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 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URB ANA-CHAMPAIGN^ 
 
 DEC 1 5 1973 
 
 L16 l__O-1096 
 
I 
 
I 
 
LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 URBANA 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 MARY G. DARLING. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "IN THE WORLD," ETC. 
 
 Illustrated. 
 
 " He tliat ruletli hit> spirit io better than he that taketh a city." 
 
 BOSTON 
 LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 
 
 CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM NEW YORK 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 A Plan, and some Talk about it. . , 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Watchwords, and a Roadside Campaign. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Lakeside Hill, up stairs and down. . 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LlLLIE D ALTON 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Thanksgiving and the Doings of the " J. G. T." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 The first Foreign Letter 
 
g CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 Prissy's Story abjut " Old Times." 119 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 A Merry Christmas in Spite of a broken Leg. . . 135 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Bob's Balloon Story • 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 180 
 
 Arthur's Friend, Steve Lenox. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 A Siege, in which Arthur surrenders 193 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Bob's Battles, and how he bore himself in them. • 210 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 227 
 
 About both Love and War 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 949 
 
 Rockedge. — Geoffrey's Adventure 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 070 
 
 War News 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 7 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 The Clouds lift a little. • 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Coming Home • 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 The Sun shines, and the Rain-drops glitter. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 « All's well that ends well." • • • 
 
 a • 
 
 286 
 
 300 
 
 310 
 
 320 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A PLAN, AND SOME TALK ABOUT IT. 
 
 " S~~\ DEAR, what a long, stupid afternoon!" 
 
 \J sighed Geoffrey Stanley, turning away from 
 the window, out of which he had been disconsolate- 
 ly gazing, towards the bright, fire-lit room, where 
 his brothers were sitting. "And where have papa 
 and mamma been all this time? I wonder why 
 they are shut up so much lately, talking by them- 
 selves ! " 
 
 "I think I know why," said his twin-brother 
 Jimmie, raising his eyes for a minute from the 
 book which he was comfortably perusing, lying flat 
 on his back on the hearth-rug. 
 
 "Tell me, then," said Geoffrey, curiously, quite 
 
 (9> 
 
jq BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 forsaking the window, where, indeed, nothing very 
 pleasant was to be seen, for the dull November 
 afternoon was closing in with a heavy, plashing 
 rain, as dreary here in the brick streets of the 
 city as in the muddy country roads. "Tell me, 
 Jiml" And he pressed up to the fire, before 
 wh ich Jimmiewas lying, and over the bright coals 
 of which Bob was popping corn for little Lillie, 
 who sat beside him. 
 
 "Why, I think," said Jimmie, in his grave, med- 
 itative way, "that papa has been thinking for a 
 long time over something that worries him; and 
 now he wants to have mamma all to himself to- 
 night, so that they can get it nicely settled between 
 them before they tell us children." 
 
 « But that isn't telling me what it is," said Geof- 
 frey, discontentedly. "Now you know what it is, 
 Bob, I'm sure; I see you smiling to yourself over 
 your corn-popper. Now don't you ? " 
 
 "Well, I know as much as Jimmie has said," 
 replied Bob, critically surveying his corn through 
 the wires of the popper; "and perhaps I can guess 
 a little move." 
 "0, what?" 
 
A PLAN, AND SOME TALK ABOUT IT. 
 
 11 
 
 "Take care, Bob," said Arthur, the eldest brother, 
 glancing up from the drawing he was finishing so 
 carefully; "papa hasn't said, you know, that we 
 might tell his plans yet." 
 
 "He certainly hasn't said that we mightn't tell 
 what we think his plans are — has he?" said Bob, 
 a little hotly. 
 
 Arthur's "No" sounded rather reluctant and un- 
 gracious; but, as he said no more, and bent his 
 head down over his drawing again, Bob turned to 
 his younger brothers. 
 
 "Well, then, Jeff, (there, Pussy, there are some 
 fine big fellows for you!) I think that Jim is 
 right in saying that papa has been worrying over 
 something, and it is just this : he hasn't been well, 
 — we can all see that, — and I rather fancy there 
 is some talk of his going away this winter ; that's 
 what he is talking about with mamma." 
 
 "Go away, and not take us?" said Geoffrey, a 
 little dolefully. 
 
