 
 lived for the last two months, for here on a 
 bright day he had the sunshine, and the fresh, 
 clear air, and little of either of these ever 
 found their way into the miserable cabin. 
 
 Malcolm's language and manner, as well as 
 those of his grand-daughter, showed that he 
 had indeed been used to " better days ; " and 
 he seemed so patient and uncomplaining that 
 Miss Ashton felt much interested in him, 
 and anxious to do something for his relief 
 
68 yessiVs Parrot, 
 
 She bade him come farther on, and find a 
 seat upon a pleasant, sunny bench, where she 
 would furnish him and Jessie with some food ; 
 but when she said this, he told her some of the 
 little ones of her party were afraid of him, 
 and he did not wish to trouble them. 
 
 He looked troubled himself when he said 
 this ; and Miss Ashton had to tell him that 
 one of her young scholars had been so foolish 
 and wrong as to tell a falsehood — she could 
 call it nothing less — to frighten the others ; 
 but that they all knew the truth now, and would 
 be afraid of him no longer. 
 
 '"^^^ 
 
lY. 
 
 TEE PARROT. 
 
 lEANWHILE the children were amus- 
 ing themselves with the parrot. The 
 whole flock had followed Jessie to 
 make his acquaintance, Maggie having called 
 the others to join them ; and even the still sob- 
 bing Belle forgot her troubles in this new 
 object of interest. 
 
 The bird proved to be in a most amiable 
 and sociable humor ; and, to the great delight 
 of his former little mistress, exhibited himself 
 in a most gratifying manner. 
 
 His cage was placed before a little stand 
 just outside of a window opening upon the 
 
70 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 verandah ; and when the children first saw 
 him he was swinging head downwards from 
 one of the bars, hanging by one claw, and ap- 
 pearing to take no notice of any thing until 
 Jessie called to him. 
 
 Then he put out the other claw, and swung 
 himself upright ; immediately commencing a 
 kind of dance upon his perch, as if in an 
 ecstacy, and calling out, — 
 
 "Jessie! Jessie! pretty Jessie, good Jessie." 
 
 " Good Polly," said Jessie, while the chil- 
 dren gathered around in great delight. " How 
 are you, Polly ? " 
 
 " Polly pretty well; Polly all right," answered 
 the bird. 
 
 The little girls were astonished, as indeed 
 were the ladies who had accompanied them. 
 Not one among the group but had often seen 
 parrots who would repeat certain set phrases, 
 but this bird actually answered questions, and 
 as if he understood them too. 
 
 " What does Polly want ? " asked Jessie, de- 
 lighted at the sensation her pet was producing. 
 
The Parrot, 71 
 
 " Polly want a bit of sugar," answered the 
 bird. 
 
 Jessie put her hand into her pocket, and 
 produced one of the sugar-plums the children 
 had thrown to her, and held it up before the 
 parrot's greedy eyes. 
 
 " Dance a jig then, and sing a song, Polly," 
 she said. 
 
 Polly forthwith commenced a kind of see- 
 saw on his perch, swaying his body back and 
 forth, balancing himself first on one foot, then 
 on the other, in a measured sort of way which 
 he probably supposed to be dancing. At any 
 rate, his audience were contented to accept it 
 as such, and he met with continued applause, 
 until suddenly bringing his gyrations to 
 a close he screamed in a loud, discordant 
 voice, — 
 
 "Sugar!" 
 
 " Sing then," said Jessie. 
 
 In a sharp, cracked, but very distinct voice, 
 and with some resemblance to a tune, the par- 
 rot began, — 
 
72 yesste's Parrot, 
 
 " Mary had a little lamb, 
 
 Its fleece was white as snow, 
 And everywhere that " — 
 
 Here he came to an abrupt close, eying the 
 sugar-plum wistfully. 
 
 '' Sing it," said Jessie ; and he began again. 
 
 " Mary had a little lamb, 
 
 Its fleece was white as snow, 
 And everywhere that Mary went. 
 
 The lamb — sugar — sugar — sugar,'* 
 
 screamed the creature, amid peals of laughter 
 from the children, who now begged that he 
 might have the coveted reward, which Jessie 
 accordingly gave him. 
 
 " He knows it all," she said ; " but I can 
 hardly ever make him sing it through." 
 
 Poll took the sugar-plum gingerly in one 
 claw, and sat nibbling at it till it was all gone, 
 while the children crowded around him, ad- 
 miring his gay, bright-colored feathers, and 
 expressing their wonder at his accomplishments 
 and sense. 
 
 " Now you must show off some more," 
 said Jessie, when the bird had disposed of 
 
The Parrot, 73 
 
 his feast. "Polly, where is the naughty 
 child ? " 
 
 To the intense delight of the children. Poll 
 began to scream and cry exactly like a passion- 
 ate child, after which he laup,'hed and chuckled 
 with satisfaction at his own performances, 
 then crowed like a rooster, baa-ed like a nanny- 
 goat, barked like a dog, and mewed like a cat. 
 After all this he took up intelligent conversa- 
 tion again. 
 
 " Polly's a pr-r-r-etty bird ; Polly's a good 
 bird ; Polly's a wise bird," he screamed, in all 
 of which his little hearers entirely agreed. 
 
 " Who do you love, Polly ? " asked Jessie. 
 
 " Polly love Jessie ; Jessie a good girl," was 
 the answer. 
 
 " Where's your master, Polly ? " 
 
 " Bob Malcolm gone to sea. Good-bye, 
 good-bye, good-bye," screamed the parrot. 
 
 " Sing a song of" — began Jessie, and the 
 parrot took up the strain. 
 
 " Sing a song of sixpence, 
 A pocket full of rye " — 
 
74 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 Here lie came to a stop, nor could lie be 
 coaxed to finish the couplet, though Jessie 
 assured the audience that he could, if he chose, 
 sing the first four lines of the old song all 
 through. 
 
 However, he condescended to repeat some 
 0. his former performances. But it would 
 take too long to tell all the feats of this remark- 
 able bird ; and you must not think that these 
 I have related are quite impossible, for I have 
 seen a parrot who could do all that is here 
 described, and more too. The children were 
 so interested and amused that they could 
 scarcely be persuaded to leave him when 
 Patrick announced that their lunch was ready ; 
 and Jessie, who was bidden by Miss Asliton to 
 join her grandfather and share the meal pro 
 vided for him, was begged to keep within call, 
 so that they might return to the entertainment 
 when they had finished their lunch. 
 
 While this was going on. Miss Ashton told 
 the story she had heard from old Malcolm, and 
 said that she was so much interested in him 
 
The Parrot. 75 
 
 and his grandcliild, that she would go after 
 hmch and see the clergyman, while the little 
 girls amused themselves for a while under the 
 care of the other ladies. She carried out this 
 purpose, and went on her kind errand, followed 
 by many a hope that she would find the story 
 all correct. 
 
 But when the children went back to the 
 parrot they were disappointed, for he proved 
 cross or tired or in a less sociable mood than 
 he had been before, and he very rudely turned 
 his back upon them, and would utter no words 
 save, — 
 
 " Hold your tongue ! Hold your tongue ! " 
 every time any one spoke to him. So, finding 
 this neither polite nor amusing, the company 
 left him and scattered themselves in search of 
 other entertainment. 
 
 " How sober you look, Maggie ; what are 
 you thinking about ? " asked Hattie Leroy, 
 coming up to where Maggie Bradford stood 
 leaning upon a stone railing. 
 
 Maggie looked thoughtful, it may be, but 
 
76 Jessie^ s Parrot. 
 
 hardly sober, for her thoughts seemed pleasant 
 ones, to judge by the light m her eye, and the 
 half smile upon her lip. 
 
 " I have an idea," said Maggie, " and I 
 think it's a nice one, at least if we are allowed 
 to do it." 
 
 " Wliat is it ? " asked Hattie. 
 
 " "Well," said Maggie, " I don't care to have 
 it talked about very much till we know if we 
 can do it ; but I was thinking it would be so 
 nice if we could have a little fair, just our 
 selves, you know, the school-children and 
 Bessie and me. I know some children who 
 had a fair in their own house, and they made 
 money enough to pay for a bed in St. Luke's 
 Hospital for a poor, lame child ; and I thought 
 perhaps we could make enough to buy back 
 Jessie's parrot for her ; and to make a more 
 comfortable home for them. TVe could make 
 things for the fair, and ask our friends to help 
 us. Mamma would make some for us, I know, 
 and so will Aunt Annie, and, I think, Aunt 
 Bessie and Aunt May." 
 
The Parrot, 77 
 
 " Where could we have it ? " asked Hattie, 
 who seemed much interested. 
 
 " In one of our own houses," said Maggie, "or, 
 — that was another thought I had, — perhaps 
 Miss Ashton would be so very good as to let us 
 have it at her house. The piazza would be 
 lovely for it ; and she generally lets us have 
 some party -ish kind of a thing when school 
 breaks up. Last year we had a giving of 
 prizes ; and at Christmas we had a Christmas 
 festival, and a queen both times." 
 
 " Yes," said Hattie, '' and Gracie said it was 
 shameful that you were queen both times. 
 She thinks it was very selfish in you." 
 
 Maggie colored violently. 
 
 " The queen was chosen," she said, " and the 
 girls chose me. I did not make myself queen." 
 
 " Well, Gracie did not like it one bit," said 
 Hattie, " and she thinks you had no right to be 
 queen when you did not go to the school the 
 last time." 
 
 Maggie was silent, but the gladness was 
 gone from her face. 
 
78 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 " Wouldn't it be too cold to have the fan- on 
 the piazza ? " asked Hattie. 
 
 '' Not by the time we are ready," said Mag- 
 gie. " You know it will take a good while to 
 make enough things, and Miss Ash ton does 
 not close the school till the first of June. I 
 heard her tell mamma so the other day. And 
 by that time it will be quite warm and plea- 
 sant, and there will be plenty of flowers. I 
 was thinking we could dress the piazza with 
 wreaths and festoons and flags ; and we could 
 make some kind of a throne and canopy at one 
 end. And there we could have the flower-table 
 and the queen behind it, with some maids of 
 honor to sell flowers." 
 
 If Maggie imagined that Hattie would 
 express any admiration or approval of her 
 plan, she was mistaken. Hattie seemed inter- 
 ested, and asked a great many questions, as to 
 how Maggie would arrange such and such 
 matters, but she did not act as if she thought 
 the " idea" very fine after all, and this was 
 rather different from the way in which Maggie 
 
The Parrot. 79 
 
 was accustomed to have her plans received. 
 But she did not care for that ; she was not a 
 vain child, constantly seeking for admiration, 
 and she was too full of her subject to pay much 
 heed to Hattie's cool way of hearing this 
 one. 
 
 ^* I'm not going to say much about it till I 
 see if mamma approves," she said. " Then 
 I'll ask Miss Ashton and tell all the children 
 about it. There are Bessie and Lily beckoning 
 to me ; let us go and see what they want." 
 
 And away she ran, intending to tell her 
 sister and Belle and Lily of her plan on the 
 first convenient opportunity ; but not willing, 
 as she had said, to make it public till she 
 learned if it could be carried out. She did 
 not yet feel as if she knew Hattie very well, 
 and she was rather astonished at herself for 
 having talked so freely to her ; but the truth 
 was, that Hattie had come upon her rather un- 
 awares, and asked her what she was thinking 
 of, at the moment when she was turning her 
 " idea" over in her mind, and she had told hor 
 
8o Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 almost without reflection. Still she did not 
 exactly regret having done so, and, after what 
 she had said, never supposed that Hattie would 
 mention what she had told her. 
 
 Upright, honorable Maggie judged others by 
 herself, and was entirely unsuspicious of evil. 
 
 It would take too much space in this little 
 book, and you would not care to have a 
 particular description of all the various points 
 of interest visited by our party throughout 
 the day, — the Arsenal with its collection of 
 wild beasts and monkeys ; the great reservoir 
 with its blue water, looking like a lake within 
 ^alls, as indeed it is ; the lovely Ramble 
 through which they wandered for a long time, 
 and many another pleasant spot. They are all 
 familiar to many of you, and those to whom 
 they are not, may make acquaintance with 
 them some day. 
 
 You may be sure that Miss Ashton did not 
 leave old Malcolm and his grand-daughter 
 without some remembrance of this day, for she 
 was not only very sorry for them and felt that 
 
The Parrot. 8i 
 
 they were really in need of assistance, but she 
 also knew that Jessie and her wonderful bird 
 had added much to the entertainment of hei 
 little flock. She gave Jessie money enough to 
 furnish herself with materials to begin her little 
 trade again, and, leaving her address with her, 
 bade her bring some of her pretty toys to her 
 house when they should be made. 
 
 They were all in the omnibus once more, 
 and had started on their homeward way, all 
 rather tired and quiet with the day's ramble, 
 when what was Maggie's astonishment to hear 
 Hattie say, — 
 
 " Miss Ashton, Maggie and I have such a 
 very nice plan. We thought we might have a 
 fair, just us children, and ask our friends to 
 help us ; and then we could sell the things we 
 made, or that were given to us, and so earn a 
 good deal of money to help Jessie and her 
 grandfather, and to buy back the parrot for 
 her. And we might have it when the weather 
 is warm and pleasant, just before school closes, 
 so that we could have it out of doors ; and 
 
82 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 perhaps, Miss Asliton, you would not mind 
 letting us hold it on your piazza and in the 
 garden. And Jessie might make some of her 
 pretty baskets and things for it, and we could 
 sell them for her. We thought we could raise 
 a good deal of money that way, for almost all 
 our friends would be glad to come." 
 
 It would be hard to tell whether indignation 
 or surprise was uppermost in Maggie's mind, 
 as she sat utterly speechless and confounded, 
 while Hattie ran on thus, disclosing in this 
 public manner the plans which she had said 
 were to be kept secret until her own mamma 
 and Miss Ashton had heard and approved of 
 them. 
 
 Yes, here was Hattie not only doing this, 
 but speaking as if she had been the inventor 
 of the cherished " idea," and as if Maggie had 
 only fallen in with it, perhaps helped it out a 
 little. 
 
 Maggie was too shy to speak out as many 
 children would have done, and to say, — 
 
 " That was my plan, Miss Ashton. I was 
 
The Parrot, 83 
 
 • 
 the first one to think of that ; " and she 
 
 sat with her color changing, and her eyes fixed 
 
 wonder ingly and reproachfully on Hattie as 
 
 she spoke, feeling somehow as if she had been 
 
 wronged, and yet not exactly seeing the way 
 
 to right herself. 
 
 '' Oh ! that would be delightful," said Gracie. 
 *' Miss Ashton, do you think you could let us 
 do it ? " 
 
 " Well, I might," said Miss Ashton. " That 
 is not a bad idea, Hattie. I will talk to my 
 mother about it and see what she thinks, and 
 you may all tell your friends at home, and 
 learn if they approve." 
 
 " If we could have the fair on your piazza," 
 continued Hattie eagerly, " we could dress it 
 up very prettily with wreaths and flowers, and 
 we could make a kind of a bower at one end, and 
 choose one of the girls for a queen, and let it 
 be her throne-room, and there we could have 
 the flower-table. Some of the children told 
 me you always let them have a festival before 
 vacation, Miss Ashton ; and we might put it 
 
84 yesste's Parrot. 
 
 off till a little later, so that it would be warm 
 and pleasant, and we should have plenty of 
 flowers." 
 
 There was not one of the children who did 
 not raise her voice in favor of the new plan 
 except Nellie Ransom, who sat opposite to 
 Maggie, and who watched her changing face, 
 and looked from her to Hattie with inquiring 
 and rather suspicious looks. 
 
 Lily clapped her hands, and almost sprang 
 from her seat. 
 
 ^' I'll begin to work for the fair this very 
 evening ! " she said. " No more of your put- 
 ting off forme. "I'll bring down mamma's 
 ribbon-box and worsted-box, if she'll let me, 
 and ask her what I can have, and to-morrow 
 I'll ask her to let me make something." 
 
 " And we'll ask mamma and Aunt Annie, 
 won't we, Maggie ? " said Bessie ; " and 
 Belle, we'll ask them for some things for you 
 too." 
 
 Bessie received no answer from Maggie, who, 
 feeling as if the whole matter had been taken 
 
The Parrot. 85 
 
 out of lier hands, poor child, and as if she had 
 been robbed of her property, dared not speak, 
 lest she should burst into tears. 
 
 " I have a whole lot of money saved up," 
 said Lily, '' and I'll take some of it to buy 
 what I want to make pretty things, and keep 
 the rest to spend at the fair." 
 
 " Haven't you to pay your missionary money 
 to our box yet ? " asked Bessie. 
 
 '' Well, I haven't paid it yet," said Lily, '' but 
 I don't know if I will give a dollar this year. 
 I've supported the heathen for two years now, 
 and I think I'd like a little change of charity. 
 Wouldn't you, Maggie ? " 
 
 Maggie only nodded assent, scarce knowing 
 what question she was replying to. 
 
 " Maggie," said Belle, " you don't seem 
 very interested ; why don't you talk about 
 the fair and give us new ideas, as you 'most 
 always do ? " 
 
 '-'- Does something provoke you or trouble 
 you, Maggie, dear ? " asked Bessie, looking 
 into her sister's perplexed face. 
 
86 jfessiVs Parrot. 
 
 " Hattie," said Nellie suddenly, fixing lier 
 eyes scarchingly on the little girl slie addressed, 
 " what put that idea of the fair into your 
 head?" 
 
 " Oh ! " answered Hattie in some confusion, 
 "I — that is, we, Maggie and I, just thought 
 it would be nice, and so we talked about it a 
 little, and made up our minds to ask Miss 
 Ashton about it." 
 
 Quick-witted Lily caught Nellie's suspicion, 
 and so did Bessie ; and the former, who had 
 worn an air of displeasure with Hattie ever since 
 the affair of the morning, asked promptly, — 
 
 " Who was the jir%t to make up that idea, — 
 the fair and the queen in the flower bower, 
 and dressing the piazza and all ? Who was it, 
 I say?" 
 
 " Well, " answered Hattie reluctantly, 
 " Maggie was the first to think about it, and 
 we talked it over together and arranged it 
 all." 
 
 ''I knew it I" cried Lily triumphantly ; " I just 
 knew it was Maggie. It sounds just like her 
 
The Parrot. 87 
 
 making up. Hattie," she added reproachfully, 
 " you tried to make us think it was yours." 
 
 " I didn't," said Hattie. " I never said so." 
 
 '-'- You didn't just my so," said Bessie 
 solemnly, " but you tried to give that depres- 
 sion ^ 
 
 " I didn't," pouted Hattie again ; " and we 
 did talk about it together, didn't we, Maggie ? " 
 
 Maggie only gave a faint smile by way of 
 answer, for she felt that she could not honestly 
 allow that Hattie had suggested one single 
 idea ; and still she was too generous to wish 
 to blame her more than she could avoid. 
 
 And for the second time that day was Hattie 
 made to feel tliat her want of strict truthful- 
 ness had lowered her in the eyes of her young 
 companions. 
 
 " Umph ! " said Lily severely ; " appears to 
 me, Miss Hattie " — 
 
 But she was not allowed to finish the intend- 
 ed reproach, for Miss Ashton, seeing symp- 
 toms of a quarrel, hastened to avert it, and 
 gently bade Lily be quiet. 
 
88 Jessie^s Parrot. 
 
 Lily obeyed ; but her eye still rested sternly 
 upon Hattie, and the latter was forced to bear 
 more than one disapproving gaze during the 
 remainder of the drive home. 
 
 " I am afraid," said Miss Ashton to her 
 mother that evening, " that Hattie Leroy is by 
 no means a truthful child ; " and she told of 
 the occurrences of the day, adding that it was 
 not the first time she had noticed a want of 
 openness and uprightness, little acted deceits, 
 a keeping back of the whole truth, and even, 
 now and then a deliberate falsehood ; and 
 more than all, a manner of repeating a thing 
 which gave it a very different meaning from 
 what the speaker intended, so often making 
 mischief and discomfort. 
 
 " That is bad, very bad," said Mrs. Ashton ; 
 " it may affect the other children." 
 
 " I would rather hope that they may have a 
 good influence on her," answered her daughter. 
 " The standard of truth is so high in our 
 school, thanks, I believe, to dear little Bessie 
 Bradford, Maggie, Belle, and one or two others, 
 
The Parrot, 89 
 
 that any departure from it is considered a very 
 serious offence. Lily, with all her thouglitless 
 ness and love of mischief, is strictly truthful ; 
 so are Dora and Nellie. Gracie is the only one 
 for whom I fear, for, although I think she would 
 be shocked at the idea of telling a deliberate 
 untruth, her conceit and wish to be first are so 
 great that they often lead her to exaggerate 
 and give a false coloring to what she says of 
 herself as compared with others." 
 
y. 
 
 GRANDMAMMA HOWARD. 
 
 HE proposal for the fair met with a 
 pretty general approval from the 
 parents and friends of the little girls, 
 and tliey received many promises of help. 
 
 "- Aunt Annie " undertook to show Maggie, 
 Bessie, and Belle how to make any pretty 
 articles they might wish to undertake. Lily's 
 mamma did the same for her, and none of the 
 children were left entirely without assistance. 
 
 "When Jessie came to Miss Ashton with her 
 pretty little wares, she was told what was pro- 
 posed, and bidden to liave as large a supply as 
 possible, so that they might be offered for sale 
 with the other articles ; and the lady and some 
 
Grandmamma Howard » pr 
 
 of her friends kindly bought so many of those 
 already on hand that Jessie was furnished with 
 the means of procuring her materials at once. 
 
 The older class in Mrs. Ash ton's room also 
 entered with spirit into the affair, promising all 
 the assistance that they could give, so that 
 there was good prospect it would be a success. 
 The time fixed was the first day of June, if 
 the weather should be pleasant ; if not, the 
 first fair day after that. 
 
 One morning Gracie Howard came to school 
 in a state of great excitement. 
 
 " My grandmamma," she said to the other 
 children, " takes the greatest interest in our 
 fair, and she is going to give us ever so many 
 things for it. She told me to invite you all to 
 come to her house this afternoon, and she has 
 a whole lot of pieces of silk and ribbons, and 
 worsteds and beads, and ever so many lovely 
 things to divide among us. And what is bet- 
 ter still, she says she would like each child to 
 make some article expressly for her, and she 
 will buy it." 
 
92 Jessie^s Pari'ot. 
 
 " Oh, delightful ! " " How kind ! how nice ! " 
 "What a great help!" came from one and 
 another of her little hearers. 
 
 " And," continued Grade, warming with 
 her subject, "she wants some particular 
 things. Two toilet sets of lace and muslin, 
 one lined and trimmed with blue, the other 
 with pink ; and two mats for flower vases, to be 
 exactly alike. I am going to do one of the 
 mats, and grandmamma says she thinks the 
 other one and both the toilet sets had better 
 be made by some of us older children, because 
 she thinks the little ones can scarcely do them. 
 And she will give ten dollars for the mat that 
 is worked the most nicely and evenly, and 
 nine for the other ; eight for the best toilet set, 
 and se\en for the second; and she will give 
 us all the materials. Just think of that ! 
 Why, whoever has the best mat will earn more 
 than the price of Jessie's parrot ! I wanted 
 grandmamma to say that one might have the 
 buying of the parrot for her own part ; but 
 she said that would not be just to the rest who 
 
Grandmamma Howard. 93 
 
 had a share in the fair ; and that she had no 
 right to say so, either. I don't see why, and 
 1 think she might have let me." 
 
 '' Why, you don't know that you will have 
 the nicest mat," said Lily. 
 
 " See if I don't then," said Gracie. " I can 
 work much better than any of you, I know." . 
 
 " If I didn't live in such a very glass house 
 myself, I'd say petticoat to you," said Lily, 
 who had lately shown a fancy for the use of 
 proverbs, after the manner of Maggie Bradford. 
 
 Gracie tossed her head, and put on the ex- 
 pression which children call, " turning up their 
 noses." 
 
 She knew very well what Lily meant, how 
 not long since she had boasted of herself, and 
 been so very sure that she would outdo all 
 others, and how she had miserably failed in 
 the end. 
 
 But, in spite of this consciousness, she was 
 not at all taken down by Lily's reminder, for 
 she felt herself a person of more than usual 
 consideration and importance that morning; 
 
94 Jessie^s Pa7'rot, 
 
 not without more than ordinary reason, was 
 thought by most of her companions, for it was 
 really a fine thing to have sucli a munificent 
 grandmamma, who was ready to do so much 
 for the grand object at present in the minds 
 of each and every one. 
 
 It was true also, and well known in the 
 school that Gracie did worsted work remark- 
 ably well and evenly for a little girl, and that 
 there was more reason than common for her 
 belief that she should outshine all the others. 
 Still her constant boasting was never agreeable, 
 and Lily always would set herself to combat it 
 with all her might. 
 
 " Are not Maggie and Bessie to try with us 
 too ? " she asked. 
 
 '' Of course," answered Gracie ; " they are 
 just as much in the fair as we are ; and Mag- 
 gie works so nicely." 
 
 " Should think she did," said Lily ; " better 
 than a-ny — child — in — the — whole — ivorldP 
 
 The extreme deliberation with which this 
 was said, made it very forcible, and gave the 
 
Grandmamma Howai'd. 95 
 
 remark all the point which was intended. 
 Woe to the person who, in Lily's hearing, ven- 
 tured to deny that her particular friends, Mag- 
 gie and Bessie Bradford, were not all that was 
 wisest, best, and prettiest. 
 
 " Besides," said Belle, " Bessie was the first 
 to find out Jessie and her grandfather, so it 
 seems as if it was very much her charity and 
 Maggie's. Good-morning, dear Miss Ashton ; " 
 and little Belle flew to meet her teacher, whom 
 she dearly loved, and began to tell her of 
 this new and delightful arrangement. 
 
 But she had hardly commenced when she 
 checked herself, and saying, — 
 
 " But it is Grade's to tell about, and I ex- 
 pect she would like to," turned to her school- 
 mate, and allowed her, nothing loath, to take 
 up the tale. 
 
 Miss Ashton approved, and readily consent- 
 ed to what was proposed ; but she was sorry 
 to see that, as usual, Gracie took the chief cred- 
 it, and claimed the first place for herself in 
 the new plan ; seeming, as before, not to have 
 
96 Jessie^s Parrot, 
 
 the slightest doubt that her work would be the 
 best, and bring the highest premium. How- 
 ever, she would say nothing now to damp the 
 general pleasure and enthusiasm, but called 
 her young flock to the business of the day 
 without reproof or remonstrance. 
 
 On the way home from school, Grade 
 called to invite Maggie and Bessie to her 
 grandmamma's house that afternoon ; and at 
 the appointed hour the whole " committee," as 
 Maggie called it, were assembled in the drawing- 
 room of the kind old lady. 
 
 " Now," said Mrs. Howard, " we will settle 
 first who among you are to take these pieces 
 of work. Gracie seemed to think that all who 
 were able to work nicely would prefer worsted 
 work, so I have here two pairs of mats, as well 
 as the toilet sets ; and you may decide for 
 yourselves which you will take. As for the 
 younger ones, I will leave it to them to choose 
 the things they will make for me, as each one 
 knows what she is best able to do." 
 
 Gracie looked dismayed and displeased at 
 
Grandmamma Howard, 97 
 
 the first part of her grandmother's speech ; 
 and, not daring to object aloud, she whispered 
 to Hattie, who stood next her, — 
 
 "It's too bad ! There grandmamma goes 
 and gives three chances against me." 
 
 " Never mind, you'll have the first," 
 answered Hattie ; " you know you work better 
 than any of the others." 
 
 " How many of you," continued the old 
 lady, " are able to do worsted work nicely ? " 
 
 " I can, grandmamma, very nicely," said 
 Gracie promptly, while the others, more modest 
 and shy, looked from one to another. 
 
 " Maggie Bradford works very nicely, 
 ma'am," said Nellie Ransom. 
 
 " And so do you too, my dear, if I'm not 
 mistaken," said Mrs. Howard. " Would you 
 like to do one of the mats ? " 
 
 " If you please, ma'am," said Nellie, and 
 stepping up, Mrs. Howard gave her her choice 
 among the mats. 
 
 " Ah ! you have made the same choice as 
 Gracie," said the old lady. " Well, we shall 
 7 
 
pS Jessie^s Parrot, 
 
 see who will do the best. Gracie, take the 
 mat, my dear. Now for the other pair, 
 Maggie, will you have one ? " 
 
 But Maggie held back a little ; and at length, 
 with many blushes said, that she would prefer 
 to take one of the toilet sets, because Bessie 
 was anxious to help her, and she could do 
 some of the easy sewing on the ruffles, but 
 she could not do worsted work evenly enough 
 to go with her own. 
 
 Bora took one of the second pair of mats ; 
 and Hattie, who was next in age, and who 
 knew very little about embroidering, chose the 
 other toilet set, as she believed she could do 
 that better than the mat. 
 
 Maggie looked wishfully at this, and Mrs. 
 Howard saw the look. 
 
 " Would you like to take this also, Maggie, 
 dear ? " she said. " You deserve some reward 
 for being so unselfish, and if it is not too much 
 for you to undertake, you are quite welcome to 
 try it.'' 
 
 " Oh no, ma'am ! " said Maggie with bright- 
 
Grandmamma Howard, 99 
 
 ening eyes ; " we have nearly seven weeks, you 
 know, and with Bessie's help, and Aunt Annie 
 to arrange all the work for me, I think I could 
 do both. But I don't care for a reward, Mrs. 
 Howard, for you know if Jessie and her grand 
 father have the money, it does not make much 
 difference who does the most." 
 
 " No, truly," said Mrs. Howard ; " and it is 
 not that you may strive to outdo one another 
 that I make these offers, but only that you 
 may all try your best to have the work well 
 done. I am an old-fashioned woman, my 
 dears, and I like to see every little girl brought 
 up to use her needle properly, and to keep her 
 things in order ; so I say that it is not so 
 much the beauty of the work, as the care 
 and neatness with which it is done that I shall 
 look at. Keep it from spot or stain, or from 
 being frayed or rubbed ; this you can all do 
 with proper care." 
 
 Then Mrs. Howard repeated how much she 
 would give for each article, promising also 
 once more to buy some pretty trifle from each 
 
ICX) Jessie^ Parrot, 
 
 of the younger children ; and they all felt as 
 if a large sum was already secure for Jessie 
 and her grandfather. 
 
 After this, the treasures of lace, muslin, 
 ribbons, flowers, beads, and worsteds of all 
 colors were displayed to their delighted eyes, 
 and divided with as much fairness as was 
 possible. Not a child but carried homo with 
 her a most precious package, already in the 
 eyes of the little ones transformed into many 
 an article of use and beauty for the benefit of 
 old Malcolm and his grandchild. The fair was 
 now the all-absorbing subject of thought and 
 conversation among Miss Ashton's young 
 scholars and their little friends, Maggie and 
 Bessie Bradford ; and a fit of uncommon 
 industry had seized upon each and every one. 
 
 But, one morning, only two days after the 
 meeting of the young people at her house, 
 Mrs. Howard was surprised to hear that 
 Maggie Bradford wanted to see her ; and 
 ordering her to be shown in, the little gir] 
 entered, followed by her sister and nurse. 
 
Jessie's Parrot, 
 
 p. 100. 
 
Grandmamma Howard, loi 
 
 Maggie looked flushed and uncomfortable, 
 and held a small parcel in her hand ; but, after 
 she had said good-morning to Mrs. Howard 
 a fit of shyness came over her, and she could 
 not tell her errand. 
 
 So Bessie spoke for her. 
 
 " Mrs. Howard," said the little girl, who was 
 herself rather confused, but who felt bound 
 to help Maggie out of her trouble, " Maggie 
 has come to bring you back the mat. She 
 thinks it is rather better for her not to do it." 
 
 " Did you find you had undertaken too 
 much, Maggie, my dear ? " asked the old lady 
 encouragingly. 
 
 " N-n-no, ma'am," whispered Maggie, pluck- 
 ing up a few crumbs of courage as she heard 
 the kind tone, "no, it was not that ; but we 
 thought I'd better bring it back to you." 
 
 " But you must have some reason," said 
 Mrs. Howard. " Can you not tell me what it 
 is ? Has Gracie been saying any thing unkind 
 to you ? " 
 
 " Gracie has not said any thing to me about 
 it, ma'am," said Maggie rather evasively. 
 
102 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 " Please don't ask us, Mrs. Howard," said 
 Bessie gravely. " Maggie and I overturned our 
 minds about it, and thought we'd better bring 
 back the mat; but we do not want to tell 
 tales." 
 
 " Then I shall not ask," said Mrs. Howard ; 
 but from the very fact that Bessie had inno- 
 cently begged that they might not be pressed 
 to " tell tales," she felt that her suspicions 
 were tolerably correct. Grade's desire to be 
 jirst^ and the fear that others should excel, or 
 even equal her, were becoming so great that 
 they often blinded her to what was just and 
 kind. 
 
 "There are plenty of pretty things that we 
 can make, Mrs. Howard," said Maggie, " and 
 I would rather not do any thing that any one 
 might think was not my share." 
 
 '' Very well, dear, as you please," answered 
 the old lady ; " but since you do not choose to 
 make this I shall not give it to any one else." 
 
 When Maggie and Bessie had gone, the old 
 lady put on her bonnet and went around to her 
 
Grandmamma Howard, 103 
 
 son's house, where she found her little grand- 
 daughter at home. 
 
 " Gracie," she said, after a little talk, 
 " Maggie Bradford came to see me just now, 
 bringing back the mat which she was to have 
 worked for the fair. Do you know any reason 
 why she should have done so ? " 
 
 " Why, no, grandmamma ! " answered Grracie, 
 turning her eyes upon her grandmother in un- 
 feigned and unmistakable surprise, which left 
 no doubt of the perfect truth of her answer. 
 
 " Think," said the old lady, believing that 
 she might have forgotten. " You know you 
 were not pleased that I should give Maggie 
 the two things to make for me ; have you said 
 any thing that could hurt her feelings, and show 
 her that you were displeased ? " 
 
 " I never said one word to Maggie about 
 the mat, grandmamma," said Gracie, " and I 
 can't see how" — she paused, as if struck by 
 some sudden thought, and coloring, added un- 
 easily — " I did talk to Hattie about it, 
 and I was rather provoked, because I did 
 
I04 yesste^s Pm'rot. 
 
 not see why Maggie should have a better 
 chance than the rest to make so much for the 
 fair. And — and — perhaps Hattie went and 
 told Maggie ; but it was real mean of her if 
 she did ; and besides there was nothing for 
 Maggie to be so mad at, and make such a fuss 
 about." 
 
 " Maggie was not * mad,' as you call it, 
 Gracie ; so far from it that she would say 
 nothing to throw blame upon you or any one 
 else," said her grandmother ; " but it was plain 
 that she had been vexed and hurt." 
 
 " Gracie," said her mother who sat by, " it 
 would be a sad thing if you should show your- 
 self so wanting in feeling and gratitude as 
 to say unkind things of Maggie, or to injure 
 her in any way, especially in such a matter as 
 this." 
 
 " Well, mamma, and I'm sure I wouldn't," 
 said Gracie, with a little pout. " I am very 
 fond of Maggie, and I wouldn't do a thing to 
 her ; but I did feel rather provoked about the 
 mat, only I did not mean her to know it. I'm 
 
Grandmamma Howard. 105 
 
 just going to ask Hattie if she told her what 
 I said." 
 
 Gracie was really uncomfortable. She re- 
 membered that she had in a moment of pet- 
 tishness, made one or two remarks to Hattie 
 which she would not have cared to make in 
 Maggie's hearing ; but she would not willingly 
 have offended the latter. She knew very well 
 to what her mother referred when she spoke 
 of Maggie. How a year ago when a prize had 
 been offered for composition by Miss Ashton's 
 uncle, she and Maggie had been believed to 
 stand far ahead of the rest ; how her own com- 
 position, all ready for presentation, had been 
 lost, and that through her own inordinate van- 
 ity ; how Maggie and Bessie had found it, and 
 like the honorable little girls they were, had 
 brought it at once to her, although they believed 
 that by so doing Maggie was deprived of all 
 chance of the much wished-for prize. It was 
 true that neither she nor Maggie had gained it, 
 for it had fallen to Nellie Ransom ; but that 
 did not lessen, or should not have lessened, 
 
To6 Jessie^s Parrot, 
 
 Grade's gratitude to her little friend ; and as 
 her mother said, it ill became her to nm*se any 
 feeling of jealousy towards Maggie. 
 
 " Gracie," said her mother, " can you re- 
 member exactly what you said about Maggie ? " 
 
 " No, mamma," answered the child, looking 
 thoughtful and a little troubled ; " but it was 
 not much, I think." 
 
 " I am afraid," said Mrs. Howard, " that a 
 very little sometimes becomes much in Hattie's 
 keeping. I do not know that she really wishes 
 to make mischief, but her love of talking and her 
 want of strict truthfulness lead her to exag- 
 gerate, and also, I fear, to repeat many a thing 
 with a very different meaning from that which 
 the speaker intended. The more I see of her, 
 the plainer does this become to me ; and I fear, 
 Gracie, that she is not a safe friend for you." 
 
 " Mamma," said Gracie, in a tone of some 
 offence, " you'd never think that Hattie could 
 make me learn to tell stories, do you ? Why, 
 I never told a falsehood in my life, and I'm 
 sure I'd never think of doing such a thing." 
 
Grandinamma Howard, 107 
 
 " I am sure I hope not, my child," said her 
 mother, " but I fear temptation for you, Gracie ; 
 and I think Hattie encourages you in your 
 great fault, your self-conceit and desire for ad- 
 miration. And, although I do not think that 
 you ever mean to be untruthful, my daughter, 
 your idea of your own merits often leads you 
 into exaggeration of these, and makes you un- 
 willing to see them in others." 
 
 Gracie pouted, and put on the expression she 
 always wore if she were found fault with. 
 
 " Mamma," she said, " I think that is a very 
 horrid character to give any one ; and I am sure 
 you need not think I ever could tell a falsehood 
 or do any thing mean to any one." 
 
 " I do not say you would, Gracie. I only 
 want you to beware of temptation." 
 
 " I shan't fall into temptation, no fear of 
 that," said Gracie almost scornfully ; not scorn 
 of her mother, but of the idea that she was not 
 quite able to take care of herself, and that she 
 could be led into wrong-doing. 
 
 " And I shall be obliged to say," continued 
 
io8 yesste's Parrot. 
 
 Mrs. Howard, " that I do not think it best for 
 you to be so much with Hattie. She is doing 
 you no good. I cannot keep you apart 
 altogether, but you must not ask me to let 
 you have her here so often, nor can I allow 
 you to go to her house as much as you have 
 done. When I see you have a more gentle 
 and humble spirit, Gracie, and learning to 
 stand by another strength than your own, I 
 may not so much fear evil companionship for 
 you ; but this very belief that you cannot fall 
 makes you all the more ready to do so." 
 
 Gracie flounced out of the room in high dis- 
 pleasure, muttering to herself as she went up- 
 stairs that her mother always thought " every 
 one better than me," and " it was very unjust," 
 and " just as if I could fall into the temptation 
 of telling a story." 
 
 Mrs. Howard sighed, and looked troubled, 
 as she well might ; and so did grandmamma, as 
 they talked together on this subject, and con- 
 sidered what was best to be done with Gracie. 
 Her overwhelming desire for admiration ; her 
 
Grandmamma Howard. 109 
 
 wish to be first in every thing ; her self-conceit 
 and impatience of reproof were day by day 
 growing stronger and stronger, and overrun- 
 ning all that was fair and lovely in her character. 
 It was, as the mother had said, difficult to 
 break off all intercourse between her and 
 Hattie, although it was certain that the latter 
 was exercising no good influence on Gracie ; 
 for the two families were intimate, and it was 
 impossible, without giving offence, to keep the 
 two children entirely apart. Moreover, they 
 were schoolmates, and had grown really fond 
 of one another, although Gracie was losing 
 confidence in Hattie, as she could not but per- 
 ceive that she had by no means a strict regard 
 for truth. 
 
 But little did Gracie dream that Hattie's in- 
 fluence or example could ever lead her astray 
 in this way. 
 
VI. 
 
 JEALOUSY. 
 
 i|AYS went by, and all was progressing 
 famously for the fair ; at least so 
 thought the little workers. New offers 
 of help came in ; new articles were promised, 
 and some even sent, early as it was, and these 
 were committed to Miss Ashton's keeping until 
 the appointed day — the first of June — should 
 arrive. Mrs. Bradford promised all the ice- 
 cream that should be needed for the refresh 
 ment table ; Mrs. Howard the strawberries ; 
 another mamma offered jelly ; two or three 
 cake ; Mr. Powers promised a quantity of 
 French bonbons ; and from all sides came 
 
Jealousy. Ill 
 
 offers of flowers. Mr. Stanton, the little 
 Bradfords' *' Uncle Ruthven," said he would 
 furnish flags and banners enough to deck the 
 piazza; and mammas, grandmammas, aunts, 
 and cousins were coaxed and wheedled out of so 
 many bright ribbons for the same purpose, that 
 it might have been supposed that they were 
 expected to go in grave colors for the remain- 
 der of their days. 
 
 And if you had seen the doll that Miss 
 Annie Stanton and her sister-in-law were 
 dressing as a baby! 
 
 If you had but seen that doll ! 
 
 With a face so sweet, and so like a " real 
 live baby " that it almost startled one to come 
 upon it unawares in some place where the real 
 live baby could not have been found ! such 
 hands and feet ! and oh, such a fitting out ! 
 Day by day the progress of that doll's ward- 
 robe was watched with eager, delighted eyes 
 by Maggie, Bessie, Belle, and Lily, who had 
 more opportunities for this than the rest of the 
 children. These last were, however, invited 
 
112 Jessie's Parrot, 
 
 in every now and then, to see the wonder as it 
 grew ; and that doll became the great object 
 of interest, in comparison with which the re- 
 mainder of the fair arrangements were as 
 nothing. Every thing that was dainty and 
 pretty and cunning was furnished for the baby 
 doll ; not only clothes without number, but also 
 a tasteful cradle lined and trimmed with blue 
 silk, white muslin, and lace ; and a baby basket, 
 furnished completely with all that the most ex- 
 acting infant could require. In short, this was 
 plainly to be the grand attraction of the fair, 
 at least in the eyes of the younger portion of 
 its patrons, for the fame of the doll spread far 
 and wide, and great was the curiosity of those 
 who had never had the opportunity of witness- 
 ing its beauties. 
 
 And the question arose and was eagerly 
 discussed, who was to be the munificent pur- 
 chaser ? who, oh ! who, the fortunate pos- 
 sessor? Papas and mammas were besieged 
 with petitions and coaxings, but wisely declined 
 making positive promises till the price of the 
 
jealousy, I13 
 
 wonderful prize should be fixed, and the doll 
 herself put up for sale. Money-jugs were 
 broken, and " savings banks " emptied, that the 
 contents might be counted over and over to 
 ascertain if there was any possibility that they 
 might reach the sum which would probably be 
 required; allowances were saved up in the 
 same hope. 
 
 The only trouble about it was, that as Maggie 
 Bradford said, " only one could have the doll, 
 and so all the rest were doomed to disappoint- 
 ment, which made it a case in which it would 
 be well if one man's meat were every other 
 man's poison." 
 
 Jessie and her grandfather were cared for in 
 the meanwhile. Miss Asliton had interested 
 several of her friends in them ; the children 
 had done the same with their parents ; and Mr. 
 Bradford, Mr. Norris, and one or two other 
 gentlemen had been to see old Malcolm, and 
 finding that there was little or no probability 
 of his cure while he remained in the cold, 
 damp shanty, where he had been living for the 
 8 
 
114 yesste's Parrot, 
 
 last few months, had furnished him with more 
 comfortable lodging. 
 
 Jessie's wares were also finding a good 
 market, and every week she came down into 
 the city with a number. Some of these she 
 sold to such purchasers as came in her way, 
 and whatever were left over she carried to 
 Miss Ashton, and put in her hands for the 
 fair. 
 
 She was also making some particularly choice 
 articles which she kept back for exhibition and 
 sale on that occasion ; and among them were 
 half a dozen boxes of straw and bright-colored 
 ribbons, with an initial letter woven in beads 
 upon the top of each. There had been but 
 four of them at first, bearing respectively an 
 M, a B, a G, and a D, standing for Maggie, 
 Bessie, Gracie, and Dora; for Jessie looked 
 upon these as her first friends, because they had 
 first become interested in her story. But Bessie 
 having mentioned that Belle and Lily were 
 " just like ourselves, and my sister and I would 
 be pleased to buy boxes for them at the fair," 
 
Jealousy, 115 
 
 Jessie completed two more with an L for Lily, 
 and a B for Belle. There was a delightful 
 amount of mystery respecting these boxes, for 
 each one of the six knew what had been done 
 for the other five ; Jessie telling her in con- 
 fidence, and leaving her with the suspicion that 
 the same pleasure was in store for her. Not 
 on any account would any one of them have 
 spoken of this suspicion ; oh dear, no ! but was 
 quite prepared to be very much surprised if a 
 box bearing her initial should turn up at the 
 fair. 
 
 Maggie and Bessie owned a pretty little pony, 
 the gift of their Uncle Ruthven ; at least Fred 
 said it was '' Uncle Buthven's present," but 
 Mr. Stanton said it was Fred's. For, having 
 offered Fred the choice of a present for himself 
 as a reward for the pains he had taken to break 
 himself of some troublesome faults, the gener- 
 ous brother asked for a pony for his little sis- 
 ters. He and his brother Harry each owned 
 one, and he wished Maggie and Bessie to enjoy 
 the same pleasure. So Uncle Ruthven had 
 
Ii6 yesste's Parrot, 
 
 bought the pony and equipped him, but he de- 
 clared it was Fred's gift to the little girls, and 
 I think he was about right. 
 
 However that was, the pony had given no 
 small amount of pleasure, and this was still 
 farther increased when Belle's papa gave her 
 one. 
 
 It was a pretty sight to see two of the little 
 girls on these ponies, escorted by Harry and 
 Fred, and the whole party under the care of 
 one of the papas, or Uncle Ruthven, or some- 
 times of old James, the coachman. Belle and 
 Bessie rode as yet with a leading string to the 
 pony's rein, but Maggie had grown to be a fear- 
 less little rider, and had no idea of being led. 
 Lily would have been welcome to a ride now 
 and then if she had chosen, but "the one 
 thing in the world" which Lily feared was a 
 horse, and she declined the most pressing offers 
 of this nature. 
 
 Now that the days were becoming so mild 
 and pleasant, these rides took place quite fre- 
 quently, and they were hardly looked forward 
 
yealousy^ 117 
 
 to more eagerly by the children than they were 
 by old Malcolm and Jessie, who delighted to 
 see the little girls on horseback, and were 
 always on the watch to meet them and receive 
 a kind word. 
 
 " I know who I think will have the best piece 
 of work," said Lily, one day after school, when 
 the little girls were discussing the arrangements 
 for the fair as they prepared to go home. 
 
 " Who ? " asked Gracie quickly. " Maggie, 
 I s'pose. You always think Maggie and Bessie 
 do every thing better than anybody else." 
 
 " Well, and so they do," answered Lily, un- 
 willing to allow that her favorite playmates 
 could be outdone in any thing by another, — 
 " so they do ; but it's not Maggie this time." 
 
 " Who then ? " asked Dora. j 
 
 " Nellie Ransom," said Lily. " Have you 
 seen her mat? " 
 
 No : none of the others had seen Nellie's 
 mat ; but now curiosity was all on tiptoe, and a 
 general desire to see her work took possession 
 of the class. 
 
Il8 Jessie^ s Parrot, 
 
 " Bring all jour works to-raorrow, and let's 
 see which is the best," said Lily. 
 
 " Grade's is, I know," said Hattie. 
 
 " If you have not seen the others you dorCt 
 know," said Lily. 
 
 Hattie whispered something to Gracie and 
 laughed ; but Gracie still wore the displeased 
 look she had put on when Lily declared Nellie's 
 work must be the best. 
 
 For, during the whole of the last year, Gracie 
 had been nourisliing an intense and bitter jeal- 
 ousy of Nellie Ransom. As lias been said 
 before, Nellie was by no means as quick and 
 brilliant a child as Gracie, but she was more 
 persevering and industrious, and so made up 
 for the lack of natural talent. She was the 
 only child in the school who could keep up with 
 Gracie in several studies, such as composition 
 and arithmetic ; and in ajl they learned these 
 two generally stood in advance of the rest. 
 
 And to outstrip Nellie, to be always the 
 fir^t^ the very first was Gracie's great ambition. 
 She believed herself to be by far the wiser and 
 
Jealousy, 119 
 
 cleverer of tlie two, but she was anxious that 
 every one else should acknowledge it also. 
 
 A year ago, when Miss Ash ton's uncle had 
 offered a prize for the best composition, — the 
 occasion to which Mrs. Howard had referred 
 when warning her little daughter against jeal- 
 ousy of Maggie Bradford, — the chances had 
 seemed to lie between Maggie and herself ; but 
 to the astonishment of every one, Nellie's com- 
 position had proved the most deserving, and 
 taken the much-coveted prize. 
 
 Since that time Grade's wish to excel Nellie 
 in all things had known no bounds, and it is 
 really to be feared that she was rejoiced at 
 heart when her painstaking and industrious 
 little schoolmate missed in her lessons, or 
 failed in any work she undertook. 
 
 So now the fear that Nellie's mat should 
 prove to be more neatly worked than her own 
 took complete possession of her, for it was 
 not only the desire to be first, but the desire to 
 outstrip Nellie especially, that filled her heart 
 and niade her envious and jealous. 
 
I20 yessie's Parrot, 
 
 It was agreed that Nellie, Gracie, and Dora 
 should each bring her mat to school the next 
 morning, so as to compare their work and see 
 which was likely to bring the highest price. 
 
 Accordingly this was done, and the children 
 all gathered early, anxious to decide on the 
 respective merits of the three pieces of em- 
 broidery. 
 
 All were well done, neatly and evenly 
 worked ; but there could be no doubt of it, 
 even to Gracie' s unwilling eyes, — Nellie Ran- 
 som's was somewhat the best. It was really 
 astonishing for a child of her age. She was 
 naturally handy with her needle, and had 
 taken so much pains with this mat that it 
 would have done credit to a much older person. 
 The simple pattern was straight and even, and 
 the stitches of the filling in lay in neat, regu- 
 lar rows, the worsted smooth and unfrayed, 
 and not a speck or spot of any description to 
 be seen upon the whole piece. 
 
 Grade's was very nearly a match for it; 
 indeed, had the two pieces been looked at 
 
Jealousy, 1 21 
 
 separately it might have seemed that there was 
 nothing to choose between them ; but laid side 
 by side and closely compared, Nellie's would 
 certainly bear off the palm. 
 
 " Why, Nellie," said Dora, whose own work 
 was by no means despicable, " how beautifully 
 you have done it. I don't believe a grown-up 
 lady could have worked it better. I know 
 Mrs. Howard will say it's the best." 
 
 Quiet Nellie colored and dimpled with pleas- 
 ure. Praise was pleasant to her, as it is to 
 all ; but, although she would have been glad to 
 have her work pronounced the best, it was 
 with no overwhelming desire to outdo her com- 
 panions. Nellie did her very best, but when 
 another did better, she could be content with 
 the feeling that it was not her own fault 
 that she was excelled, and was ready to 
 sympathize with her more fortunate class- 
 mate. 
 
 " That will be priced ten dollars for certain 
 and positive," said Lily, holding up the mat 
 and regarding it with admiration. "It is 
 
122 "Jessie^ s Parrot. 
 
 lovely, Nellie. They are all very nice, 'spe- 
 cially Grade's, but yours is the best." 
 
 ''It's not a bit better than Grade's," said 
 Hattie. 
 
 " Don't you encourage Grade more than she 
 deserves," said Lily admonishingly. " She's 
 pretty nice, but don't you puff her up too much." 
 
 " I know something about you," said Hattie 
 teasingly. 
 
 " Well, know away," answered Lily scorn- 
 fully. "You're always knowing something 
 about somebody ; and you want me to ask you 
 what you know about me ; but I don't want 
 to know, and I'm not going to have you 
 say some of the girls said hateful things of me. 
 Besides — oh ! I forgot ; I b'lieve I was rather 
 anti-politing ;^^ and Lily, who was about to say 
 that Hattie always made things seem worse 
 than they were, put a check upon her saucy 
 little tongue and turned once more to Nellie. 
 
 One might have thought that Lily had 
 worked the mat herself to see her pride and 
 satisfaction in it. 
 
Jealousy, 123 
 
 - " Dora has done more on hers than Nellie 
 and Grade," said Belle. " Their two are 
 pretty nearly the same. Let's see ; Gracie 
 has only two more rows done than Nellie ; no, 
 Nellie has two more done than Gracie — oh ! — 
 why — this is Gracie's, isn't it ? I can hardly 
 tell them apart, they are both so very nice." 
 
 For, handing the mats about from one to 
 another, the same mistake occurred more than 
 once, Gracie's being taken for Nellie's or Nel- 
 lie's for Gracie's, and they had to be held side 
 by side before they could be distinguished. 
 The children laughed and thought this rather 
 funny ; and it gave Gracie some hope tliat hers 
 might be judged to be the best, after all. She 
 would take more pains than ever. 
 
 The thought of the mats and of outdoing 
 Nellie was so busy with her that she did not 
 give her usual attention to her lessons that 
 morning ; and, as the consequence, lost her 
 place in the spelling-class, and was in a peev- 
 ish humor for the rest of the day. 
 
 Fresh cause of displeasure befell her at the 
 
124 yessie^s Parrot. 
 
 close of school, when Miss Ashton said she 
 thought it as well that the May Queen should 
 he chosen soon. 
 
 " Oh ! we want Maggie, of course," said 
 Lily. 
 
 "Maggie again ?'' said Miss Ashton, smil- 
 ing. 
 
 " Yes'm," said Belle. " Maggie is used to it, 
 and she makes the prettiest queen, so we'd 
 rather have her ; wouldn't we, girls ? " 
 
 There was a general murmur of assent, save 
 from two voices. 
 
 " Why don't we make some one else May 
 Queen this year ? " asked Hattie. " We might 
 have Gracie." 
 
 " Hattie," said Lily, endeavoring to make her 
 voice of reproof one of extreme mildness, " as 
 you have not been so very long in the school, it 
 would be better if you let the old inhabitants 
 be the judges." 
 
 "Well, anyhow, I don't see why Maggie 
 always has to be May Queen, and when she don't 
 go to the school either," said Gracie pouting, 
 
Jealousy, 125 
 
 and leaning back against her desk with a dis- 
 contented air, till, catching Miss Ashton's eye 
 fixed sadly and reproachfully upon her, she 
 hung her head and looked ashamed. 
 
 " Be-cause," said Lily with emphasis, " she 's 
 the prettiest child of our acquaintance. Not 
 all the prettiness of all the rest of us make 
 up one-half Maggie's prettiness, and she's not 
 one bit vain or stuck-up about it either ; and if 
 she and Bessie don't just belong to the school, 
 they belong to us, and so it's just the same. 
 Whoever wants Maggie, hold up their hand." 
 
 Up went every hand at once, save those of 
 Gracie and Hattie, and presently Grade's fol- 
 lowed the example of the others, though half 
 unwillingly. 
 
 " Now," said Lily triumphantly, " that's 
 voted, and for ever after let him hold his peace." 
 
 The last allusion was perhaps not exactly 
 clear either to Lily or her hearers ; but it was 
 thought extremely fine, and as having clinched 
 the matter without farther argument. Miss 
 Ashton laughed, and asked if Lily and Belle 
 
126 yessz'e's Parrot. 
 
 would undertake to let Maggie know that she 
 was elected May Queen, which they readily 
 promised to do. 
 
 But the next morning these two little friends 
 returned to school, and told their astonished 
 and disappointed classmates that Maggie posi- 
 tively refused to be May Queen. Why they 
 could not say, but all their persuasions had 
 proved of no avail. Maggie was not to be 
 " coaxed," and would give no reason for her 
 refusal, though she had " seemed to feel awfully 
 about it," Lily said, and had " cried about it " 
 before they left. Bessie had been as much 
 mystified as they were, and even Maggie's 
 mamma, when appealed to, said that she knew 
 of no reason why Maggie should decline the 
 offered honor. Maggie, however, had said she 
 would " tell mamma and Bessie," but she could 
 tell no one else. 
 
 Miss Ashton, when informed of Maggie's re- 
 fusal, said that she would call on her and see 
 what could be done, and until then the matter 
 might rest. 
 
Jealousy, 127 
 
 "* Hattie," said Gracie, drawing her " inti- 
 mate friend " into a corner during recess, " did 
 you tell Maggie Bradford what I said about lier 
 being Queen twice ? " 
 
 " Well — no," said Hattie, hesitating at first, 
 but then uttering her denial boldly as she saw 
 the frown gathering upon Grade's brow. 
 
 Gracie looked at her as if she only half be- 
 lieved her, for she was learning to doubt Hat- 
 tie's word, and although she was greedy of 
 her flattery, she could not help feeling that her 
 chosen friend was not sincere. 
 
 " You know you've told a good many things 
 I did not mean you to," said Gracie, " and I 
 wouldn't like not to be friends with Maggie, or 
 to let her think I'm hateful." 
 
 And Hattie declared over and over again 
 tha,t she had never said one word to Maggie on 
 the subject. 
 
 " I do feel badly about it," said Gracie re- 
 morsefully. " I wish I had never said I thought 
 Maggie ought not to be May Queen. Maggie's 
 been my friend this ever so long, since I was 
 
128 yesste's Parrot. 
 
 quite little ; and I believe I had rather the girls 
 chose her. I've a good mind to write her a 
 note, and tell her I wish she would be Queen." 
 
 All the other children had left the school- 
 room to go down and play on the piazza, and 
 Gracie and Hattie were alone together. 
 
 " I wouldn't," said Hattie ; " you are the one 
 who ought to be May Queen, 'cause you are the 
 smartest child in the school." 
 
 Gracie believed this, and thought Hattie gave 
 her no more than her due ; still, although she 
 liked to hear Hattie say it, the compliment did 
 not turn her from her purpose. 
 
YIL 
 
 A MISFORTUNE. 
 
 S the two children talked, Gracie had 
 been putting a few stitches in her 
 mat. 
 
 "I b'lieve I'll do it,'* she said. "I'll tell 
 Maggie we all want her to be May Queen." 
 
 " Then she'll know you've said something 
 about it," said Hattie anxiously, feeling that 
 this proceeding was likely to bring her into 
 trouble. 
 
 " No, she needn't," said Gracie ; " perhaps 
 she does think I don't want her to be, 'cause 
 at Christmas she knew I was mad about it." 
 
 " Are jca going to beg her pardon ? " asked 
 Hattie. 
 
130 Jessie^ s Parrot. 
 
 "No," said Grade, with one of her scornful 
 tosses of her head. " 1 think I see myself doing 
 such a thing ! But I can write her a little note, 
 and tell her we are all sorry because she won't 
 be May Queen, and beg her to change her mind. 
 I might do as much as that for Maggie," she 
 added to herself. 
 
 Hattie tried to dissuade her no longer, and 
 Gracie laid the mat down upon her desk, 
 opened the lid, and took out a slip of paper and 
 a pen. She dipped the pen in the ink, wrote, 
 " My dear Maggie," at the top of the sheet, 
 and then paused, biting the top of her pen. 
 
 " I can't think what to say, or how to begin 
 it," she said. " My dear Maggie, I am very 
 sorry — no. I had better say we — we are 
 very sorry that you — that you — oh, pshaw! 
 I've a great mind not to do it" — here she 
 dipped her pen in the ink again, and so care- 
 lessly that it came forth quite too full. " Oh, 
 bother ! " she excl^med with increasing ill- 
 humor; "look at this hateful pen ; " and, for- 
 getting the precious piece of work which lay so 
 
A Misfortune, 131 
 
 near at hand, she gave a careless fillip to the 
 pen which spattered forth the ink. 
 
 Gracie gave another impatient exclamation, 
 and pushed away the paper, saying, — 
 
 " I shan't do it ; if Maggie likes to be so 
 foolish about nothing, she just can ; " but she 
 did not see the extent of the mischief she had 
 done till Hattie said in a tone of great dis- 
 may, — 
 
 "0 Gracie! just see what you've done!" 
 
 And there upon her beautiful mat was a 
 great spot of ink. 
 
 Gracie gave a horrified little cry, and, snatch- 
 ing up the mat, thoughtlessly sopped up the 
 spot with her handkerchief, thereby spreading 
 and smearing it till it grew to the size of a 
 two-cent piece, and left an ugly blotch on the 
 bright blue worsted. 
 
 " What shall 1 do ? oh ! what shall I do ? 
 It's spoiled ; it's quite spoiled ! " she said des- 
 pairingly. 
 
 '' I don't believe it is ; maybe it can be taken 
 out," said Hattie, though she was almost as 
 
132 Jessie's Parrot, 
 
 much startled as her little companion. " I'll 
 bring some water, and we'll try to take it 
 out." 
 
 " No, no,'' said Gracie ; " I wish I had not 
 touched it at all. We'll only make it worse ; 
 and I'll ask mamma to try as soon as I go 
 home. Oh, dear, dear, dear ! what shall I do ? 
 Grandmamma will surely say Nellie's is the 
 best now. That hateful girl ! " 
 
 " It's a great shame if she does," said Hat- 
 tie. " Nellie is always trying to get ahead of 
 you ; and she don't deserve it, and I don't 
 think your grandmamma is fair to you. She 
 ought to think her own grandchild's work is 
 the best." 
 
 " I suppose Nellie will just be glad when she 
 sees what has happened to me," said Gracie, 
 whose jealous eyes could now see nothing that 
 was good or fair in Nellie's conduct. 
 
 Innocent, kind-hearted Nellie, who would not 
 willingly harbor an unkind or unjust thought 
 of another ! 
 
 " I shan't let her see it," she continued, 
 
A Misfortune, 133 
 
 hastily rolling up the mat and putting it into 
 her desk, as she heard the other children com- 
 ing. " Don't say a word about it, Hattie, not to 
 any one." 
 
 Hattie promised, really grieving herself for 
 Grade's misfortune, for she truly loved her, 
 and was anxious that she should be the first. 
 
 This was to be a black day for Gracie ; but 
 all through her own jealousy and pride. 
 
 Her mind was so taken up with the remem- 
 brance of the defaced mat that she could not 
 keep her thoughts upon her lessons ; and, 
 although she had known her history very well, 
 her attention wandered so much that she 
 answered incorrectly more than once. 
 
 Seeing, however, that something had dis- 
 turbed her. Miss Ashton made allowances, and 
 gave her one or two opportunities to correct 
 herself and bring her thoughts back to the 
 task before her. 
 
 But it was all in vain ; Gracie had already lost 
 her place in the spelling-class, and gone down 
 below Dora Johnson and Laura Middleton ; 
 
134 yessie's Parrot. 
 
 and now the fear of a fresh mortification, and of 
 giving Nellie her place at the head of the his- 
 tory class added to her confusion, and she 
 floundered more and more hopelessly. Nellie 
 begged too that she might have still another 
 chance, when at last Miss Ashton passed the 
 question to her ; but again Gracie failed and 
 was obliged to yield her place. 
 
 Angry, mortified, and jealous, Gracie showed 
 such determined ill-temper towards her gen- 
 erous little classmate, that Miss Ashton was 
 obliged to reprove her, but without effect. 
 
 Again she called Gracie to order, and this 
 time more severely. 
 
 The angry and wilful child hesitated for 
 one moment, then pride and passion burst all 
 bounds, and she answered Miss Ashton with 
 such insolence, such ungoverned and unjusti- 
 fiable impertinence that the whole class stood 
 aghast. 
 
 There was a moment's perfect stillness. 
 Miss Ashton turned very pale, and laying her 
 book down upoft the table, covered her face 
 
A Misfortune, 135 
 
 with her hand, while the children looked from 
 her to Gracie and back again, in utter dismay 
 and astonishment. 
 
 Then the stillness was broken by a piteous, 
 " Oh, dear ! " from poor little Belle, who fin- 
 ished with a burst of tears, and her example 
 was followed by more than one of the others. 
 
 Miss Ashton raised her head. 
 
 " Go into the cloak-room, Grace," she said 
 quietly. 
 
 Gracie was herself frightened at what she had 
 done ; but her pride and temper were still far- 
 ther roused by the shocked and disapproving 
 looks of her schoolmates, and she stood for an 
 instant with determined stubbornness, while 
 the words, " I won't," formed themselves upon 
 her lips. 
 
 But they were not uttered, for there was 
 something in Miss Ashton's face which checked 
 her ; something which not one of the little flock 
 had ever seen before ; and when the lady 
 repeated her words in the same calm tone, — 
 
 " Go intc the cloak-room," Gracie turned 
 away and obeyed. 
 
136 Jessie^s Parrot, 
 
 It was with head held high, and scornful 
 look, however, that she passed out, although 
 bitter shame and regret were burning in the 
 poor, foolish little heart. But she called up all 
 her pride and jealousy to stifle the better feeling 
 which urged her to run to her teacher, and, in 
 the face of the whole school, confess her fault, 
 and beg Miss Ashton's pardon for the insulting 
 words she had spoken. 
 
 " What will she do, I wonder," she said to 
 herself ; " will she tell mamma ? What will 
 mamma say, and papa too ? " and, as the re- 
 collection of her parents' oft-repeated warnings 
 against the pride and vanity which were her be- 
 setting sins came back to her mind, she could 
 not but feel that this was the consequence of 
 allowing them to gain such a hold upon her. 
 
 She/eZi it, for conscience would make itself 
 heard ; but she would not acknowledge it even 
 to herself, and drowned the reproving whisper 
 with such thoughts as, — 
 
 " Well, then, why is Miss Ashton so unjust ? 
 She is always trying to make me miss and 
 
A Misfortune, 137 
 
 lose my place. She is always glad when any 
 one goes above me. She never praises me as 
 much as I deserve ; " and such unjust and un- 
 true accusations. 
 
 It might be that Miss Ashton did not always 
 bestow upon Gracie all the praise she would have 
 given to another for a perfect lesson or good 
 composition, for she did not think much praise 
 good for her, as it only seemed to minister to 
 Grade's over-weening vanity. But only eyes 
 that were wilfully blind and suspicious could 
 find the slightest injustice or unkindness in her 
 treatment of any one of her little scholars, and 
 her gentleness and patience might have won 
 gratitude from the most stubborn young heart. 
 
 But Gracie would not listen to the prompt- 
 ings of her better spirit ; and the recollection 
 of the dismayed and averted looks of her 
 schoolmates added fuel to the flame of her 
 angry pride. Even the ever admiring Hattie 
 had looked shocked at her outburst. 
 
 " I don't care," she said again to herself. 
 " It's only 'cause they know I am so much 
 
138 Jessie's Parrot, 
 
 cleverer than any of them, and they are jeal- 
 ous of me. That hateful Nellie ! She was so 
 proud to go above me." 
 
 Wretched and unhappy, she spent the time 
 in her solitude till the close of school, when 
 the other children came into the cloak-room 
 for their hats. 
 
 No one said a word to her, for they had been 
 forbidden to do so ; and if they had occasion to 
 speak to one another they did so in whispers, 
 as if something terrible had happened, and a 
 great awe had fallen upon them. She sat in a 
 corner, sullen and defiant, trying to put on an 
 appearance of the utmost indifference, but suc- 
 ceeding very poorly. She even tried to hum 
 a tune, but something rose in her throat and 
 choked her. She scarcely knew what to do ; 
 whether or no to rise, and take her hat, and go 
 down as usual to find the nurse, who was prob- 
 ably waiting for her below ; and while she sat 
 hesitating, one and another of her young com- 
 panions passed out, as if glad to hurry from 
 her presence, and she was left once more alone. 
 
A Misfortune, 139 
 
 She had just taken down her hat, when Miss 
 Ashton came in, and, handing her a note, said 
 gravely, — 
 
 " Give this to your mother, Gracie," and 
 left her again. 
 
 Ashamed and alarmed at the thought of 
 what might follow when she should reach 
 home, but with her pride and anger not one 
 whit abated, Gracie went slowly on, giving 
 short and snappish answers to the inquiries of 
 her nurse, who plainly saw that something was 
 wrong. 
 
 But she dared not face her mother when she 
 should hear of her misconduct ; and when they 
 entered the house, she thrust the note into the 
 hand of the maid, bidding her give it to Mrs. 
 Howard, and ran quickly up to her own little 
 room. 
 
 There she stayed, wondering and waiting. 
 Five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, half an hour 
 passed away, and still her mamma did not 
 come. 
 
 Was it possible ? could she really hope that 
 
140 Jessie^ s Parrot. 
 
 the note had not been one of complaint of her 
 conduct ? 
 
 No, that could never be ; there was the bell 
 for the children's early dinner. Well, she 
 would go down and act as if nothing had 
 happened. But could she with this uncertainty 
 of how much or how little mamma knew ? 
 
 But there was mamma's step, and now Mrs. 
 Howard entered the room. One half glance 
 at her face and Grade's eyes fell. It was 
 enough to show her that her mother knew all. 
 
 " Mean old thing ! " she said to herself, 
 meaning Miss Ashton. '-'• She's gone and told, 
 and now I s'pose I'll be punished." 
 
 " Gracie," said her mother, '' I suppose you 
 scarcely need to be told what is in this note 
 which Miss Ashton has sent me." 
 
 Gracie stood with head erect, pouting lip, 
 and defiant eyes, idly tossing back and forth 
 the tassel of the window curtain with as much 
 indifference as she could assume. 
 
 " Has it come to this, my child," continued 
 Mrs. Howard sorrowfully, " that you have 
 
A Misfo7'tune, 14 1 
 
 allowed conceit and self-will to gain such a 
 hold upon you, that you could wilfully and 
 deliberately insult your teacher ? I have been 
 sure that you would fall into trouble, Gracie, 
 for I knew that such foolish pride must sooner 
 or later have a fall, but I could not have 
 believed that you would be guilty of this. 
 "What did you say to Miss Ashton ? " 
 
 " I don't care," said Gracie passionately, 
 without directly answering her mother's ques- 
 tion. " It was all true, every word of it. She's 
 as hateful as she can be, and unjust and 
 mean ; " and Gracie went on, pouring forth a 
 torrent of invective and reproach against Miss 
 Ashton and Nellie Ransom, without paying the 
 slightest heed to her mother's commands to be 
 silent. It was the long pent-up feeling of 
 jealousy and ill-will and pride, that she had 
 been nourishing for months past, and which 
 now burvst all bounds and swept every thing 
 before it. 
 
 Respect, and even obedience towards her 
 mother, reason, justice, and truth itself were 
 
142 Jessie^s Parrot, 
 
 totally lost sight of, as she poured forth accu- 
 sation after accusation against the offenders, 
 and upheld her own conduct in all she had done 
 and said. 
 
 " And you have said all this to Miss Ashton, 
 perhaps ? " said her mother sternly, when the 
 angry child at last came to a pause. 
 
 " It is true enough if I did," muttered Gracie 
 again, though her passion was by this time he- 
 ginning to cool down in a measure. " I'm 
 sure I wish I never went to her hateful old 
 school." 
 
 " It is more than probable that Miss Ashton 
 wishes so now ; but I shall leave you to 
 think over what you have said to me and to 
 Miss Ashton, and to find out how much of it 
 is true. One thing Miss Ashton desires, — that 
 you do not return to her school till you are 
 ready to acknowledge your fault, and to apolo- 
 gize for your impertinence. And until this 
 is the case, you must remain in your room. 
 Your meals will be sent to you, and I shall not 
 allow your brothers and sisters to have any in- 
 
A Misfortune. 143 
 
 tercourse with you till you are ready to make 
 such amends as you can. You may send for 
 me when you have any thing to say to me. Oh, 
 Gracie, Gracie ! " 
 
 With which words, spoken in a sad, despond- 
 ent tone, Mrs. Howard went away, closing 
 the door upon her stubborn, rebellious little 
 daughter. 
 
 Gracie stood where her mother had left her, 
 not one whit softened or humbled ; for now her 
 angry pride began to accuse her mother also of 
 injustice and partiality and unkindness. 
 
 " Everybody in the world takes part against 
 me," she said to herself ; " but I don't care. 
 Indeed, I won't beg Miss Ashton's pardon, not 
 if I stay here a year. Mamma makes such a 
 fuss about her being so kind and patient and 
 all that. She's paid for teaching me, so it's 
 nothing so wonderfully good. I hope I never 
 will go back to the school where that hateful 
 Nellie is." 
 
 Soon the door opened, and the nurse ap- 
 peared, bearing a tray on which was Grade's 
 
144 yessie^s Parrot, 
 
 dinner. She set it upon a table, placed a chair, 
 and went away without a word to her. 
 
 " I don't care," said Gracie once more, " no 
 one need talk to me if they don't want to. 
 I'm just as good as they are, and I'd just as 
 lief stay here by myself." 
 
 She sat down before the dinner-tray, trying 
 to believe that she would "just as lief eat 
 her dinner alone ; " but she found it was not so 
 agreeable after all. She wondered what they 
 were doing downstairs ; if the children were 
 chattering as merrily as usual, or if her absence 
 made any difference in the family enjoyment. 
 She had little appetite, as may be supposed, 
 and left the nicely served meal scarcely 
 touched. 
 
 But it must not be thought that she had any 
 idea of yielding or acknowledging herself in 
 the wrong. By and by she heard her brothers 
 and sisters coming upstairs, then their voices 
 in the nursery as they prattled to one another ; 
 and she knew that they were being made ready 
 for their afternoon airing. Then tiny feet pat- 
 
A Misfortune. 145 
 
 tered along the hall, and little May's voice 
 Rounded through her closed door, — 
 
 " Am 00 dood now, Dacie ? We'm doin out, 
 Dacie ; am 00 most dood ? Pease don't be 
 naughty dirl, Dacie," and the soft little hand 
 tapped upon the panel as the baby voice pleaded. 
 
 '' Come away, darling. Gracie may come 
 out when she is good and says she is sorry," 
 said mamma's voice ; and Gracie knew that her 
 mother had led the little pet away. 
 
 But all this only seemed to harden her. 
 May was such a darling, the sweetest and 
 dearest of all her brothers and sisters, Gracie 
 thought ; and, although the sweet, coaxing voice 
 had touched her, she only found in her mother's 
 interference fresh cause of offence. 
 
 " Mamma tries to set even May against me, 
 and I s'pose she's been telling all the children 
 what I did," she thought ; " but I don't care. 1 
 believe they'll grow tired of having me away 
 before I am tired of staying here. There's 
 plenty for me to do. I can read, and I'll work 
 on my mat." 
 
 10 
 
146 Jessie's Parrot, 
 
 But here it suddenly flashed upon her that 
 she had not brought her mat home with her. 
 Being sent away in disgrace and not returning 
 to the school-room before leaving, she had quite 
 forgotten it, and it still lay there in her desk. 
 And that stain upon it, too, which she had 
 intended to ask her mother to take out if pos- 
 sible. Mamma would not feel like doing it for 
 her now, and she could ask no favors from her. 
 Not unless she repented and — and — apolo- 
 gized to Miss Ashton. And this last she 
 would not do ; no, never, never. 
 
 She heard the children going downstairs, 
 stood at the window and watched them get into 
 the carriage and drive away with mamma, and 
 began to wish that- she were there too. And 
 such a lovely afternoon, it was too bad to be 
 shut up here. But still she never blamed her- 
 self for her imprisonment ; no, mamma, Miss 
 Ashton, Nellie, any one was in the wrong, but 
 not her own wilful, stubborn little self. What 
 was to be the end of this she did not know, 
 but Gracie had no thought of yielding. 
 
A Misfortune, 147 
 
 She whiled away the afternoon as she best 
 could ; but every thing seemed to have lost its 
 zest. Her prettiest story-books had no inter- 
 est ; her dolls were '' stupid " and poor com- 
 pany ; even her stock of pretty materials for 
 articles for the fair seemed less attractive 
 than usual as she turned them over, and her 
 work " would not go." 
 
 This was the first time in her life that Gracie 
 had ever been punished in such a manner ; and 
 apart from the disgrace, which she was deter- 
 mined not to feel, she was a child who was 
 fond of society and did not know how to bear 
 being deprived of it. 
 
YIII. 
 
 THE SPIDER AND THE FLY: 
 
 F Mrs. Howard had perhaps hoped 
 that little May's pleading would 
 have any softening effect on Gracie, 
 she was mistaken. The message she had 
 expected to receive on reaching home did not 
 come to her. Nor did she hear a word from 
 Gracie through the evening until the little 
 girl's bed-time came. Then she sent word 
 that the hour had come, still hoping and 
 believing that the stubborn heart must relent, 
 and that Gracie would feel that she could not 
 go to rest unforgiven and without her moth- 
 er's good-night kiss. But she was mistaken. 
 Gracie r:^ reived the message in sullen silence, 
 
** The Slider and the Fly*^ 149 
 
 but obeyed and went to bed without one word 
 of sorrow or repentance. 
 
 It was the same in the morning. Gracie 
 rose and was dressed ; her breakfast was 
 brought and eaten in solitude, as her dinner 
 and supper had been yesterday ; and still the 
 nurse who waited upon her passed in and out, 
 as it was necessary, and brought no word to 
 comfort the sorrowing heart of her mother. 
 
 School-time came, and Gracie knew that 
 ihe children in her class would believe that 
 her absence was caused by her misconduct of 
 the previous day, as was indeed too true ; but 
 this only made her feel more and more proud 
 and obstinate. 
 
 The long, weary morning wore away, the 
 solitary dinner was once more over, and again 
 the house seemed so still and lonely, for mam- 
 ma and the children had gone out again, 
 and the servants were all downstairs. 
 
 By and by Gracie heard a light, quick foot 
 running up the stairs and coming towards her 
 own door. The latch was turned and the 
 
^5^ y^ssie^s Parrot, I 
 
 I 
 
 door softly opened, — Mrs. Howard had not j 
 
 locked her in, for she believed that she could \ 
 
 trust Gracie and that she would not disobey I 
 
 so far as to leave the room she had been bid- ■ 
 
 den to keep, — and Hattie's face peeped in. '\ 
 
 Gracie started, partly in astonishment, j 
 
 partly in dismay ; for what must she do now ? \ 
 
 Mamma would not have allowed her to see \ 
 
 Hattie, she knew, if she had been at home ; ' 
 
 and must she send her away ? She was so j 
 
 glad to see some one, to be able to speak to i 
 
 some one. ] 
 
 Hattie came in, closed the door behind her, 
 
 and, running to Gracie, put her arm about her j 
 
 neck and kissed her, saying with much energy, — ] 
 
 '' It's too mean, Gracie ! it's the meanest ,; 
 thing I ever knew ! It's a great shame 1 " 
 
 There could be no doubt of her sympathy, 
 
 of her belief that Gracie was in the right, or i 
 
 at least that she was not so very much to ] 
 
 blame, and was undeservedly punished. For < 
 
 Hattie was really and truly very fond of \ 
 
 Gracie, admired her and considered her very i 
 
" The Slider and the Fly J' 151 
 
 clever ; and, although even she had been dis- 
 mayed bj Grade's outburst yesterday, she was 
 now disposed to treat it lightly, and to say that 
 Gracie had been provoked. There was another 
 reason, too, which induced Hattie to take part 
 against Nellie Ransom, and to wish to put her 
 in the wrong. 
 
 " Hattie ! " said Gracie, '* how did you 
 come up here ? Mamma wouldn't allow it, I 
 know." 
 
 Hattie laughed triumphantly. 
 
 " I knew that," she said, " for I came to the 
 door a little while ago and the servant said 
 you were up in your room, but he thought you 
 could not see any one to-day, and he said every 
 one else was out. But I said I had a message 
 from school for you, and that you must have it 
 this afternoon. So of course he thought it 
 was from Miss Ashton, as I meant he should, 
 and he let me come up." 
 
 " Mamma will be displeased," said Gracie ; 
 ^' you ought not, Hattie. I'm very glad to see 
 you, but I must not let you stay." 
 
X52 Jessie^ Parrot, 
 
 " I'll only stay a few minutes," said Hattie, 
 taking the seat which Gracie had not ventured 
 to oifer her. " I've something perfectly splen- 
 did to tell you." 
 
 " Was everybody saying ugly things about 
 me to-day, and talking as if I was as wicked 
 as a murderer ? " asked Gracie, more interested 
 in the opinion others might hold of her than 
 in Hattie' s promised news. 
 
 There had really been very little said on the 
 matter ; the offence was too serious and too 
 shocking to Grade's young companions to 
 make it an agreeable subject of conversation ; 
 and, although there had been some wondering as 
 to whether Gracie would ever be allowed to 
 return to the school, but few unkind remarks 
 had been made, and these were more in sorrow 
 than in censure. 
 
 And Hattie was too full of her errand and 
 of the fear of being found on forbidden 
 ground to make as good a story of that little as 
 she might have chosen to do at another time. 
 " Well, no, not much," she answered. " I 
 
«' The Spider and the Fly,'' 153 
 
 suppose that old Nellie, hateful thing, was glad 
 enough." 
 
 " Did she say so ? " questioned Gracie. 
 
 ^' No," said Hattie ; " she did not speak about 
 it. Gracie, did Miss Ashton send word to 
 your mother and ask her to punish you ? " 
 
 " She wrote to her about it, and I suppose 
 mamma punished me of her own accord," 
 answered Gracie. 
 
 " How long is she going to keep you up 
 here ? " asked Hattie. 
 
 " Till — till — I beg Miss Ashton's pardon," 
 said Gracie, her angry pride rising again at 
 the thought ; " and I viewer will do it, no, never ^ 
 not if I stay here a year ! " 
 
 " But the fair," said Hattie ; " you know the 
 fair is in two weeks, and if you don't come out 
 before that you'll miss all the fun." 
 
 Now, apart from the interest which all the 
 little girls took in the fair, Gracie had a strong 
 desire, as usual, to play some very prominent 
 part therein. As we know, she had wished to 
 be Queen, and had been vexed because Maggie 
 
154 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 Bradford had been chosen again ; but, although 
 she could not have this coveted honor, she still 
 hoped and intended to make herself very con 
 spicuous there. 
 
 It was true that the thought of the fair and 
 all that concerned it had been much in her 
 mind, even during her imprisonment ; but it had 
 not occurred to her that her resolution of never, 
 never apologizing to Miss Ashton, " even if she 
 stayed shut up for a whole year," would scarcely 
 agree with her appearance at the festival. 
 
 She sat as if confounded at Hattie's words. 
 
 "I'd do it if I were you," continued the 
 latter, seeing the effect she had produced. 
 " It's a great shame that you have to, but then 
 you will have to, you know ; and I'd do it and 
 have it over. If you're going to fret and fuss 
 here about it, you'll feel a great deal worse at 
 last when you come to do it." 
 
 Hattie's advice on this subject was cer- 
 tainly good in itself, though she did not put 
 it before Gracie in a right light. 
 
 " Miss Ashton is so unjust and so awfully 
 
<« The Spider and the Fly.'' 155 
 
 partial to Nellie," pouted Gracie, although her 
 resolution was beginning to waver a little for 
 the first time. 
 
 " I know it," said Hattie ; " but she can't 
 make other people think Nellie is the smartest 
 child. Every one knows you are, Gracie, even 
 if they won't say so." 
 
 " I can learn three lessons while Nellie 
 learns one ; but Miss Ashton is always praising 
 her and never praises me," was Grade's 
 answer. 
 
 " I know it," said Hattie again. "Nellie 
 — oh, I can't bear that girl! — sets up to be 
 so wonderfully good, and Miss Ashton always 
 believes whatever she says, and makes such 
 a fuss about her ; but you can just Bay you 
 beg Miss Ashton's pardon, and have it over. 
 The rest of the class will have every thing 
 their own way if you don't come out pretty 
 soon and have your word about the fair ; and 
 there's your mat, too, you know, Gracie." 
 
 " I forgot my mat yesterday when I came 
 away," said Gracie. " I wish you had known 
 
156 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 it and then you could have brought it to 
 me" 
 
 Again Hattie gave a triumphant little laugh, 
 and putting her hand into her pocket drew 
 out the mat, — that is, a mat. 
 
 Gracie seized it eagerly, gave Hattie a kiss, 
 saying, " Oh, you dear thing ! I'm so glad." 
 
 Then she looked for the stain, but there was 
 no stain to be seen. 
 
 " Where's that ink-spot ? Oh, Hattie, did 
 you take it out ? There's not a sign of it." 
 
 " No," said Hattie, " I did not take it out." 
 
 i4 Why ! " exclaimed Gracie, turning the 
 mat over. " Why, it is — it is — it's not mine. 
 It's Nellie's mat!" 
 
 " I'm going to tell you," said Hattie. '' This 
 morning Miss Ashton handed me your history, 
 which I believe you left in the cloak-room yes- 
 terday, and told me to put it in your desk. So 
 when I opened the desk, the first thing I saw 
 was the mat, and I knew you must have for- 
 gotten it. Nellie, the mean thing, she had 
 brought her mat to school to-day again, and 
 
<* The Sfider and the Fly:' 157 
 
 Baid she was going to work on it in recess ; 
 but when recess came the other children 
 coaxed her to go out in the garden 'cause it 
 was so pleasant, and she went. So while they 
 were all down there, I saw the way to play 
 Miss Nellie a good trick and to help you, dear ; 
 and I ran up to the school-room, changed Nel- 
 lie's mat for yours, put hers back just aa 
 she had left it, and she'll never know the dif- 
 ference and think that somehow that ink-spot 
 has come on her mat. And do you know, 
 Gracie, it was the most fortunate thing that 
 Nellie had just worked those two rows more 
 that made her work even with yours ; so she 
 never can know. You remember yesterday we 
 could scarcely tell them apart, and now they 
 look almost exactly alike." 
 
 " But what then ? " said Gracie, almost 
 frightened at the thought of Hattie's probable 
 meaning. 
 
 *^ Why, don't you see ? " said Hattie, who 
 told her story as if she thought she had done 
 something very clever and praiseworthy ; '* you 
 
158 Jessie^s Parrot, 
 
 can just finish this mat as if it was your own, 
 and need not bother yourself about the ink- 
 stain." 
 
 "But — but — Hattie — this one is Nellie's," 
 said Gracie in a shocked voice. 
 
 " What of that ? we'll keep the secret, and 
 no one will ever know but us two," said Hattie. 
 " Nellie has the other one, and that's good 
 enough for her. She has no right to expect 
 the most money from your grandmamma. 
 Take a great deal of pains with this, Gracie, 
 and make the work look just like Nellie's." 
 
 " But, I can't, I can't," said Gracie. " It 
 seems to me almost like — stealing." 
 
 " Stealing 1 " repeated Hattie. " I'd like to 
 know who has been stealing ! I only changed 
 the mats, and you have the best right to the 
 nicest one. I was not going to have Nellie get 
 every thing away from you. She just thinks 
 she's going to make herself the head of the 
 school and beat you in every thing." 
 
 Now as I have said, and as you w^ill readily 
 believe, there was more at the bottom of Hat« 
 
«* The Spder and the Fly:' 159 
 
 tie's desire to thwart Nellie than her wish to 
 see Gracie stand first, although she was really- 
 very fond of the latter, and it was this. 
 
 It had so happened that Nellie's rather 
 blunt truthfulness and clear-sighted honesty 
 had more than once detected Hattie's want of 
 straightforwardness, and even defeated some 
 object she had in view, and for this Hattie bore 
 her a grudge. She was particularly divSpleased 
 with her at the present time because of a repri- 
 mand from Miss Ashton which she chose to 
 consider she owed to Nellie. 
 
 Coming to school rather early one morning, 
 a day or two since, Nellie found Belle Powers 
 and Hattie there before her. 
 
 Belle sat upon the lower step of the upper 
 flight of stairs, in a state of utter woe, with the 
 saddest of little faces, and wiping the tears 
 from her eyes. Hattie, grasping the banister 
 with one hand, was swinging herself back and 
 forth, saying, " I wouldn't care if I were you. 
 'Tis nothing to cry about ; " but she looked 
 ashamed and rather caught when she saw 
 Nellie coming up the stairs. 
 
i6o yesstes Parrot. 
 
 " What is the matter, Belle ? " asked Nellie, 
 sitting down beside the school pet and darling, 
 and putting her arm around her neck. 
 
 " Fannj Leroj said things about me," sobbed 
 Belle. 
 
 "^ What things ? " questioned Nellie with a 
 searching look at Hattie. 
 
 " She said I was so bad and spoiled I could 
 hardly ever be good, even when I wanted to," 
 answered Belle piteously ; " and she said Miss 
 Ashton had to be excusing me all the time for 
 the naughty things I did in school. And I 
 loved Fanny, and 1 wouldn't have said such bad 
 thltigb about her ; and, oh, dear ! I thought she 
 loved me too. She came to Aunt Margaret's 
 when I was there the day before she went away, 
 to say good-bye to Maggie and Bessie and me ; 
 and she gave us each a nutmeg to remember 
 her by and to keep for ever an' ever an' ever 
 for a keepsake, and she kissed me ever so 
 many times. And all the time she had been 
 saying bad things about me, and so I'm going 
 to throw away the nutmeg, 'cause I don't want 
 
*' The Slider and the Fly,^'' i6i 
 
 a keepsake of a girl who made b'lieve she 
 liked me when she didn't." 
 
 " I don't believe it," said Nellie with far 
 more energy than was usual with her, and still 
 regarding Hattie with searching looks. 
 
 " But Hattie says she did," repeated Belle. 
 
 Hattie 's saying a thing made it by no means 
 sure in Nellie's eyes, and although she was not 
 apt to interfere or meddle where she had no 
 right to do so, she would not let this pass 
 without further questioning. She was fond of 
 the absent Fanny and loved Belle dearly ; and 
 believing that both were now wronged, she set 
 herself to right them if possible. 
 
 " I don't believe it," she said again. 
 
 " Well, you just can believe it," said Hattie 
 resentfully. " Don't I know what Fanny 
 said to me ? It's nothing to make such a fuss 
 about, anyhow. 
 
 " Belle has very easily hurt feelings," said 
 
 Nellie ; " and besides, it ^s something to make a 
 
 fuss about. And Fanny hardly ever would say 
 
 unkind things of other people ; the girls used 
 
 11 
 
1 62 yesste's Parrot. 
 
 to think she was 'most too particular about it 
 And, Hattie Leroy, I don't believe she evei 
 said such things about Belle ; anyhow, not 'vo 
 that way." 
 
 " She did, too, I tell you," persisted HattiG, 
 secure in Fanny's absence, and determined no^c 
 to acknowledge that she had misrepresented 
 her innocent words, from the mere love of 
 talking and exaggeration, too ; for she had not 
 intended to hurt Belle so much, and was now 
 really sorry to see her so grieved. " She did, 
 too, I tell you. How do you know what Fanny 
 said to me ? " 
 
 " I don't know what she did say, but I am 
 sure she never said that," repeated Nellie. 
 
 Both little girls had raised their voices 
 as they contradicted one another, and as 
 the tones of neither were very amicable by 
 this time, they drew the attention of Miss 
 Ash ton. 
 
 " What is this, my little girls ; what is the 
 trouble ? " she asked, coming up the stairs to 
 them ; then, seeing Belle's still distressed and 
 
" The Spide? and the Fly:' 163 
 
 tear-stained face she inquired, " Belle, darling, 
 what is wrong ? " 
 
 Nellie and Hattie were both rather abashed, 
 especially the latter, who knew herself to be in 
 the wrong ; but Belle answered, " Hattie 
 thinks Fanny Leroy said something, and Nellie 
 thinks she didn't. I don't know," she added 
 with a mournful shake of her head, " but 
 somehow somebody must be rather ' deceitful 
 and despicably wicked. ' " Desperately, Belle 
 meant, and she quoted her words in no spirit 
 of irreverence, but because she thought them 
 suited to the, to her, solemnity of the oc- 
 casion. 
 
 Miss Ashton, too, feared that there was 
 some deceitfulness, or at least exaggeration ; 
 and seeing that little Belle was in real trouble 
 she questioned further, and Nellie told her 
 what Hattie had said. 
 
 This was not the first time, by any means, 
 that Miss Ashton had known mischief to arise 
 from Hattie' s thoughtless way, to call it by no 
 worse name, of repeating things ; and she re- 
 
164 Jessie^ s Parrot, 
 
 proved her pretty sharply, telling her that such 
 speeches were not at all like her gentle, ami- 
 able cousin Fanny, and she could not believe 
 her guilty of them; and even had she said 
 them she, Hattie, had no right to repeat them 
 and make needless sorrow and trouble for 
 Belle. Then she soothed Belle and encouraged 
 her to think that Fanny had not so wronged 
 her ; and after school she kept Hattie for a few 
 moments, and spoke to her very seriously but 
 kindly on her idle, foolish habit of telling tales 
 with exaggeration and untruthfulness. 
 
 But Hattie, in repeating this, had said that 
 " Miss Ashton kept her in and gave her an 
 awful scolding just because she had said some- 
 thing that cry-baby Belle did not like, and 
 Nellie went and told her and so put her in a 
 scrape ; " nor did she see that it had been her 
 own blame in the first instance. And over 
 since she had been vexed with Nellie, and this 
 added strength to her wish to have Gracie out- 
 strip Nellie. It was not altogether this, let us 
 do her justice, for she really loved Giacie bet- 
 
** The Spider and the Fly.'' 165 
 
 ter than any other child in the school, and was 
 anxious to have her Avin for her own sake. 
 
 But we must go back to these two little girla 
 as they sat together in Grade's room. 
 
 " Yes, so she does," echoed Gracie ; " and I 
 suppose now Miss Ashton will take away my 
 conduct marks, and being away to-day, I'll lose 
 my place in all the classes too. Not that I 
 could not get ahead of her again easily enough," 
 she added contemptuously. 
 
 " But she can't have the best mat now," 
 said Hattie. 
 
 " I don't see how I could do that," said 
 Gracie. " It is her's, you know, Hattie, and I 
 can't, really I can't." 
 
 " But you'll have to now," said Hattie. 
 " You know Nellie has found the ink-spot on 
 the other mat by this time, and there's no way 
 to give her this one back." 
 
 Yes, there was one way, but that did not 
 enter Hattie's thoughts. 
 
 "I couldn't," said Gracie again, shrinking 
 at the idea of doing what she knew to be so 
 
l66 yessie's Parrot, 
 
 dishonest and deceitful. " I must have my 
 own mat, Hattie ; but I do wish this was mine 
 and the other Nellie's." 
 
 " But we can't put it back now, and I took 
 it for you," said Hattie complainingiy. " Gracie, 
 you must keep it now. I shall get into an 
 awful scrape if you don't ; and it's real mean 
 of you." 
 
 It would take too long to tell you of all the 
 arguments and persuasions Hattie used. How 
 she pleaded and reproached ; how she insisted 
 that there was no way of undoing what she 
 had done ; how she excited and increased 
 Grade's jealous pride and desire to outdo 
 Nellie ; and this last she found by far the most 
 effectual argument. 
 
 And — Gracie yielded. Persuading herself 
 that she had the best right to receive the high- 
 est premium because her own grandmamma 
 had offered it ; putting from her the thought 
 of the only way in which justice could now be 
 done to Nellie, on the plea that Hattie would 
 fe^ disgraced^ £^nd she would be " too mean" to 
 
'' The Sfider and the Fly:' 167 
 
 bring this upon her ; rousing up all her own 
 naughty and envious feelings against innocent 
 Nellie, she gave way at last and fell before 
 temptation. Fell into the very sin, or even 
 worse, from which she felt herself so very 
 secure, — deceit and theft, for it was no less. 
 " Now I'll go, dear," said Hattie, jumping 
 up as soon as Gracie had yielded, perhaps 
 afraid that she might repent and insist that she 
 could not keep the mat, " and no one but us 
 two will ever know the secret. And, Gracie, 
 make up your mind to ask Miss Ashton's par- 
 don, so you won't lose all the fun." 
 
IX. 
 
 A GUILTY CONSCIENCE. 
 
 F Gracie had been an unhappy and 
 miserable child before, what was she 
 now with all this load upon her con- 
 science ? For even pride and self-conceit could 
 not attempt to justify such a deed. Jealousy 
 had a good deal to say ; and she tried to listen 
 to that, and to believe also that she was not 
 really to blame : she had been forced into it ; 
 she could not betray Hattie, who had done this 
 from love to her. But she was more wretched 
 than it would be easy to tell ; and she was be- 
 ginning to feel such a contempt for her chosen 
 friend that this also was a sore spot in her 
 
A Guilty Conscience, 169 
 
 heart. Day by day she was learning that there 
 was nothing true or honorable or upright about 
 Hattie. She hardly even seemed to think it 
 much harm to tell a falsehood, or appeared 
 ashamed when she was found out ; and for 
 some days she had had a growing feeling that 
 it was not pleasant to have a friend with the 
 character of a " story-teller," which Hattie 
 now bore among her school-fellows. And 
 Gracie ; was she not just as bad, perhaps even 
 worse ? For Gracie had been taught all the 
 value and beauty of truth, and had never till 
 now wilfully fallen away from it ; but she knew 
 that the worth of that jewel was not much con- 
 sidered in Hattie's home, and so it had lost its 
 preciousness in her eyes. 
 
 Miss Ashton, too, knew this ; and so she was 
 less severe with Hattie than she might have 
 been with another child who had a better 
 example and more encouragement to do right 
 in this particular. 
 
 Lily, in her plain speaking, would probably 
 have called Mr, and Mrs, Leroy by the same 
 
170 Jessicas Parrot, 
 
 uncomplimentary name she had given to Mr. 
 Raymond ; for the same foolish system of man- 
 agement was carried on in their family. Prob- 
 ably they would have been much shocked to 
 hear it said that they taught the lesson of de- 
 ceit ; but was it to be expected that Hattie 
 could have much regard for the truth when she 
 heard herself and her brothers and sisters 
 threatened with punishments, which were not, 
 perhaps could not be carried out ; when prom- 
 ises were made to them which were not kept ; 
 when they were frightened by tales of bears, 
 wolves, and old black men, and such things 
 which had no existence ? 
 
 " Willie, your mamma said she would send 
 you to bed if you went there," was said to little 
 Willie Leroy one day. 
 
 " Oh, I'm not afraid," answered Willie, con- 
 temptuously. " Mamma never does what she 
 says ; " and off he ran to the forbidden spot, his 
 words proving quite true, although his mamma 
 heard that he had disobeyed her so deliberately. 
 
 " Is your mother going to make you something 
 
A Guilty Conscience, 171 
 
 for the fair ? " Hattie was asked by one of her 
 schoohnates. 
 
 " She says so ; but I don't know if she will," 
 was the answer. 
 
 Hattie's was not the simple faith of " Mam- 
 ma says so," so sweet in little children. 
 Mamma might or might not do as she had said 
 she would, according to the convenience of 
 the moment. 
 
 So it was no marvel that Hattie thought it 
 no great harm to escape punishment or gain 
 some fancied good by stretching the truth, or 
 even telling a deliberate falsehood ; or that, 
 having a great love of talking, a story should 
 outgrow its true dimensions in her hands ; or 
 that she did not see what was honest and up- 
 right as well as some children. 
 
 But with Gracie Howard it was very differ- 
 ent. 
 
 Truth, and truth before all things, was the 
 motto in her home, the leeson which from her 
 babyhood had been taught to her by precept 
 and by example ; and the conscience which, in 
 
172 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 Hattie, was so easily put to sleep, would not let 
 her rest. In vain did jealousy and ambition 
 try to reconcile her to the act of dishonesty 
 and meanness into which she had allowed her^ 
 self to be drawn ; in vain did she argue with 
 herself that " it was all Hattie' s fault ; " she 
 could not betray Hattie when she had done 
 this just for her ; or " there was no way of 
 putting the mat back now ; she could not help 
 herself." Gracie sinned with her eyes open, 
 and her conscience all alive to the wickedness 
 of which she was guilty. 
 
 But her stubborn pride was beginning to 
 give way in one point ; for she had no mind to 
 " lose the fun of the fair, " as Hattie said, — 
 though even the fair had lost some of its 
 attraction with this weight upon her conscience, 
 — and she resolved to send for her mother, and 
 tell her she would ask Miss Ashton's pardon. 
 
 So when the long, weary afternoon had 
 worn away, and Mrs. Howard came home, 
 Gracie rang the bell, and sent a message beg- 
 ging her mother to come to her. 
 
A Guilty Conscience, 173 
 
 Mamma came thankfully ; but one look at 
 her little daughter's face was enough to con- 
 vince her that she was in no softened mood, 
 in no gentle and humbled spirit. It was with 
 a sullen and still half-defiant manner that 
 Gracie offered to do what was required of her ; 
 and her mother saw that it was fear of farther 
 punishment, and not real sorrow and repent- 
 ance, which moved her. 
 
 " I suppose I ought not to have spoken so, 
 mamma," she answered, when her mother 
 asked her if she did not see how very naughty 
 she had been ; " but Miss Ashton is so unjust, 
 and Nellie provokes me so." 
 
 ^' How is Miss Ashton unjust ? " asked Mrs. 
 Howard. 
 
 Gracie fidgeted and pouted, knowing that 
 her mother would not be willing to accept the 
 chp-Tges she was ready to bring. 
 
 " She's always praising Nellie for every thing 
 she does, mamma ; and in these days she never 
 gives me one word of praise, even when every 
 one has to see that I do the best. And — and 
 
174 ycssi'e's Parrot. 
 
 — I b'lieve she tries to make me miss, so Nel- 
 lie can go above me in the classes." 
 
 " Gracie," said her mother, " you know that 
 that last accusation is untrue. As for the first, 
 if Miss Ashton is sparing of her praise, my 
 daughter, it is because she knows it is hurtful 
 to you. Nellie is a timid child, trying to do 
 her best, but with little confidence in her own 
 powers ; and praise, while it encourages and 
 helps her to persevere, does not make her vain 
 or conceited. But Miss Ashton sees that that 
 which is needful for Nellie is hurtful to you ; 
 for it only increases your foolish vanity and 
 self-esteem, and it is for your own g )od that 
 she gives you a smaller share. You have, 
 unhappily, so good an opinion of yourself, 
 Gracie, that praise not only makes you dis- 
 agreeable, but disposes you to take less trouble 
 to improve yourself. Let me hear no more of 
 Miss Ashton's injustice. When you deserve it, 
 or it does not hurt you. Miss Ashton is as ready 
 to give praise to you as she is to another. You 
 say you are willing to ask her pardon for your 
 
A Guilty Conscience, 175 
 
 impertinence ; but I fear that you do not really 
 see your fault." 
 
 " Are you not going to let me come out, then, 
 mamma ? " 
 
 " Yes, since you promise to do as 1 say ; but 
 I fear you are in no proper spirit, Gracie, and 
 that you will fall into further trouble unless 
 you become more submissive and modest." 
 
 " Hattie was here this afternoon, mamma," 
 said Gracie, as she followed her mother from 
 the room. 
 
 " So I understood," said Mrs. Howard, who 
 had been waiting for the confession, having been 
 informed of the circumstance by the servant. 
 
 " I left my mat in school yesterday," said 
 Gracie, " and she thought I would want it, and 
 came to bring it back." 
 
 She spoke in a low tone and with downcast 
 eyes ; for Gracie was so unused to deceit that 
 she could not carry it out boldly, as a more 
 practised child might have done. 
 
 Something in her manner struck her mother, 
 who turned and looked at her. 
 
176 Jessie^ s Parrot, 
 
 " Did Hattie bring you any message from 
 Miss Asliton ? " she asked. 
 
 "No, mamma : she only came about the mat ; 
 and she begged me to ask Miss Asliton' s par- 
 don," answered Gracie with the same hesita- 
 tion. 
 
 But her mother only thought that the avert- 
 ed face and drooping look were due to the 
 shame which she felt at meeting the rest of the 
 family after her late punishment and disgrace. 
 
 " I told Hattie you would not wish her to 
 stay with me, mamma ; but she would not go 
 right away, but I would not let her stay very 
 long." 
 
 " I am glad you were so honest, dear," said 
 Mrs Howard. 
 
 Honest ! Gracie knew how little she deserved 
 such a character, and her mother's praise made 
 her feel more guilty than ever. 
 
 She was received with open arms by the 
 otiier children ; for Gracie was the eldest of the 
 flock, and, in spite of her self-conceit, she was 
 a kind little sister, and the younger ones quite 
 
A Guilty Conscience, 177 
 
 shared her own opinion, thinking no child so 
 good and wise as their Gracie. And they had 
 missed her very much ; so now they all treated 
 her as if she had been ill or absent, and made 
 much of her. 
 
 But for once Gracie could not enjoy this, 
 and it only seemed to make her feel more 
 ashamed and guilty. What would mamma 
 say, what would all say if they only knew ? 
 
 Mrs. Howard had told Gracie that she might 
 either go to school early in the morning and 
 make her apology to Miss Ashton before the 
 other scholars came, or she might write to 
 her this evening, and send the note to her 
 teacher. 
 
 Gracie had chosen to do the last ; but when 
 the younger children had gone to bed, and she 
 tried to write the note, she found she could 
 not bring her mind to it. Her conscience was 
 so troubled, and her thoughts so full of her guilty 
 secret, that the words she needed would not 
 come to her ; and as her mother saw her sit- 
 ting with her elbows upon the table, biting the 
 12 
 
178 Jessie^ s Parrot, 
 
 end of her pencil or scrawling idly over her 
 blotter and seeming to make no progress at all, 
 she believed, and with reason, that Gracie was 
 not truly repentant for what she had done, and 
 had only promised to beg Miss Ashton's par- 
 don in order that she might be released from 
 the imprisonment of which she had tired. 
 Gracie was not usually at a loss for ideas or 
 words where she had any thing to write. 
 
 " I can't do it," she said pettishly at last, 
 pushing paper and pencil from her. " I s'pose 
 I'll have to go to Miss Ashton in the morning, 
 and I b'lieve I'll go to bed now. Good-night, 
 mamma.'' 
 
 And Gracie went to her room, wishing to 
 escape from her own thoughts, and bring 
 this miserable day to a close as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 But the next morning it was no better ; and 
 now it seemed harder to go to Miss Ashton 
 and speak than it would be to write. But it 
 was too late now : she had no time to compose 
 a note, '' make it up " as she would have said, 
 
A Guilty Conscience. 179 
 
 and to copy it before school, and she must 
 abide by her choice of the previous night. 
 
 She started early for school, according to 
 her mother's desire, with many charges from 
 her to remember how grievously she had 
 offended Miss Ashton, and to put away pride 
 and self-conceit and make her apology in a 
 proper spirit. 
 
 Had there not been that guilty secret fret- 
 ting at Grade's heart, she might have been in- 
 duced to be more submissive ; but, as it was, 
 she felt so unhappy that it only increased her 
 reluctance to make amends to Miss Ashton and 
 acknowledge how wrong she had been. 
 
 She asked for her teacher at once when she 
 reached the house, anxious to "have it over ; " 
 and, when the young lady appeared, blurted out, 
 " I beg your pardon. Miss Ashton." 
 
 Miss Ashton sat down, and, taking Grade's 
 half-reluctant hand, drew her kindly tc"«^ards 
 her. 
 
 " It is freely granted, my dear," she said* 
 " And are you truly sorry, Gracie? " 
 
i8o yesste's Parrot. 
 
 Gracie fidgeted and wriggled uneasily ; but 
 we who know what she had done can readily 
 believe that it was more pride than a strict 
 love of the truth which led her to say to her- 
 self that she was " not sorry, " and " she 
 could not tell a story by saying so." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, ma'am, and I won't do 
 so again," she repeated, seeing that Aliss Ashton 
 waited for her answer. 
 
 Miss Ashton did not wish to force her to say 
 that which she did not feel, and she saw that 
 it was of no use to argue with her in her 
 present stubborn mood ; but she talked quietly 
 and kindly to her, setting before her the folly 
 and the wrong of the self-love and vanity 
 which were ruling her conduct, and day by day 
 spoiling all that was good and fair in her 
 character. 
 
 " See what trouble they have brought you into 
 now, Gracie," she said ; " and unless you 
 check them in time, my child, they will lead 
 you deeper into sin. I scarcely know you for 
 the same little girl who first came to me, so 
 
A Guilty Conscience, i8i 
 
 much have these faults grown upon you ; and 
 they are fast destroying all the affection and 
 confidence of your school-fellows. Why, 
 Gracie, I have heard one little girl say that 
 * Gracie thought so much of herself that it 
 sometimes made lier forget to be very true. ' " 
 
 Gracie started. Was this the character her 
 self-love was earning for her? she wlio 
 desired to stand so high in all points with the 
 world. 
 
 Ah ! but it was for the praise of man, and 
 not for the honor and glory of God that Gracie 
 strove to outshine all others ; and she walked 
 by her own strength, and the poor, weak prop 
 must fail her and would lay her low. 
 
 " Forget to be very true ! " 
 
 How far she had done this, even Miss Ash- 
 ton did not dream ; but it seemed to Gracie 
 that she had chosen her words to give her 
 the deepest thrust, and she bowed her head in 
 shame and fear. 
 
 But Miss Asliton, knowing nothing of what 
 was passing in that guilty young heart, was 
 
 / 
 
t82 yessze's Parrot, 
 
 glad to see this, and believed that her words 
 were at last making some impression on 
 Gracie, and that she was taking her counsel and 
 reproof in a different spirit from that in which 
 she generally received them. 
 
 Strange to say, in all the miserable and 
 remorseful thoughts which had made her 
 wretched since yesterday afternoon, it had not 
 once entered her mind how she was to face 
 Nellie when the poor child should make known 
 the misfortune which had befallen her. 
 
 One by one the children came in, and how 
 awkward Gracie felt in meeting them may 
 readily be imagined by any one who has suf- 
 fered from some similar and well-merited dis- 
 grace. Still she tried, as she whispered to 
 Hattie she should do, to " behave as if nothing 
 had happened ; " and when little Belle, after 
 looking at her wistfully for a moment as if un- 
 decided how to act, came up and kissed her, 
 saying, " I'm glad to see you, Gracie," she 
 answered rather ungraciously, " I'm sure it's 
 not so very long since you saw me," and sent 
 
A Guilty Conscience, 183 
 
 the dear little girl away feeling very much 
 rebuffed. 
 
 And yet she really felt Belle's innocent 
 friendliness, and her sweet attempt to make 
 her welcome and at her ease ; but pride would 
 not let her show it. 
 
 Nellie was one of the last to arrive, and her 
 troubled and woe-begone face startled Gracie 
 and smote her to the heart. 
 
 " Such a dreadful thing has happened to me," 
 said Nellie, when she was questioned by the 
 other children ; and the tears started to her 
 eyes afresh as she spoke. 
 
 " What is it ? What is it ? " asked a number 
 of eager voices. 
 
 " I don't know how it can have happened," 
 said Nellie, hardly able to speak for tlie sobs 
 she vainly tried to keep back. " I have been 
 so, so careful ; but there is an ugly spot like ink 
 or something on my mat. I can't think how 
 it ever came there, for I put it in my desk very 
 carefully when school began yesterday, and did 
 not take it out till I got home, and I did not 
 
184 Jessie^s Parrot, 
 
 know there was any ink near it. But when I 
 unrolled it last evening the stain was there, 
 and mamma thinks it is ink, and she cannot 
 get it out. And I've taken such pains to keep 
 the mat clean and nice." 
 
 And here poor Nellie's voice broke down en- 
 tirely, while Gracie, feeling as if her self-com- 
 mand, too, must give way, opened her desk and 
 put her head therein, with a horrible choking 
 feeling in her throat. 
 
 " We'll all tell Mrs. Howard it came some- 
 how through not any fault of yours," said Lily. 
 " Never mind, Nellie, yours is the best mat, 
 anyhow : we all know it ; " and Lily cast a de- 
 fiant and provoking glance at Gracie, which 
 was quite lost upon the latter. 
 
 Lily had suggested on the day before, that 
 when Gracie came back to school they should 
 " all behave just as if nothing had happened," 
 just what Gracie intended to do ; but generous 
 Lily had said it in quite a different spirit from 
 that in which Gracie proposed it to herself. 
 
 But Grade's rebuff to Belle, and the seeming 
 
iiiiliii 
 
 ili||iir'''iiiiii 
 
 / /Jliiiiyiiii4_-,-^ 
 
 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 p. 184. 
 
A Guilty Conscience, 185 
 
 indifference with which she treated Nellie's 
 misfortune, roused Lily's indignation once 
 more ; for she thought, as did many of the other 
 children, that Gracie did not feel sorry for Nel- 
 lie's trouble, since it gave her the greater chance 
 of having her own work pronounced the best, 
 
 " Yes, we will tell Mrs. Howard," said Dora 
 Johnson : " yours was really the best mat of 
 all, though Grade's was almost as nice ; and 
 we will tell her something happened to it that 
 you could not help, and perhaps she will not 
 mind it." 
 
 " Perhaps a vase standing on it would cover 
 the spot," said Laura Middleton. 
 
 Nellie shook her head. 
 
 "No," she said, " that would not make it 
 any better. Mrs. Howard said that the best 
 and neatest mat must take the highest pre- 
 mium, and mine is not the neatest now. I 
 wouldn't feel comfortable to do any thing that 
 was not quite fair, even if you all said I 
 might." 
 
 " That was not quite fair 1 " 
 
1 86 Jessie's Parrot. 
 
 More and more ashamed, and feeling how 
 far behind Nellie left her in honesty and fair- 
 ness, Gracie still sat fumbling in her desk, 
 looking for nothing. 
 
 " Well," said Dora, '* we'll speak to Mrs. 
 Howard about it, and see what she says : won't 
 we, Gracie ? " 
 
 Gracie muttered something which might 
 mean either yes or no. 
 
 " Augh I " said Lily, " what do you talk to 
 that proudy about it for ? She don't care a 
 bit. I b'lieve she's just glad and wouldn't help 
 Nellie if she could." * . 
 
 Gracie made no answer : she was too miser- 
 able for words or to think of answering Lily's 
 taunts, and she would have given up all thought 
 of having any thing to do with the fair to have 
 had Nellie's mat safely in her possession once 
 more. Oh, if she had never yielded to temp- 
 tation or to Hattie's persuasions ! 
 
 " How you do act ! " whispered Hattie to 
 Gracie. '' If you don't take care they will sus- 
 pect something." 
 
A Guilty Conscience. 187 
 
 " I can't help it," returned Grade in the 
 same tone : " it is such an awful story that we 
 have told." 
 
 " It is not a story," said Hattie ; " we've 
 neither of us said one word about the mat." 
 
 This was a new view of the matter ; but it 
 brought no comfort to Gracie's conscience. 
 She knew that the acted deceit was as bad as 
 the spoken one, perhaps in this case even worse. 
 
 She felt as if she could not bear this any 
 longer, as if she must tell, must confess what 
 she had done; and yet — how? How could 
 she lower herself so in the eyes of her school- 
 mates ? she who had always held herself so 
 high, been so scornful over the least meanness, 
 equivocation, or approach to falsehood ! 
 
 A more wretched little girl than Gracie was 
 that morning it would have been hard to find ; 
 but her teacher and schoolmates thought her 
 want of spirit arose from the recollection of 
 her late naughtiness and the feeling of shame, 
 and took as little notice of it as possible. 
 
 And Lily, repenting of her resentment when 
 
1 88 Jessie^ s Parrot. 
 
 she saw how dull and miserable Gracie seemed, 
 threw her arms about her neck as they were 
 leaving school, and said, " Please forgive me 
 my provokingness this morning, Gracie. I 
 ought to be ashamed, and I am." 
 
 But Gracie could not return, scarcely suffer, 
 the caress, and dared not trust herself to speak, 
 as she thought how furious Lily's indignation 
 would be if she but knew the truth. 
 
 ^gfi^ 
 
X. 
 
 A GAME OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 T home or at school, studying, working 
 or playing — for the latter she had 
 little heart now — Gracie could not 
 shake off the weight that was upon her mind 
 and spirits. Even her work for the fair had 
 lost its interest ; and as for the mat, Nellie's 
 mat, she could not bear the sight of it. She 
 went to sleep at night thinking of it, and try- 
 ing to contrive some way out of her difficulty, 
 though she would not listen to the voice of her 
 conscience which whispered that there was but 
 one way ; and she woke in the morning with 
 the feeling that something dreadful had hap- 
 pened. Appetite and spirits failed ; she grew 
 
ipo Jessie's Parrots 
 
 fretful and irritable, and her mother imagined 
 that she must be ill, though Gracie resolutely 
 persisted that tliere was nothing the matter 
 with her, and that she felt quite well. 
 
 " Gracie," said Mrs. Howard one morning 
 after three or four days had passed, " it appears 
 to me tliat you ar^. not doing much on your 
 mat. How is that ? " 
 
 " I don't care," answered Gracie, fretfully. 
 " I don't believe I'll finish it. I'm tired of the 
 old thing." 
 
 " That will not do, my child," said her 
 mother. " You have undertaken to do this for 
 your grandmamma and for the fair, and I can- 
 not have you stop it now without some good 
 reason. Bring the mat to me." 
 
 Gracie went for the mat very unwillingly, 
 though she dared not refuse nor even show her 
 reluctance. 
 
 " It really does you credit," said Mrs. 
 Howard, taking it from her hands : '' it is so 
 smooth and even, and you have kept it so 
 neat. But you must be more industrious, dear, 
 
A Game of Character's, 191 
 
 if you are to have it finished in time. And 
 see, Gracie," she continued, looking at it more 
 closely, ^' these last few lines look not quite 
 as nicely as the rest. There is a difference in 
 the work, and you will have to take more pains 
 than you have done here. It looks almost as 
 if another person had worked it. You have 
 not let any one help you with it, have you ? " 
 
 " No, mamma," replied Gracie in a low tone 
 and with a frightened feeling. Was there 
 really such a difference between her work and 
 Nellie's that it was so easily detected ? 
 
 It had not occurred either to her or to 
 Hattie, perhaps they did not know, that the 
 work of two different hands seldom or never 
 matches well upon embroidery in worsted, 
 and that it is almost sure to be perceived. 
 She was dismayed at the thought that her 
 mother had noticed this, and now every stitch 
 that she took seemed to make the difference 
 more plain, take what pains she might. 
 
 She began to feel angry and indignant at 
 Hattie for leading her into this sin, shutting 
 
192 Jessie^s Parrot. 
 
 her oyes to the fact that, if she had not 
 allowed proud aud jealous thoughts to creep 
 into her hearty temptation would not have had 
 BO much influence over her. 
 
 She no longer took any pleasure in the 
 society of her little friend, and shrank from 
 her in a way that Hattie perceived, and by 
 which she was hurt ; for she was disposed in 
 her own mind to throw all the blame upon 
 Hattie, forgetting that she was really the most 
 to blame, since she had been better taught, and 
 saw more clearly the difference between right 
 and wrong. 
 
 As for Nellie, poor, innocent, injured Nellie, 
 Gracie felt as if she could not bear the sight 
 of her ; and when she saw in what a gentle, 
 patient spirit she took her great misfortune, 
 — for so all the children considered it, — she 
 grew more and more ashamed and lowered in 
 her own sight. Pride and self-esteem could 
 not now blind her to the fact that Nellie 
 was better, far better, than herself. 
 
 Meanwhile the change in Gracie was excit- 
 
A Game of Characters, 193 
 
 ing the wonder of all, the pity of some, of her 
 young friends and schoolmate-s. Only Hattie 
 held the clew to it ; and she was surprised that 
 such " a trifle," as she considered it, should 
 have such an effect upon Gracie and make her 
 so unhappy. 
 
 But Gracie was not a really bad or deceit- 
 ful child, although she had suffered herself to 
 be led so far astray. She was not naturally 
 more unkind or selfish than most of us who 
 have not the love and fear of God before us ; 
 indeed she was what children call " generous '* 
 in giving or sharing what she had, and she 
 was always glad to do a helpful or obliging 
 act for another. But she had always trusted 
 to her own strength, and believed she could 
 not fall, and now she was learning that her 
 high thoughts of herself, and her carelessness 
 of what she considered little faults, had made 
 her an easy prey to temptation and the 
 indulgence of a foolish pride and jealousy had 
 led her into this great sin into which she had 
 not imagined she could fall. But although 
 13 
 
194 Jessie^s Parrot. 
 
 she saw this now, she was not truly repent- 
 ant; for she would not take the only right 
 and true way to make amends ; and spent her 
 time wishing vain wishes, and trjdng to con- 
 trive some way out of her difficulty without 
 bringing disgrace upon herself or losing her 
 character for honor and truthfulness among 
 her young companions. It troubled Gracie far 
 less to think how she already stood in the eyes 
 of God, than it did to imagine how she might 
 appear in the sight of her earthly friends if 
 this thing were known. 
 
 There was a small children's party at Mrs. 
 Bradford's. Gracie did not care to go ; indeed 
 she would much rather not have done so : but 
 her mother had accepted for her, and she had 
 no good excuse for staying away. 
 
 She was more restless and miserable than 
 usual that afternoon: she set up her opinion 
 against that of all the rest, found fault with 
 her playmates in every game that was begun, 
 was more than usually sure that she knew 
 every thing and could do better than any ono 
 
A Game of Characters. 195 
 
 else, and, not having her wits and thoughts 
 about her, miserably failed in all the plays in 
 which she meant to shine. 
 
 " What shall we play now ? " asked Bessie 
 at length, when they had all tired of some 
 romping game. 
 
 " Let's take a little rest, and play ' Charac- 
 ters,' " said Gracie, who was very good in this, 
 having no match among her present playmates 
 save Maggie. 
 
 " Well," said Maggie, willing to please her 
 if possible, although she saw some objections 
 to the game just now ; " we'll play it ; but it 
 is rather hard for the younger ones, so we 
 must take easy characters. Who'll go out ? " 
 
 " I will," said Lily ; " but mind you do take 
 an easy one. Somebody we know very well, not 
 any history or jography character. I don't 
 want to bother my head about lesson people 
 when I'm playing." 
 
 a Yery well," said Maggie ; and Lily went 
 out, singing loudly in the hall that she might 
 " be sure and not hear." 
 
T96 Jessie^s Parrot 
 
 " Let's take Cromwell," said Gracie, always 
 anxious, no matter what her frame of mind, to 
 display her knowledge. 
 
 " No," said Maggie, " that's too hard for 
 Lily ; and she wants us to take some one we 
 know." 
 
 " I should think any goose might know about 
 Cromwell," said Gracie. 
 
 " We did not know about him till a few 
 weeks ago," said Dora Johnson. " We've 
 only just had him in our history, and I don't 
 b'lieve Lily knows much about him." 
 
 '' Then take Lafayette," said Gracie. 
 - " Lily means some of the people we have in 
 our own lives," said Bessie. " Make haste : 
 she'll be tired." 
 
 This was seconded by Lily's voice calling 
 from without, " Why don't you make haste ? 
 I should think you were choosing a hundred 
 people." 
 
 " Let's take Flossey," said Belle, looking at 
 the dog, who had jumped upon a chair beside 
 Maggie, where he sat with a wise and sedate 
 
A Game of Characters. 197 
 
 air as if he were listening to all that passed, 
 and ready to take his ^hare in the game. 
 
 This was agreed upon by all but Gracie, who 
 declared that it was " ridiculous to choose a 
 dog," and she had " a great mind not to play 
 the game in such an absurd way." 
 
 Lily was called in and proceeded to ask her 
 questions. 
 
 " Male or female ? " was the first, beginning 
 at Dora. 
 
 " Male," answered Dora. 
 
 " Black or white ? " asked Lily. 
 
 " Neither," said Belle, who was next in turn, 
 " least he's not black at all ; but he's some 
 white." 
 
 Lily looked rather puzzled at this. 
 
 " And what color besides is he ? " 
 
 " Brown," answered Bessie. 
 
 " A brown and white man," said Lily. " Oh ! 
 I know. It's old black Peter." 
 
 " No, no, no," echoed around the circle. 
 
 " Not one scrap of Peter is white," said 
 Mamie Stone. • He's the blackest old man I 
 ever saw." 
 
ipS yessze's Parrot. 
 
 " Part of his eyes are white and his teeth 
 too,'* said Lily, who was generally pretty sure 
 of her ground when she stated a fact. " Where 
 does he live ? " 
 
 " In this country," said Nellie. 
 
 « In this city ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Maggie. 
 
 " Is he good or bad ? " 
 
 " Good, most generally," answered Mabel ; 
 " only sometimes pretty mischievous." 
 
 "Oh," said Lily, light beginning to break 
 upon her. "Can he talk?" 
 
 " He tan't talt, but he tan bart pretty well," 
 said Frankie, to whom the question fell. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! that's too plain," cried one and 
 another laughing ; and Maggie, thinking Frankie 
 did not understand the game well enough to be 
 allowed to go out, gave a hint to Lily, but not 
 wishing to hurt her little brother's feelings took 
 refuge in the French language, and said : — 
 
 *' Ne guessez pas a lui." 
 
 Frankie, however, was too sharp for her ; 
 there was not much that escaped him, and he 
 
A Game of Characters, 199 
 
 exclaimed in a very aggrieved tone that it was 
 " not fair," and that Lily should guess at him. 
 
 So Lily said " Flossey" was the character; 
 and, amid much laughter, the young gentleman 
 betook himself to the hall with a pompous air, 
 telling the little girls to make haste. 
 
 " Let's take himself," said Bessie, which 
 being agreed upon, Frankie was called back 
 almost before he was well out of the room. 
 
 " Is he blat or white ? " he asked, following 
 Lily's example, and beginning as she had done 
 at Dora. 
 
 " He's white," said Dora laughing ; and, in 
 obedience to a suggestion from Maggie to help 
 him out, she added, — " white, with brown eyes 
 and red cheeks and brown hair." 
 
 *' Flossey," cried Frankie triumphantly. 
 
 *'No, no ; not Flossey again," said the chil- 
 dren. 
 
 " Does he have four feets ? " asked the little 
 boy. 
 
 "No, only two," said Belle. 
 
 " Does he live in the stable ? " asked Frankie. 
 
200 yesste^s Parrot, 
 
 " No, he lives in this house," said Bessie. 
 
 " Blackie," said Frankie, who was unable to 
 give up the idea that since it was not Flossey 
 it must be the little pony owned by his sisters. 
 
 " Does he eat hay ? " was his next question. 
 
 " No," answered Nellie, " he eats fruit and 
 meat and bread and milk, and, oh ! how he 
 does love sugar and candy ! " 
 
 "Me," cried Frankie, feeling that this des- 
 cription exactly suited himself. 
 
 The character having been guessed at Nel- 
 lie she now went out, and Maggie, willing to 
 put Gracie in a good humor if possible, asked 
 her who they should take this time. 
 
 " Mary, Queen of Scots," answered Gracie 
 promptly. 
 
 It was not altogether probable that the 
 younger children knew much of this unfor- 
 tunate lady, but Grade's choice was acceded 
 to and Nellie called. 
 
 " Male or female ? " was of course the first 
 question. 
 
 " Female," answered Dora, 
 
A Game of Characters, 201 
 
 " Old or young ? " 
 
 "Um — m — m, pretty old," said Belle; 
 " at least she was grown up." 
 
 " Is she alive now ? " 
 
 " No," answered Bessie. 
 
 "Where did she live?" 
 
 " Well," said Lily, " she lived in a good 
 many places. But not in this country. Gene- 
 rally in France or Scotland." 
 
 " Oh," said Nellie to whom this answer gave 
 an inkling of the truth ; but she passed on to 
 the next. 
 
 " Was she good or bad, Maggie ? " 
 
 " Some think her quite celestial and some 
 think her quite infernal," answered Maggie 
 with grand emphasis ; " but on the whole I 
 think she was not either, only rather middling 
 like the most of us." 
 
 Nellie felt more confident than ever; but 
 not caring to risk one of her three guesses as 
 yet, she passed on. The questions she put to 
 Mabel and Frankie were simple and very easily 
 answered ; then came Gracie's turn. 
 
202 Jessicas Parrot. 
 
 " What was she celebrated for ? " 
 
 " For cruelty and persecuting people," 
 answered Gracie confidently ; and Nellie's 
 idea was at once put to flight by the reply. 
 
 " That's a mistake," said Dora. " You are 
 thinking of another character, Gracie." 
 
 *' I'm not, either," said Gracie. " Don't I 
 know history better than any of you ? " 
 
 " You don't know that^ anyway," said Mag- 
 gie. " Gracie, you are wrong. Slie was not 
 the character you are thinking of, and was not 
 celebrated for that." 
 
 " But she «^as," persisted Gracie. 
 
 " Nellie," said Maggie, " you need not 
 guess by what Gracie has told you, for she is 
 not right." 
 
 " I'll put my question another way," said 
 Nellie. " Can I ask Gracie once again ? " 
 
 All agreed and Nellie asked, — 
 
 " Was she celebrated for her beauty and 
 her misfortunes ? " 
 
 " I shan't tell you," said Gracie snappishly. 
 " If I do, I shan't be believed, but they'll all 
 
A Game of Characters, 20j 
 
 go and contradict me. I suppose I know what 
 I know ; and any of you might be proud if you 
 knew as much history as I do and had kept the 
 head of the class so long." 
 
 Gracie had for a moment forgotten how dis- 
 gracefully she had lost her place at the head 
 of the history class, but the silence that fol- 
 lowed her ill-tempered speech brought it back 
 to her and increased her vexation. 
 
 " You all think you know so much," she 
 said, throwing herself back sullenly in her 
 chair. 
 
 Bessie had begged Lily to bear with Gracie 
 and not to aggravate her as she seemed so 
 miserable and out of spirits, and Lily had 
 been very forbearing ; at least, so she thought. 
 But now her small stock of patience was quite 
 exhausted and she exclaimed vehemently : — 
 
 " Gracie, we try to stand you ; we do try 
 with all our might and main ; but you use up 
 every bit of standing there is in me ! " 
 
 This did not mend matters in Gracie's pres- 
 ent state of mind, but led to a pretty severe 
 
204 Jessie's Parrot » 
 
 quarrel between her and Lily which the others 
 vainly tried to heal, Lily being rather provok- 
 ing, and Gracie obstinately sullen and ill-tem- 
 pered. 
 
 It ended in a violent burst of tears from the 
 latter, and a declaration that she would go 
 home at once. But this was impossible, since 
 it was now evening ; and the children's sup- 
 per-time being near at hand, Mrs. Bradford 
 could not just then spare a servant to go home 
 with Gracie. 
 
 No soothing or coaxing proved of any avail, 
 nor did Lily's repentance ; for she was sorry 
 now that she had been provoking, and would 
 readily have kissed and made up if Gracie 
 could have been persuaded to do so. 
 
 Gracie said that she would not stay where 
 Lily was, and went sulkily upstairs to the 
 room where Maggie and Bessie slept. 
 
XI. 
 
 CONFESSION. 
 
 RACIE expected and wished to be 
 left to herself till it was time to go 
 home ; at least she thought she did, 
 and she had quite made up her mind that if 
 any one came and begged her to go down to 
 supper she would steadily refuse. 
 
 She stood there with all manner of unhappy 
 and wretched feelings, wishing vain and fruit- 
 less wishes, as she had so often done since she 
 had fallen into this sin, — that she had never 
 allowed Hattie to tempt her into doing what 
 she knew to be wrong ; that grandmamma had 
 never made this plan or offered to put a price 
 on the different pieces of work ; that she had 
 
2o6 yessie's Parrot, 
 
 never gone to the school, or that Nellie had 
 never belonged to it ; but still she did not think 
 of wishing that she had not thought so much 
 of herself or been so verj^ anxious above all 
 things to be first. 
 
 Poor Gracie ! Only those can tell how un- 
 happy she was who have themselves so fallen 
 and so suffered. There was no way out of her 
 trouble but by confessing all the truth, and she 
 could not bring herself to that. 
 
 She had not closed the door when she came 
 in, and presently she heard a gentle foot-fall, 
 then Bessie's soft voice, saying, '' Are you in 
 here, Gracie ? " 
 
 There was no light in the room save the 
 faint glimmer of moonlight which came 
 through the window, and as Gracie stood in 
 the shade, Bessie did not at first see her. 
 
 "Yes, I'm here, but I don't want any 
 supper, and I'm not coming down till I go 
 home," answered Gracie, not as ungraciously 
 as she had intended to speak, for somehow 
 she could not be disagreeable to dear Bessie, 
 
Confession, 207 
 
 " Supper is not quite ready yet, and you 
 shall have some up here if you had very much 
 rather not come down," said Bessie with a 
 coaxing tone in her voice ; " but you'd better 
 come down, Gracie. They're all very sorry 
 for you and don't think you meant to be cross, 
 'cause Nellie said she was sure something 
 troubled you for a good many days, or you 
 did not feel well, and that often made people 
 impatient, so we ought not to be mad at you." 
 
 Gracie made no answer, but presently Bessie 
 heard a low sob. 
 
 " Gracie, dear," she said, coming closer to 
 her little friend and putting her arms about 
 her neck, " something does trouble you, 
 doesn't it ? Couldn't you tell me what it is, 
 and let me see if I could comfort you ? Some- 
 times it makes people feel better to tell their 
 troubles and have some one feel sorry for 
 them." 
 
 Tiie caressing touch, the tender manner, 
 the earnest, pleading voice were too much for 
 Gracie, and, throwing herself down on a chair, 
 
208 yessie*s Parrot. 
 
 she buried her face in her arms and sobbed 
 bitterly. 
 
 Bessie let her cry for a moment, for the 
 wise little woman knew that tears often do 
 one good for a while, and contented herself 
 with giving soft touches to Grade's hair and 
 neck to let her know she was still beside her 
 and ready to give her her sympathy. 
 
 At last Gracie raised her head and said 
 brokenly, " Oh, Bessie, I am so bad ! I am so 
 wicked ! " 
 
 " I don't think being rather — rather — 
 well, rather cross, is so very wicked^'' said 
 Bessie, hesitating to give a hard name to 
 Grade's ill-temper, " and if you are sorry now 
 and will come downstairs, well all be very 
 glad to see you." 
 
 " Oh, it isn't that," sobbed Grade. '' Bessie, 
 if you knew what I've done, you'd hate me, 
 I know you would." 
 
 " No, I wouldn't," said Bessie. " I'd never 
 hate you. Grade. I'd only be sorry for you 
 and try to help you." 
 
Confession, 209 
 
 * 
 
 "You can't help me. No one can help 
 me," said Gracie, in a fresh paroxysm of 
 distress. 
 
 " Can't your mamma ? Mammas generally 
 can," said Bessie. 
 
 " No, not even mamma," answered Gracie. 
 " Oh, Bessie, I do feel as if it would be a kind 
 of relief to tell you ; but you'd hate me, you 
 couldn't help it; and so would every one 
 else." 
 
 " Every one else need not know it because 
 you tell me," said Bessie. " Tell Jesus, and 
 ask Him to help you, Gracie." 
 
 " Even He can't," said Gracie ; " at least — 
 at least — not unless I tell other people who 
 ought to know it." 
 
 "Do you mean He would want you to tell 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes, I s'pose so," almost whispered Gracie. 
 
 Bessie considered a moment. That Gracie 
 
 was full of a vain, foolish pride and self-conceit, 
 
 she knew; also that she was not the Gracie 
 
 of a year or two since ; but that she would 
 
 14 
 
4IO yessie's Parrot, 
 
 wrong any one she never dreamed, and she 
 could not imagine any cause for this great 
 distress. 
 
 " Gracie," she said, " I think hy what 
 you say that you must have done something to 
 me. I can't think what it can be ; but I prom- 
 ise not to be angry. I will be friends with 
 you all the same." 
 
 '• It was not you ; no, it was not you ; but, 
 Bessie, it was such a dreadful thing and so 
 mean that you never can bear me after you 
 know it. You are so very true yourself." 
 
 " Have you told a story ? " asked Bessie in 
 a troubled voice. 
 
 " Not told a story, but I acted one," sobbed 
 Gracie. " Bessie ! sit down here and let 
 me tell you. I can't keep it in any longer. 
 Maybe you'll tell me what to do ; but I know 
 what you'll say, and I can't do that.'' 
 
 Bessie did as she was requested, and, in as 
 few whispered words as possible, Gracie poured 
 her wretched story into her ears. 
 
 Bessie sprang to her feet, and her arms 
 
Confession, 21 1 
 
 wliich she had clasped about Grade's neck 
 fell away from it. It was as the latter had 
 feared ; this was so much worse than any thing 
 Bessie had expected, she was herself so truth- 
 ful and upright, that her whole soul was filled 
 with horror and dismay. No wonder that 
 Gracie was distressed. This was indeed 
 dreadful. 
 
 " I knew it, I knew it," said Gracie, bury- 
 ing her face again. " I knew you never could 
 bear me again. It seemed as if I couldn't 
 help telling you, Bessie ; but you never, never 
 will speak to me again. I wish — I wish — 
 oh, I almost wish I was an orphan and had no 
 one to care for me, so I could wish I was dead, 
 only I'm too bad to go to God." 
 
 Sympathy and pity were regaining their 
 place in Bessie's heart in spite of her horror 
 and indignation at what Gracie had done, and 
 once more she sat down beside her and tried to 
 soothe and comfort. 
 
 She succeeded in part at least. Grade's sobs 
 grew less violent, and she let Bessie persuade 
 
212 yessie's Parrot. 
 
 her to raise her head. Then they sat side by 
 side, Bessie holding her hand. 
 
 " What would you do, Bessie ? " asked Grade. 
 " I know I ought to tell, but I don't see how I 
 can. It will be such a disgrace, and all the 
 girls will have to know, and IVe made such a 
 fuss about myself, and always thought I never 
 could do any thing that was very bad. And 
 now this." 
 
 And now this ! 
 
 Yes, after all her boasting, after all her 
 self-confidence, her belief that she could not 
 and would not fall into greater sin through her 
 own conceit and vanity. 
 
 Bessie knew all this ; knew how confideiit 
 Gracie had been in her own strength ; knew 
 what a bitter shame and mortification it must 
 be to have this known ; knew that it must be long 
 before she could regain the trust and respect of 
 her schoolmates after this thing should once be 
 told. During the last few months Gracie had 
 lost much of the liking and affection of her 
 little friends ; but not one among them would 
 
Confession, 213 
 
 have believed her capable of deliberate deceit 
 or of that which was not strictly honest. 
 
 Ah ! it was a great and terrible fall. Bessie 
 felt this as well as Gracie. 
 
 But she knew also that there was but one 
 thing for Gracie to do ; but one way in which 
 she could have any peace or comfort once 
 more. 
 
 Bessie was not the child for Gracie to put 
 confidence in, if she expected advice that was 
 not plain and straightforward. 
 
 " What %hall I do, Bessie ? " she repeated. 
 
 " I think you'll have to tell, dear," said the 
 pitying little voice beside her. 
 
 Gracie actually shrank in a kind of terror 
 at the thought ; and yet she had known that 
 this was what Bessie would say. 
 
 " Oh ! I can't, I can't ; I never can," she 
 moaned. 
 
 " But, Gracie, dear," said the little monitrcss, 
 " I don't think you will ever feel happy and 
 comfortable again till you do ; and Jesus is 
 displeased with you all the time till you do it. 
 
214 Jessie^s Parrot. 
 
 If you told about it and tried to make it up to 
 Nellie, then He would be pleased with you 
 again. And then you could have comfort in 
 that even if people were rather cross to you 
 about it. And, Gracie, Maggie and I will not 
 be offended with you. I know Maggie wiU 
 not ; and we'll coax the other girls not to tease 
 you or be unkind to you about it." 
 
 " Don't you think it was so very wicked in 
 me then ? " asked Gracie. " Bessie ! you 
 are such a good child, I don't believe you ever 
 have wicked thoughts. You don't know how 
 hard it is sometimes not to do wrong when 
 you want to do it very much, — when a 
 very, very great temptation comes, like this." 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie, " I think I do, Gracie. 
 And you are very much mistaken when you 
 say I never have naughty thoughts. I have 
 them very often, and the only way I can make 
 them go is, to ask Jesus to help me, and to 
 keep asking Him till they do go, and the temp- 
 tation too. Perhaps, when you had the temp- 
 tation to do this you did not remember to ask 
 
Confession, 2i< 
 
 " No, I did not," said Gracie. " But, Bes- 
 sie, it never seemed to me that I could do a 
 thing that was not quite true and honest. And 
 I suppose it has come because I thought too 
 much of myself and wanted too much to have 
 my work the best. It was not that I cared 
 about the money, for you know that was for 
 Jessie and her grandfather ; but I wanted 
 every one to say mine was the best ; and it 
 made me so mad that any one should say 
 Nellie's was better than mine. If I had not 
 cared so very much, Hattie would not have per- 
 suaded me, for I did know it was horribly 
 mean. You never had a temptation like this, 
 Bessie." 
 
 " I don't know," said Bessie slowly. " I 
 think I once had one something like it. Don't 
 you remember, Gracie, that time you lost your 
 prize composition and we found it in the 
 drawer of the hall-table ? " 
 
 '' Yes," answered Gracie, " and how cross 
 I was about it, and how hateful to you and 
 Maggie.'* 
 
2x6 yessie^s Parrot. 
 
 " Well," said Bessie, " I had a very hard 
 temptation that time. I found the composi- 
 tion first, and I wanted to leave it there and 
 not tell any one, 'cause I wanted Maggie to 
 have the prize so much ; and at first it did not 
 seem so very wrong to me, and I tried to think 
 I ought not to tell, because then my own 
 Maggie could have the prize ; but I did not 
 feel sure about it, so I asked Jesus to let me 
 see what I ought to do, and then I saw it 
 quite plain, and knew I must take the composi- 
 tion to you. But it was a dreadful temptation, 
 Gracie." 
 
 " Yes," said Gracie with a sigh, feeling 
 deeply the difference between herself and her 
 dear little playmate who had so bravely 
 resisted temptation. For she knew how very 
 anxious Bessie had been that Maggie should 
 gain the prize. 
 
 " But you did not do the thing you were 
 tempted to do," she said. " What would you 
 do if you had, Bessie ? " 
 
 " I should go right away and tell my mam> 
 
Confession. 217 
 
 ma ; and perhaps she could find some way to 
 help me out of it," said Bessie. " Anyway, 
 she ought to know, and she will tell you what 
 you ought to do." 
 
 " Oh, it will make mamma feel dreadfully," 
 said Gracie. " She was always telling me I 
 would fall into trouble some day because I 
 thought too much of myself; but, oh, dear! 
 she never could have believed I would do this. 
 Wouldn't you feel awfully, Bessie, if you had 
 done it ? " 
 
 Yes, indeed. Bessie felt that she should ; 
 it almost seemed to her that she should die if 
 she had such a weight on her mind and 
 conscience, and she felt for Gracie most 
 deeply. 
 
 But still she knew that Gracie would never 
 feel right again till she had made confession, 
 and she once more urged it upon her ; confes- 
 sion to God and man ; and at last Gracio 
 promised. 
 
 Promised with many tears and sobs ; but 
 that promise once given, she became in haste 
 
2i8 Jessies Parrot, 
 
 to have it over and to go home to her m^mma 
 at once. 
 
 " Ask your mamma to let me go home as 
 soon as she can, Bessie," she pleaded. " Tell 
 her I do not feel well, for I do not really. 
 My head aches and I feel all shaky, as if I 
 could not hold still ; and I don't want to see 
 any one down stairs again or to have any 
 supper." 
 
 Bessie was about to leave her to do as she 
 was asked, when Mrs. Bradford came in. 
 
 '' Gracie and Bessie," she said, " are you 
 here ? You were so long in coming that I 
 feared something was wrong. Will you not 
 come down and have some supper, Gracie ? " 
 
 Gracie did not speak, but held fast to 
 Bessie's hand. 
 
 " Mamma," said the little girl, " Gracie does 
 not feel well, and she would like to go home as 
 soon as you could send her. She's quite 
 trembling, mamma. I feel her." 
 
 Mrs. Bradford took Grade's hand in hers 
 and found that it was indeed cold and trem- 
 
Confession, 219 
 
 bling, while her temples were hot and throb- 
 bing ; for over-excitement and worry had made 
 her really ill, and the lady saw that she was 
 more fit for bed than for the supper-room. 
 
 She told Gracie she should go home immedi- 
 ately, and putting on her hat led her down 
 stairs, and calling Mr. Bradford, begged him 
 to take the poor little girl home and explain 
 matters to her mamma. 
 
 Gracie clung to Bessie for a good-night kiss, 
 whispering, " I will do it, Bessie ; no matter 
 what comes after, I will do it." 
 
 Mr. Bradford took her home, — it was not 
 far from his house, — talking cheerfully by the 
 way and trying to keep her amused ; but, 
 though Gracie felt he was kind, she hardly 
 knew what he was saying, her mind was so 
 taken up with the thought of the dreadful 
 secret she had to confess. 
 
 Mrs. Howard was startled, as was only 
 natural, to see her little girl coming home so 
 much before she had expected her; and Mr. 
 Bradford's assurance that he did not think 
 
220 yessie's Parrot. 
 
 there was much wrong with Gracie, and that 
 she would be well after a good night's sleep, 
 did not quiet her fears, especially when she 
 looked in Grade's face. 
 
 She quickly undressed her and put her to 
 bed ; but, longing as Gracie was to have her 
 confession over, she could not tell it while the 
 nurse was in the room ; and it was not until 
 she was safely in bed, and the woman sent to 
 prepare some medicine, that she gave vent to 
 the tears she had managed to keep back before 
 her. 
 
 " There, there, my darling," said her mother 
 soothingly. " You will be better soon. Do 
 not be frightened ; this is only a little nervous- 
 ness." 
 
 " mamma, mamma ! " cried poor Gracie ; 
 "you ought not to be so kind to me. You 
 don't know how bad, how very bad I am." 
 
 " Is there any thing especially wrong just 
 now, Gracie?" asked her mother gently. 
 
 "Yes, mamma; oh, yes. I have — T have 
 — put your head closer, mamma, and let me 
 
Confession, 221 
 
 whisper;" and then, with her face hidden 
 against her mother's shoulder, came the con- 
 fession, made with many bitter tears and 
 sobs. 
 
 Mrs. Howard was greatly shocked ; she 
 could hardly speak when she heard all. 
 
 *' Shall you ever be able to forgive me, 
 mamma ? " sobbed Gracie. '' I know, I know 
 you think me perfectly dreadful, but if you 
 could try me just this once, and see if I ever 
 do such a thing again. Indeed, I don't think 
 I could. I know I am not too good to do it, 
 as I thought I was before ; but I have felt so 
 dreadfully CA^er since I did it, I don't think I 
 could ever punish myself so again." 
 
 " I can believe that you have been very 
 unhappy, my child," said her mother ; " indeed 
 I have seen it, though I did not know the 
 cause. But you have need to ask a higher 
 forgiveness than mine." 
 
 "I will, mamma," said Gracie ; " but — but 
 — I suppose Nellie and the other children 
 ^ust be told ? " 
 
222 Jessicas Parrot. 
 
 " I fear so, Gracie," said her mother. 
 " Nellie must be righted and have her own 
 mat again, and I do not see how we are to 
 avoid having the rest of the children hear this 
 terrible thing also. I must see Miss Ash ton 
 in the morning and talk it over with her, and 
 we will arrange what is best to be done. But 
 now jou must try to be quiet and go to sleep. 
 You are over-excited and will be really ill, so 
 I can allow you to talk no more. But before 
 you sleep, my child, make your peace with your 
 Father in heaven, and ask Him to help you 
 to bear the punishment you have brought upon 
 yourself by your naughty pride and ambi- 
 tion." 
 
 Gracie obeyed her mother as well as she 
 was able ; and, truly repentant, we may hope, 
 at last fell into a troubled sleep. 
 
^;^g^ 
 
 XII. 
 
 THE FAIR. 
 
 jHE next day was Saturday, when there 
 was no school, so that Mrs. Howard 
 was able to see Miss Ashton and tell 
 her the sad story, quite early in the morning. 
 Miss Ashton was much grieved and sur- 
 prised ; for, as she told Mrs. Howard, although 
 she had known that Grade's high thoughts of 
 herself and belief that she was wiser and 
 better than any of her companions often led 
 her into exaggeration, yet she could not have 
 believed her capable of any thing that was 
 really mean and dishonorable. 
 
 She was distressed, too, at the thought of the 
 exposure and mortification which must follow ; 
 
224 yesste^s Parrot. 
 
 for it seemed necessary, for Nellie's sake, that 
 not only Grandmamma Howard, but the whole 
 school should know the truth. She and Mrs. 
 Howard talked it all over for some time, but 
 neitlier of the two ladies saw any way to avoid 
 this disgrace for Glracie. They would willingly 
 have spared her the punishment, if possible, 
 for she had already suffered severely, and she 
 seemed so truly humble and repentant that her 
 mother did not believe there was much fear 
 she would again fall into this sin. 
 
 Mrs. Howard had thought last night that 
 perhaps she ought to deprive Gracie of any 
 share in the fair ; but that must make her 
 disgrace very well known, and now she hoped 
 that there was no need of further punishment 
 to make her see and feel her great fault. 
 
 And now Grandmamma Howard must be 
 seen and told the sad story. Mrs. Howard 
 Knew that she would be much distressed that 
 her kind plan should turn out so badly. 
 Neither Grade's mamma nor Miss Ashton had 
 quite approved of that plan; especially on 
 
The Fair, 2^5 
 
 Grade's account, but thej could not well say 
 so and cross the good old lady. 
 
 It was as they had feared. Grandmamma 
 "was very much grieved and disturbed to know 
 that what she had intended to be a help and a 
 kindness, had only proved a source of trouble, 
 and an encouragement to Gracie's besetting 
 sin. 
 
 There yet remained to Mrs. Howard the 
 still more painful task of telling Nellie how 
 she had been wronged. She would have 
 thought it right to make Gracie do this her 
 self, had it not been that the child was really 
 ill that morning, and in no state for further 
 excitement ; and it was not just to Nellie to 
 put off the confession any longer. 
 
 Nellie was filled with amazement. Much as 
 she had wondered over the unfortunate spot 
 upon the mat she supposed to be hers, she had 
 never dreamed of a thing like this, nor had 
 she the least suspicion of the truth. Indeed, 
 how should she ? 
 
 She was a quiet child, with a more wise and 
 15 
 
226 yessze's Parrot. 
 
 thoughtful little head than those who did not 
 know her well would have given her credit 
 for; but words did not come to her very 
 readily, and, after the first surprise was over, 
 she only said to Mrs. Howard, with the tears 
 in her eyes, — 
 
 " Please tell Gracie I am not angry with 
 her, and hope she will be friends with me 
 once more. Let's try not to think about it 
 any more than we can help; will you, Mrs. 
 Howard ? " 
 
 Generous, forgiving Nellie ! How ashamed 
 Gracie felt when her mother told her this, and 
 she contrasted Nellie's conduct with her own. 
 
 She lay upon her little bed that afternoon, 
 feeling wretched both in mind and body, 
 though it was a relief to remember that she 
 had confessed all to mamma, and that she had 
 set her face toward the right way once more, 
 when Mrs. Howard came in bringing Nellie 
 with her. 
 
 Poor Gracie gave a low sob, and covered her 
 face with her hands in utter sliame and di&- 
 
The Fair, 227 
 
 tress, feeling as if she could not bear to have 
 Nellie look at her. 
 
 But in a moment Nellie was beside her, 
 saying,— 
 
 " Don't, Grade ; please don't. You needn't 
 feel so very badly about it now. I don't care 
 much, and we'll make it all up." 
 
 " Oh, Nellie, Nellie ! I don't deserve you to 
 be so kind to me," sobbed Gracie. " I was 
 so hateful to you and so jealous, and it seemed 
 as if 1 could not bear to have you go before 
 me in any thing. I know I've been just too 
 hateful to you." 
 
 " Well, never mind now," said Nellie. 
 
 Mrs. Howard had gone out and left the two 
 children together. 
 
 " I can't help minding," said Gracie ; " and, 
 only think, Nellie, all the other girls in the 
 school will have to know, and it will shame 
 me almost to death. I hope, I hope mamma 
 will never make me go back to school, and I 
 mean to stay away from the fair, any way." 
 
 " That is what I came to see you about," 
 
228 Jessicas Parrot, 
 
 said Nellie. '' The girls need not know, 
 Gracie. You see my — your ^- the mat with 
 the ink-spot on it is nearly finished now, so I 
 have done about as much work on one as on the 
 other. And I don't care so very much about 
 having mine called the best, for the money 
 will do Jessie and her grandfather just as 
 much good, no matter who earns it. So if 
 each of us finishes the one she has now, it 
 will be all the same, and the rest of the 
 children need never know it. I am sure, 
 Gracie, I should feel just as you do, and never 
 want to come back to school again or see any 
 of our class if I had done this, and I know 
 just how badly you must feel. So I thought 
 about it, and it seemed to me it would come 
 right again if we just went on with the work 
 as if this had not been found out ; I mean if 
 you had not told. I'd rather no one would 
 know it but just those who know now. Don't 
 you think we could arrange it so, Gracie ? 
 Your mother gave me leave to tell you this, 
 and says she would be very glad for you if it 
 
The Fair, 229 
 
 can be done, and she thinks Miss Ashton will 
 be wiUing." 
 
 To hear the earnest, wistful voice one might 
 have supposed that generous, great-hearted 
 Nellie was pleading for some great boon for 
 herself. 
 
 But she could not tell all that Gracie felt. 
 No, indeed ; she did not know what coals of 
 fire she was heaping on her head ; how per- 
 fectly humbled and remorseful she felt as she 
 remembered all the hard thoughts she had 
 cherished toward her ; the unkind words and 
 unjust actions of which she had been guilty ; 
 all forgotten now, it seemed, by Nellie, who 
 was only anxious to make the path of repent- 
 ance as easy as possible to her, and to avoid 
 all unnecessary shame and exposure to the one 
 who had so greatly injured her. 
 
 With many sobs and broken words she told 
 Nellie all that was in her heart, beseeching 
 her forgiveness, and thanking her over and 
 over for her consideration and sweet thought- 
 fulness ; not that she put it in just such words, 
 
230 yesste's Parrot. 
 
 but in those that were very simple and very 
 touching to Nellie. 
 
 So peace was made between them, — a peace 
 that was sure to be lasting and true where 
 there was such sincere repentance on one side, 
 such good will and hearty forgiveness on the 
 other. 
 
 Grandmamma Howard was only too glad 
 on Grade's account to accept Nellie's generous 
 proposal. 
 
 Miss Ashton also agreed that the matter 
 should go no further, and so it was arranged, 
 and further disgrace to Gracie avoided, al- 
 though the weight of shame and remorse was 
 not readily lifted from her heart, and she felt 
 as if her schoolmates must know her secret 
 and that she dared scarcely look them in the 
 face. 
 
 They all wondered at the new humility and 
 modesty which she now began to show ; but 
 the change was an agreeable one, and drew 
 forth no unkind remarks. 
 
 A prettier sight than Miss Ashton's garden 
 
The Fair, 231 
 
 and piazza on that lovely June afternoon when 
 the long-talked -of fair took place, would have 
 been hard to find. Kind friends had decked 
 the spot tastefully ; flowers were everywhere 
 in abundance ; the tables conveniently and 
 becomingly arranged ; and the display of arti- 
 cles upon them was not only tempting, but 
 such as had been manufactured by the children 
 did them wonderful credit. Flags, ribbons, 
 wreaths, and festoons, all joined to make the 
 scene gay ; and in and out, among and below 
 them flitted the white-robed " little sunbeams," 
 who lent the fairest life and brightness to the 
 scene. 
 
 '• Sunbeams " they all were that day, indeed. 
 No cloud appeared to darken their happiness, 
 no ill-temper, jealousy, or desire to outvie one 
 another was heard or seen. Even Gracie and 
 Hattie, who were each rather oppressed with 
 the sense of past naughtiness, and the feeling 
 of what the others would say and think if they 
 knew all, could not but be bright and gay 
 amid this pleasant companionship. 
 
232 yessie^s Parrot. 
 
 Grade had told Hattie that she had con- 
 fessed her sin to her mother, and the latter 
 knew that some share of blame must have 
 fallen to her ; so, although she did not look 
 upon it in as serious a light as Gracie did, she 
 had an uncomfortable and conscious feeling. 
 Miss Ashton had talked to her more seriously 
 than she had ever done before, and had also 
 informed her parents of what had taken place, 
 telling them that she did not wish to disgrace 
 Hattie, and so, as it was near the close of 
 school, she would not ask them to remove her 
 now ; but that she could not take her back in 
 the fall. Hattie's utter disregard of truth had 
 already brought too much trouble into her 
 little flock for her to risk any further mischief 
 from that source. 
 
 Hattie's parents had been much mortified 
 and displeased, and the child herself had been 
 severely punished ; but I doubt if the punish- 
 ment had been altogether just ; for how was 
 the child who saw equivocation and deceit used 
 at home as a means of family government 
 
The Fair, 233 
 
 when convenience demanded it, to learn the 
 vahie of the jewel thus sullied, or to judge of 
 the line where it was believed that falsehood 
 must stop and truth and uprightness begin ? 
 
 As for generous Nellie, she seemed to have 
 no recollection of what had passed, unless it 
 was in the new and caressing tenderness of 
 her manner toward Gracie ; not a patronizing 
 manner, but one full of encouragement and 
 helpfulness. 
 
 The other children wondered not only at 
 Gracie's new gentleness and modesty, but also 
 at the sudden intimacy which seemed to have 
 sprung up between these two. 
 
 "Maybe," said Lily privately, "it is because 
 Gracie is learning to think better of her- 
 self" — Avhich was just the opposite from what 
 Lily meant — " and Nellie's trying to help her." 
 
 " Yes," said Maggie ; " perhaps Gracie is 
 learning it is ' never too late to mend,' which 
 would make her much more agreeable, and 
 other people would think more of her. I do 
 think she is improved." 
 
234 yessiVs Parrot, 
 
 Maggie had yielded not alone to the persua- 
 sions of Miss Ashton, but also to an earnest 
 appeal from Gracie, and accepted once more 
 the title of Queen. And very well she became 
 it, standing in front of her throne — which 
 she could not be persuaded to occupy — within 
 the pretty bower into which one end of the 
 piazza had been turned, according to her ideas. 
 Bessie, Belle, and Lily were her '' maids of 
 honor," and helped her to sell the bouquets 
 and baskets of flowers with which she was 
 bountifully supplied ; and they drove a thriving 
 trade ; for so many sweet smiles, bright looks, 
 and winning words went with the flowers that 
 the stock within the " Queen's Bower " was 
 much in demand. She had her band of music 
 too, for half a dozen canary-birds hung within 
 and around the bower, and, excited by the 
 laughter and chatter about them, seemed to try 
 which could sing the loudest and sweetest. 
 
 Jessie's parrot was on exhibition, lent by 
 his present owner for the occasion, down in 
 the old summer-house at the end of the gar- 
 
The Fair, 235 
 
 den, where Jessie herself took the ten cents 
 admission fee, and made him display all his 
 accomplishments. 
 
 k nd the Doll ! She must have a capital 
 letter to do justice to her perfections. Of all 
 the dolls that ever were seen or heard or 
 thought of, that doll surely took the lead. It 
 would be of no use for me to describe her or 
 her toilet, for if you should ever see her, 
 you would surely tell me that I had not told 
 one half. 
 
 It was nearly the hour at which the fair wag 
 " to begin," and the children were all gathered 
 about the table on which she was displayed, 
 when there came a ring at the front door-bell. 
 
 Away fluttered every little saleswoman to 
 her appointed stand, hoping that this might be 
 the first customer. 
 
 And so it proved ; for it was no less a person 
 than old Mrs. Howard, who had purposely 
 timed her arrival so that she might be thero 
 before any other person. 
 
 " Well, my dears," she said, looking round 
 
236 yesste's Parrot, 
 
 upon the smiling young faces about her, " this 
 is a pretty sight. And, industrious as I know 
 you have been, and kind as your friends have 
 been, I should hardly have thought it possible 
 that you should have made such a fine show 
 on your tables. But you know I have some 
 especial business with you, and I have come 
 early that we may have it over before the rush 
 begins." 
 
 This was very encouraging. Mrs. Howard 
 thought it probable they would have " a rush " 
 of customers, and who should know better 
 than she ? 
 
 " You remember I offered six prizes for 
 different articles to be worked for me," con- 
 tinued the old lady, " but there are only four 
 finished, as you know. My little grand- 
 daughter, Gracie, felt that she had not 
 displayed a proper spirit about them, and 
 she decided not to finish hers for the fair, 
 but to leave it and complete it for me after- 
 wards." 
 
 This had been Grade's own proposal to 
 
The Fair. 237 
 
 her mother and grandmother, and they had 
 allowed her to have her own way, thinking 
 that this willingness to put herself behind the 
 others, and to give up even the show of strife 
 with Nellie, told of a spirit of true repentance, 
 as indeed it did. When the other children 
 had asked with much surprise where her mat 
 was, she had answered quietly that she could 
 not finish it. This had not proved any loss 
 to the fair, because the time she would have 
 devoted to the mat had been given to other 
 articles. 
 
 " Here, then," continued Mrs. How^ard, " are 
 two toilet sets and two mats for me to judge 
 between. Of the latter, the one Nellie Ran- 
 som brings is certainly the best in point of 
 work ; but it has unfortunately received a bad 
 ink-stain. Now those of us wdio know Nellie 
 are very sure that this has not come through 
 any neglect or carelessness of her own, and 
 since she did not do it herself it seems hard 
 that she should suffer for it. I should be quite 
 willing to overlook it, for this is really the 
 
238 yessie's Parrot, 
 
 best piece of work among the four ; but I 
 cannot do so unless the others are willing. 
 Those among you who think Nellie ought not 
 to be a loser by this misfortune, raise your 
 hands." 
 
 Instantly every little hand was raised, and 
 if one were before another it was Gracie's. 
 
 " Very well ; that is satisfactory," said Mrs. 
 Howard. '' Nellie, my dear, here are ten dollars 
 for your mat, the first money taken in for 
 your fair. The second sum, I think, must go 
 to Maggie's toilet set — ah! yes, Maggie's and 
 Bessie's, I should have said," as she saw the 
 look which Maggie turned upon her sister, 
 as if wishing that she should have her full 
 share of credit — "the third to Dora's mat, 
 and the fourth to Hattie's toilet set. You 
 are all satisfied, I trust, with this arrange- 
 ment." 
 
 There was a murmur of assent, and this 
 part of the business was settled. 
 
 " And now," said Mrs. Howard, " I want to 
 say that I think I made a mistake in offering 
 
The Fair, 239 
 
 these rates of prices, and so exciting you to 
 outvie one another. I meant to give you a 
 motive for trying to improve yourselves, but I 
 believe it was not a good principle to set you 
 thus one against the other, and I know that it 
 has led to some hard feeling and unkindness. 
 But that, I trust, is now all healed, and I shall 
 take care not to put such temptation in your 
 way again." 
 
 The children all thought they knew what 
 Mrs. Howard meant, and with true courteous- 
 ness they all avoided looking at Gracie. 
 
 But this was as much as was ever known by 
 any of them, save the two or three who had 
 been in the secret, of Gracie's temptation and 
 fall. That she had been jealous and unkind 
 to Nellie, they had all seen ; that she had gone 
 further and been led into deceit and meanness, 
 they never heard. Hattie, for her own sake, 
 held her peace for once ; and penitent Gracie 
 had not to face the scorn and wonder of all 
 her schoolmates. 
 
 After this^ Mrs. Howard went al^out from 
 
240 Jessies Parrot. 
 
 table to taule, purchasing not only one article, 
 but generally two or three, from each little 
 saleswoman ; but she said she would not 
 remove them till the fair was over, so that 
 they might still add to the appearance of their 
 tables. They were all marked SOLD in 
 enormous, staring letters, that there might be 
 no possibility of mistake. 
 
 And now, customer after customer began to 
 flock in, and among the earlier arrivals came 
 Mr. Powers, who was immediately seized upon 
 by Belle, and led to the table where the baby 
 doll lay in her glory. 
 
 Now it had been announced that whoever 
 offered the highest price for this famous infant 
 was to have her, and it was not to be told till 
 the close of the fair who had done this. The 
 names of would-be purchasers, with the amount 
 each offered, were written down by Miss Annie 
 Stanton, who still held the doll in charge, 
 lest too eager little hands should mar her 
 beauties. 
 
 " Please offer a whole lot, papa ; I do want 
 
The Fair, 241 
 
 her so," said Belle. "Isn't she lovely? Did 
 you ever see such a doll ? " 
 
 Mr. Powers expressed all the admiration he 
 thought needful, which did not nearly satisfy 
 Belle, who was only half consoled by what she 
 thought a want of proper interest by Maggie's 
 whispered assurance that men " never did 
 appreciate dolls, and it was quite useless to 
 expect it of them. It did not seem to be born 
 in them." 
 
 However, Mr. Powers put down his name 
 and the sum he would give, which last re- 
 mained for the present a secret between him 
 and Miss Annie Stanton. 
 
 Mamie Stone was as eager about the doll 
 as Belle, and her mamma was called upon also 
 to offer a high price for the treasure. 
 
 But my "Sunbeam" would lengthen itself 
 far beyond its sister rays if I should tell you 
 all that took place at the fair. Enough to say 
 that it was a great success, and that a sum 
 was taken in that was more than sufficient to 
 purchase Jessie's parrot back and to provide 
 16 
 
242 yesste^s Parrot, 
 
 a comfortable home for herself and her 
 grandfather for at least a year to come. 
 That is, with what the little girl might hope 
 to make herself by the further sale of her 
 wares. 
 
 Evening came, bringing with it the great 
 interest of the day, the announcement of the 
 munificent purchaser of the doll, and every 
 little heart beat high with hope that it might 
 be some friend of her own, who would bestow 
 the coveted prize upon her. 
 
 It proved to be Grandmamma Howard. 
 
 Belle stood in an agony of expectation, 
 squeezing her father's hand and scarcely 
 breathing in the hush that came before the 
 name was spoken ; and when she heard " Mrs. 
 Howard," a rush of color dyed her face, and 
 a look of blank disappointment overspread it. 
 She looked up and caught her father's gaze 
 fixed anxiously upon her. She dashed her 
 little hand across her eyes to scatter the tears 
 that would well up, and, forcing a smile, said 
 with a trembling lip, " Never mind, papa ; 
 
The Fair, 243 
 
 you meant me to have it, so it was just as 
 good of you." 
 
 Her father stooped and kissed her, rejoicing 
 in her sweetness and determined good temper. 
 A little more than a year since, a tempest of 
 tears and sobs would have broken from his 
 over-indulged child ; but now she had learned 
 to control herself and to be contented and 
 pleasant even when things did not go quite her 
 own way. She was all smiles and brightness 
 again in a few minutes, nearly consoled for 
 her disappointment by her papa's caress and 
 his few whispered words of blessing. 
 
 All believed that Gracie or one of her little 
 sisters would be presented with the doll by 
 her grandmother; and great, therefore, was 
 the amazement of the circle of young friends 
 when the next day it was rumored, then made 
 certain, that Mrs. Howard had sent it to Nellie 
 Ransom. 
 
 Every child wondered " why," and so did 
 more than one grown person ; for the Howards 
 
244 Jessies Parrot, 
 
 and the Ransoms were not, as Maggie said, 
 "very intimate, and it was rather surprising 
 Mrs. Howard should think of giving such a 
 present to Nellie. But she seems to have 
 taken a great fancy to her, and Nellie quite 
 deserves it," she added. 
 
 " I wonder if she gave it to her because of 
 the mat," said Mamie Stone. 
 
 "I think it was because she is such a 
 serious child," said Lily. " I find old people 
 like seriosity^ and Nellie has a great deal of 
 it." 
 
 So they judged, these little ones. Nellie, 
 gentle, unobtrusive "little sunbeam" that she 
 was, went on her quiet way, shedding lighfc 
 and warmth in many an unsuspected nook and 
 corner, and bringing now and then some 
 hidden seed to blossom in beauty and fra- 
 grance. 
 
 Only one of her schoolmates ever suspect- 
 ed that it was her thoughtful care for Grade's 
 character and feelings, her sweet forgiving 
 
The Fair. 
 
 24S^ 
 
 spirit which led her to forget past injuries, 
 which had won for her the gift of the much 
 coveted doll, and given her a high place in the 
 love and admiration of the few who knew all 
 the storj. 
 
530 Broadway, New- York. ' 
 
 <<o\^ NEW ^ BOOKS, -<o^ 
 
 NOBODY. A story by the author of the "Wide, Wide 
 World." i2mo . , $i-7S 
 
 "Her style is felicitous, her humor delicate, her pathos sincere. If we mus€ 
 have novels, commend us to such a story as "Nobody," which leaves in the lips 
 of the reader a taste of sweetness, and upon his breath an odor of fragrance." 
 —Morning Star. 
 
 UNIFORM WITH AND BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 X. MY DESIRE. A Story, izmo $1.75 
 
 s. THE END OF A COIL, A Story. i2mo 1.75 
 
 3. THE LETTER OF CREDIT. A Story. i2mo , 1.73 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 The Say and Do Series. 6 vols. $7.50 
 Story of Small Beginnings. 4 
 
 vols 5.00 
 
 King's People, 5 vols 7.00 
 
 Stories of Vinegar Hill. 3 vols.. 3.00 
 
 Ellen Montgomery's Bookshelf. 
 
 5 vols 5.00 
 
 THE OLD HELMET 2.23 
 
 MELBOURNE HOUSE 2.00 
 
 Pine Needles 1.50 
 
 Fifteen; or, Lydia's Happenings. By Mrs. Jennie M. 
 Drinkwater Conklin. i2mo ,,,,,,,., 1.50 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline. I Rue's Helps. i2mo...4*4. 1.50 
 
 i2mo $1.50 I Electa. A Story. i2mo 1.50 
 
 Under the Shield. A Tale. By M, E. Winchester. i2mo. 1. 50 
 
The Red and White. An Historical Tale. By Emily Sarah 
 Holt. i2mo c 1.50 
 
 At Ye Grene Griffin. By Emily Sarah Holt. i6mo i.oo 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 Isoult Barry. i2mo $1-5° 
 
 Robin Tremayne. i2mo 150 
 
 The Well in the Desert. i6mo.. 1.25 
 
 Ashcliffe Hall. i6mo 1.25 
 
 Verena. A Tale. i2mo 1.50 
 
 The White Rose of Langley. i2mo 1.50 
 
 Imogen. i2mo 1.5° 
 
 Clare Avery. i2mo 1.5° 
 
 Lettice Eden. i2mo $1.5° 
 
 For the Master's Sake. i6mo .... i.oo 
 
 Margery's Son. i2mo 1.50 
 
 Lady Sybil's Choice. 12010 1.50 
 
 The Maiden's Lodge. i2mo 1.25 
 
 Earl Hubert's Daughter. i2mo.. 1.50 
 
 Joyce Morrell's Harvest. i2mo.. 1.50 
 
 De«iima's Promise. By Agnes Giberne 1.25 
 
 Twilight Talks; or, Early Lessons on Things about us. 
 By Agnes Giberne. i6mo 75 
 
 Jacob Witherby; or, The Need of Patience. By Agnes 
 Giberne. i6mo 60 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 The World's Foundations ; or, Geology for Beginners. Illus. ismo 1.50 
 
 Sweetbriar ; or, Doings in Priorsthorpe Manor. i2mo 1.50 
 
 Through the Linn. i6mo ^ 1-25 
 
 Aimee. A Tale of James IT. i6mo.$i.5o Coulyng Castle. i6mo 1.50 
 
 The Day Star; or, Gospel Stories. 1.25 Muriel Bertram. i6mo 1.50 
 
 The Curate's Home. i6mo 1.25 The Sun, Moon, and Stars. i2mo. 1.50 
 
 Floss Silverthome. i6mo 1.25 Duties and Duties. i6mo 1.25 
 
 Nearer to Jesus. Memorials of Robert Walter Fergus. 
 By his mother. With an introduction by Rev. J. Oswald 
 Dykes, D. D 75 
 
 Little Bullets and Seven Perils Passed by A. L. O. E. 
 l6mo. Illustrated !•»* 
 
The Wondrous Sickle, By A. L. O. E. i6mo..T. 75 
 
 Cared For. By C. E. Bowen. i8mo 50 
 
 The Orphan Wanderers. Containing "Cared For" and 
 " How a Farthing made a Fortune." Illus. i6mo i.oo 
 
 Heroic Adventure. Chapters in recent Exploration and 
 Discovery. Illustrated. i2mo 
 
 Only a Cousin, By Catharine Shaw 1,25 
 
 Lonely Jack and his Friend. By Emily Brodie 1.25 
 
 Seeketh Not Her Own. By M. Sitwell 1.25 
 
 Cripple Jess, the Hop-Picker's Daughter i.oo 
 
 Jill and Jack. A Story of To-Day i.oo 
 
 A Little Wild Flower 60 
 
 Bennie, the King's Little Servant 50 
 
 The Story of a Shell. By the Rev. J. R. Macduff, D. D. 
 
 Rex and Regina. By Mrs. Marshall 1.50 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 Dew Drops and Diamonds $1.50 
 
 Stories of Cathedral Cities 1.50 
 
 Ruby and Pearl 1.25 
 
 Framilode Hall 50 
 
 Stellafont Abbey i.oo 
 
 Between the Cliffs i.oo 
 
 The Primrose Series. 6 vols.... 3.00 
 The Violet and Lily Series. 6 vols. 3.00 
 
 Chip of the Old Block 50 
 
 Little Brothers and Sisters i. 25 
 
 Matthew Frost i.oo 
 
 BITS FROM BLINKBONNY; or, Bell o' the Manse. 
 i2nio. 6 illustrations 1. 50 
 
 THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE; or, Lessons on Acts. 
 
 > New Edition. i2mo. (In Dec.) J. 50 
 
 THE HUMAN MIND. A Treatise on Mental Philosophy. 
 By Edward John Hamilton, D. D. 8vo 3.00 
 
 3 
 
MOSES AND THE PROPHETS. A Review of Rob- 
 ertson Smith and Kuenen. By Professor Green, of Prince- 
 ton. i2mo I.^O 
 
 GOD'S LIGHT ON DARK CLOUDS. By Theodore 
 L. Cuyler, D. D. Very neat. Limp 75 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 From the Nile to Norway. .$1.50 
 Thought Hives. With Portrait. 1.50 
 Pointed Papers. i2mo 1.50 
 
 The Empty Crib. 24100. Gilt, i.oo 
 
 Stray Arrows. i8mo 60 
 
 Cedar Christian. i8mo 75 
 
 Hugh Miller's Works. 
 
 The 12 volumes in 6. Neat cloth 9.00 
 
 "Was there ever a more delightful style than that in which his works are 
 written? His essays wed the elegance of Addison with the strength of Carlyle." 
 ^Rev. Dr. W. M. Taylor. 
 
 -*- 
 
 GLEAMS FROM THE SICK CHAMBER. Macduff. .75 
 
 MANIFESTO OF THE KING. An Exposition of the 
 Sermon on the Mount. By Rev. J. Oswald Dykes, D.D. . . 2.00 
 
 SERMONS. By J. Oswald Dykes, D. D. i2mo 1.50 
 
 COVENANT NAMES AND PRIVILEGES. A series 
 of Discourses. By the Rev. Richard Newton, D. D. Portrait. 1.50 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 The Jewel Case. 6 vols 7.50 
 
 The Wonder Case. 6 vols 7.50 
 
 Rays from the Sun of Righteousness 1.25 
 
 The King in His Beauty 1.25 
 
 Pebbles from the Brook 1.25 
 
 4 
 
New and Cheap Editions. 
 
 — *— 
 
 MORNING BY MORNING. Daily Readings. By Rev. 
 C. H. Spurgeon. i2mo $i.oo 
 
 "We have carefully read this book, and we say, advisedly, that we know not 
 where to look for another such store of rich experimental religion within the same 
 compass. ' ' — Freeman. 
 
 EVENING BY EVENING ; or, Readings at Eventide. 
 By Rev. C. H. Spurgeon. i2mo i.oo 
 
 TYPES AND EMBLEMS. By the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon. 
 i2mo I.OO 
 
 JOHN PLOUGHMAN'S TALK. By the Rev. C. H. 
 Spurgeon. i6mo .75 
 
 GLEANINGS AMONG THE SHEAVES. By the 
 
 Rev. C. H. Spurgeon. i8mo 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF DOCTRINE IN THE NEW 
 TESTAMENT. By Bernard. i2mo 1.25 
 
 *D'AUBIGNE'S REFORMATION IN THE SIX- 
 TEENTH CENTURY. 5 vols, in one. 8vo i.oo 
 
 KRUMMACHER'S SUFFERING SAVIOUR. i2mo. i.oo 
 
 MACDUFF'S SUNSETS ON THE HEBREW 
 MOUNTAINS. i2mo i.oo 
 
 MACDUFF'S FAMILY PRAYERS. i6mo. Reduced to i.oo 
 
 PRIME'S F'ORTY YEARS IN THE TURKISH 
 EMPIRE. Life of Goodell. lamo .1.50 
 
 Dorothy Cope. Containing the " Old Looking-Glass " and 
 the "Broken Looking-Glass." By Miss Charlesworth. 
 i2ino 1.50 
 
 5 
 
The Claremont Series. By A. L. O. E. lo vols. i6mo. 
 
 In a box 8.50 
 
 Eddie Ellerslie $0.90 
 
 Claremont Tales 90 
 
 Christian's Mirror 90 
 
 Crov/n of Success 90 
 
 Christian Conquests 90 
 
 Christian's Panoply $0.90 
 
 Cortley Hall 90 
 
 Idols in the Heart 90 
 
 Needle and Rat 90 
 
 Stories on Parables 90 
 
 The Golden Library, A. 10 vols. i6mo 8.50 
 
 The Golden Library, B. 10 vols. i6mo 8.50 
 
 *THE OLIVE LIBRARY. 40 vols. i6mo. Wooden 
 Case. Net 25.00 
 
 — *- 
 
 A MARVEL OF CHEAPNESS. 
 
 DR. HANNA'S LIFE OF CHRIST. 
 
 Pica type, fine paper, 3 vols. i2mo, 2182 pp., neat cloth 2.50 
 
 New and Very Neat Editions of 
 
 MIND AND WORDS OF JESUS. 
 
 By Macduff. Limp, red edges, 50 cents. Gilt edges, 60 cents. 
 Superfine paper, red line edition, round corners, gilt edges, $1.00. 
 In full calf, gilt edges, $2.50. 
 
 MORNING AND NIGHT WATCHES, 
 
 By Macduff. Limp, red edges, 50 cents. Gilt edges, 60 cents. 
 Superfine paper, red line edition, round corners, gilt edges, $1.00. 
 In full calf, gilt edges, $2.50. 
 
 MIND AND WORDS AND MORNING AND NIGHT 
 WATCHES. In One Volume. 
 
 Red line edition, gilt edges, $1.50. Full calf, gilt edges, $3.50, 
 
 HANNAH MORE'S PRIVATE DEVOTION. 
 
 32mo. Limp, red edges, 50 cents. Gilt edges, 60 cents. 
 
 6 
 
DICKSON (REVo ALEXANDER, D. D.) 
 
 All about Jesus 2.00 
 
 Beauty for Ashes 2.00 
 
 " His book is a 'bundle of myrrh,' and v/ill be specially enjoyed by those who 
 are in trouble." — Rev. Dr. W. M. Taylor. 
 
 "Luscious as a honeycomb with sweetness drawn from God's word." — Rev. Dr. 
 Cuyler. 
 
 THE BEST COMMENTARY. 
 
 * MATTHEW HENRY'S COMMENTARY ON THE 
 
 BIBLE. 5 vols., quarto, sheep, $20.00. In cioth 15.00 
 
 Another edition, 9 volumes, 8vo, cloth 20.00 
 
 Rev. C. H. Spurgeon says : " First among the mighty for general usefulness 
 we are bound to mention the man whose name is a household word — Matthew 
 Henry." 
 
 Rev. Dr. Wm, M. Taylor says: "Among the valuable homiletical commenta- 
 ries is Matthew Henry's, which sparkles with jewels of wisdom and incisive 
 humor." 
 
 Rev. T. L. Cuyler, D. D., says : " Next to wife and children has lain near the 
 minister's heart the pored-over and prayed-over copy of his Matthew Heniy, king 
 of all Bible explorers yet." 
 
 Rev. Dr. Archibald Alexander says: "Taking it as a whole, and as adapted 
 to every class of readers, this Commentary may be said to combine more excellence 
 than any other work of the kind that was ever written in any language." 
 
 GUIDE TO FAMILY DEVOTION. By the Rev. Alexander 
 Fletcher, D. D. Royal quarto, with 10 steel plates (half morocco, 
 $7.50; Turkey morocco, $12), cloth, gilt, and gilt edges, $5.00. 
 
 "The more we look over the volume the more we admire it, and the more 
 heartily feel to commend it to families and devout Christians. It is emphatically a 
 book of devotion, from the standpoint of an intelligent, broad-minded Christian 
 minister, who has here expressed many of the deepest emotions and wants of the 
 soul. The selections of Scripture and the hymns are all admirably adapted to 
 increase devotion; and the prayers are such as can but aid the suppliant, even 
 when not uttered from his precise standpoint, and are especially valuable to many 
 heads of families who find it difficult to frame words for themselves in conducting 
 family worship. " — Journal and Messenger. 
 
 RYLE ON THE GOSPELS. 7 vols., i2mo 10.50 
 
 Matthew, $1.50. Mark, $1.50. Lztke, 2 vols., $3.00. John, 3 vols., $4.50. 
 
 " Those who are engaged in teaching others will find in them a treasury, full of 
 edifying and instructive suggestions." — Episcopal Register. 
 
 7 
 
KITTO'S BIBLE ILLUSTRATIONS. 8 vols., i2mo, 
 in a box, with complete index 7. 00 
 
 " I cannot lose this opportunity of recommending, in the strongest language 
 and most emphatic manner I can command, this invaluable series of books. I 
 believe for the elucidation of the historic parts of Scripture, there is nothing com- 
 parable with them in the English or any other language. " — J. A. James. 
 
 DR. HODGE'S COMMENTARIES. 4 vols 7.00 
 
 Corinthians, 2 vols., $3.50. Romans, $1.75. Ephesians, $1.75. 
 "Dr. Hodge's Commentaries ought to be in the hands of all readers of the 
 Bible, in families, in Sabbath-schools and Seminaries." — Observer. 
 
 HODGE'S (DR. A. A.) OUTLINES OF THEOLOGY. 
 8vo 3.00 
 
 * DR. McCOSH'S WORKS. 5 vols., Svo, uniform. Brown 
 cloth 10.00 
 
 * MURDOCH'S MOSHEIM'S ECCLESIASTICAL 
 
 HISTORY. 3 vols, in one 3.00 
 
 * POOL'S ANNOTATIONS UPON THE HOLY 
 BIBLE. 3 vols., Svo 7.50 
 
 *THE WORKS OF PRESIDENT EDWARDS. 4 
 vols., Svo 6.00 
 
 THE BOOK OF JOB. Illustrated. With fifty engrav- 
 ings after drawings by John Gilbert. In morocco, $7.50; 
 half calf, $6.00 ; cloth, gilt 4.50 
 
 COWPER'S TASK. Illustrated. With sixty superb de- 
 signs by BiRKET Foster. Printed on fine tinted paper; 
 elegantly bound in cloth, gilt 3.50 
 
 GRAY'S ELEGY. Illustrated pocket edition. Gilt edges. .50 
 
 VOICES OF HOPE AND GLADNESS. By Ray 
 
 Palmer, D. D. Illustrated. i2mo, gilt 1.50 
 
 SONGS OF THE SOUL. By Dr. Prime. Quarto, gilt. 5.00 
 
 Cheaper edition, i2mo $2.00. 
 
 8 
 
Recent Juveniles. 
 
 Alice Neville $i. 25 
 
 Between the Cliffs i.oo 
 
 Bible Echoes. IVells 1.25 
 
 Bible Children. JVells 1.25 
 
 Bible Images. i2mo. Wells... 1.25 
 
 Blackberry Jam. Mathews 1.25 
 
 Bobby aiid Rosie. i6mo i.oo 
 
 Bread and Oranges 1.25 
 
 Brentford Parsonage i. 25 
 
 Brighter than the Sun 2.00 
 
 Broken Mallet. Mathews 1.25 
 
 Broken Walls. War7ier 1.25 
 
 Captivity of Judah 60 
 
 Christie's Old Organ 50 
 
 Christie's Organ, Saved at Sea, 
 
 and Little Faith. i6mo i.oo 
 
 Comfort Strong 1.25 
 
 Doors Outward i . 25 
 
 Duties and Duties. Agnes Giberne 1.25 
 
 Eden in England 75 
 
 Eleanor's Visit. Mathews 1.25 
 
 Ella's Half Sovereign 1.25 
 
 Elsie's Santa Claus i. 25 
 
 Fan's Brother. Beatrice Marshall .50 
 
 Fighting the Foe 1.50 
 
 Flag of Truce. Warjier 1.25 
 
 Footsteps of St. Peter 2.00 
 
 Fred and Jeanie 1.25 
 
 Fritz's Victory 50 
 
 Gabled Farm 1.25 
 
 Giant-Killer and Sequel 1.25 
 
 Giants and Wonders 1.25 
 
 Giuseppe's Home 1. 10 
 
 Gold Thread 75 
 
 Golden Fleece 75 
 
 Grandmamma's Recollections 1.25 
 
 Haunted Rooms 75 
 
 Hebrew Heroes 75 
 
 Helen Hervey's Change 75 
 
 Heroism of Christian Women 1.50 
 
 Hero in the Battle 50 
 
 Hilda; or, Seeketh not Her Own. 1.25 
 His Grandchild i.oo 
 
 Home Lessons $1.25 
 
 Hosannas of the Children 1.50 
 
 House in the Glen 1,25 
 
 Indian Stories 75 
 
 Interpreter's House. i6mo 1.25 
 
 Jack o' Lantern 1.25 
 
 Jean Lindsay. Brodie 1.25 
 
 Katy and Jim. Mathews i. 25 
 
 Leaders of Men. Page. i2mo.. 1.50 
 
 Little Brothers and Sisters 1.25 
 
 Little Friends at Glenwood 1.25 
 
 Little Lights along Shore 1.25 
 
 Little Maid. A. L. O. E 75 
 
 Little Mother Mattie 1.25 
 
 Little and Wise. i6mo 1.25 
 
 Lyon's Den; or. Boys will be Boys 1.50 
 
 Mabel Hazard 1.25 
 
 Mabel's Stepmother. i6mo 1,25 
 
 Mabel Walton 1.25 
 
 Maggie's Mistake 1.25 
 
 Master Missionaries. Japp 1.50 
 
 Milly's Whims i. 25 
 
 Moore's Forge 1,25 
 
 Nellie's Secret i.oo 
 
 New Scholars 1.25 
 
 Odd One, The 1.25 
 
 Olive's Story. i6mo 75 
 
 Our Captain; or Heroes of Bar- 
 ton School 1,25 
 
 Oliver of the Mill 1,50 
 
 Palace Beautiful i, 25 
 
 Peep Behind the Scenes i.oo 
 
 Reef. Bickersteth 1.25 
 
 Rob and Mag. i6mo 75 
 
 Rosalie's Pet 1.25 
 
 Rose Dunbar's Mistake 1.50 
 
 Sword of De Bardwell. Phipps.. i.oo 
 
 Uncle Fred's Shilling 1.25 
 
 Uncle Joe's Thanksgiving 1.25 
 
 Victory Stories 75 
 
 Was I Right ? Walton i.oo 
 
 Wicket Gate. i6mo 1.25 
 
 Wise Words and Loving Deeds. . 1.50 
 
Sets in Boxes. 
 
 The Jewel Case. 6 vols $7.50 
 
 The Wonder Case. 6 vols 7.50 
 
 Win and Wear Series. 6 vols. . 7.50 
 Green Mountain Stories. 5 vols. 6.00 
 
 Ledgesjde Series. 6 vols 7.50 
 
 2.25 
 7-50 
 3.60 
 6.00 
 3.60 
 
 7' 50 
 7-5° 
 5.00 
 7.00 
 
 Butterfly's Flights. 3 vols 
 
 The Bessie Books. 6 vols 
 
 The Flowerets. 6 vols 
 
 Little Sunbeams. 6 vols 
 
 Kitty and Lulu Books. 6 vols. 
 Miss Ashton's Girls. 6 vols. . . 
 Haps and Mishaps. 6 vols — 
 
 Heroes of Israel. 5 vols 
 
 The King's People. 5 vols 
 
 Highland Series. 6 vols 7.50 
 
 Ellen Montgomery's Bookshelf. 
 
 5 vols 5.00 
 
 stories of Vinegar Hill. 3 vols. 3.00 
 The Say and Do Series. 6 vols. 7.50 
 Clareraont Series. 10 vols 8.50 
 
 Stories of Small Beginnings. - 
 
 4 vols 5.00 
 
 Ministering Children Library. 
 
 4 vols 3.00 
 
 Little Kitty's Library. 6 vols.. 3.00 
 Harry and Dolly Library. 6 vols. 3.00 
 
 Rainbow Series. 5 vols 3.00 
 
 Primrose Series. 6 vols 3.00 
 
 Peep of Day Library. 8 vols... 4.50 
 Drayton Hall Series, 6vols. .. 4.50 
 Golden Ladder Series. 3 vols.. 3.00 
 Dare to Do Right Series. 5 
 
 vols 5.50 
 
 Tales of Christian Life. 5 vols. 5.00 
 Tales of Many Lands. 5 vols.. 5.00 
 
 Springdale Series. 6 vols 2.00 
 
 The Great and Good. 4 vols... 6.00 
 Violet and Lily Series. 6 vols. 3.00 
 Golden Library, A. 10 vols — 8.50 
 Golden Library, B. 10 vols — 8.50 
 
 The A, L. O. E. Library. In 55 vols. i8mo. In a neat 
 wooden case 40.00 
 
 " All these stories have the charm and pure Christian character, which havemade 
 the name of A. L. O. E. dear to thousands of homes." — LtdJieraii. 
 
 "The writings of this author have become a standard, and the mystic imprint, 
 A. L. O. E., is ample assurance that the truth of the Gospel is beneath," — 
 Episcopalian. 
 
 -^- 
 
 Old Favorites. 
 
 The Bessie Books. By Joanna H. Mathews. Fancy cloth. 
 Chromo on cover. 6 vols. i6mo 7.50 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 The Flowerets. 6 vols. i8mo..$3.6o Kitty and Lulu Books, 6 vols. 
 
 Little Sunbeams. 6 vols. i6mo . 6.oo i8mo 3.60 
 
 Haps and Mishaps. 6vols. i6mo. 7.50 Miss Ashton's Girls. 6vols. i6mo. 7.5,0 
 
 Ministering Children and Sequel. 2 vols. i2mo. Each. 1.50 
 
 Oliver of the Mill. By the same author. i2mo 1.50 
 
 The Peep of Day Library ; or, Bible History for Very 
 Little Children. With 90 full-page illustrations. 8 vols. 
 i8mo 4. ^o 
 
 Mamma's Bible Stories and Sequel. 
 Chromo on side. Each 
 
 New edition. 
 
 .75 
 
 Very Little Tales for Very Little Children. New 
 
 edition. Two vols, in one. Chromo on side 75 
 
 Little Annie's First and Second Books. In one vol. 
 Chromo on side 75