 Bob gave a short, good-natured laugh. " I guess 
 not, Jeff'! You know it would cost a lot to take 
 such a pack of young ones. And I rather think, 
 if papa is going away, it's because he is sent; he'd 
 
12 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 never think he had enough money to spend any. 
 thing on himself!" 
 
 "Now, Bob, I'm sure that you are saying what 
 you oughtn't," said Arthur, raising his head again. 
 « If you heard what old Mr. Merton — " 
 
 "I didn't hear!" said Bob, rather angrily; "I 
 don't listen on stairs!" 
 
 «Mr. Merton has a very loud voice," quietly sug- 
 gested Jimmie from the hearth-rug. Jimmie was 
 always the little peacemaker between his elders,— 
 the smoother-away of any little roughnesses which 
 Arthurs superiority of tone and love of dictating, 
 and Bob's hot temper, might bring up. 
 
 "So he has, young one!" said Bob, accepting 
 the suggestion with another of his good-humored 
 little laughs. "So I beg your pardon, Arty." 
 
 « And I rather think we shall know about papa's 
 plans at first hand before long," said Arthur, who, 
 not candid enough to own himself in the wrong, 
 as his brother had done, yet contrived to convey, 
 in his more gracious tone, an intimation that he 
 was mollified. " After such a long talk he will 
 certainly get his plans settled, and I am sure ho 
 will be anxious enough then to tell us all." 
 
A PLAN, AND SOME TALK ABOUT IT. 
 
 13 
 
 Arthur had the rare tact of saying the right thing 
 at the right time, and this happy suggestion had 
 a good effect in calming the curiosity of his younger 
 brothers; no more surmises on the subject were, 
 heard. Geoffrey repeated once more his discon- 
 solate "And shall we really be left behind?" then 
 interested himself with Bob and his little sister 
 in the corn-popping. Arthur went on with his 
 drawing, Jimmie with his book, and the snapping 
 of the corn was the chief thing heard in the snug 
 room. And now suppose we take advantage of 
 the momentary stillness, and have a peep at the 
 four boys and their little sister. It is a pleasant, 
 cosy room where they are sitting, though the carpet 
 and chairs are not a bit too good for use and com- 
 fort. If Mr. Stanley has no money for himself, 
 nor, indeed, for many luxuries, he has at least the 
 faculty of making a little go a great way ; and the 
 books on the tables and in the cases, and the 
 pictures on the wall, do more to make the room 
 attractive, than if it were much more elegantly 
 furnished. 
 
 Arthur, just now putting the finishing touches 
 to his crayon head, is a boy of perhaps fifteen. 
 
14 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 He has a good figure, and a refined, handsome 
 face ; and though I think he knows these facts too 
 well, his satisfaction with his own outside perhaps 
 helps to make his manner and bearing so graceful 
 and easy. Arthur has always been accustomed to 
 hear himself cafJed "a perfect little gentleman," 
 and the habit his brothers have of always relying 
 on Arthur's manner of saying and doing a thing, 
 as the right way, has perhaps given him too much 
 the same idea himself. You will say that he must 
 be very conceited ; perhaps so ; but I mean to let 
 you find out his faults, and only tell you his good 
 points. I have said that he is a little too fond of 
 dictating, especially to his brother Bob; but he 
 has a sweet temper and a really kind heart, while 
 his quickness in seeing and supplying other peo- 
 ple's little wants makes him very lovable. But 
 mind, that is not saying he is generous ! 
 
 Bob, a year his junior, is very unlike him. He 
 is short, and rather squarely built, with broad 
 shoulders, and brown hands, that look like base 
 ball. Bob is not handsome ; he has only a pair of 
 bright brown eyes, which always look at you very 
 frankly and fearlessly, and sometimes very earnestly 
 
A PLAN, AND SOxME TALK ABOUT IT. 15 
 
 and thoughtfully. Bob is a queer boy ; and though 
 his schoolmates, who play cricket and football with 
 him, and call him a jolly, merry fellow, think they 
 know him, they are very much mistaken if they 
 think he is only that. Bob is shy and sensitive, 
 and very often has thoughts he would not utter to 
 any one ; perhaps he could not put them into words 
 himself. The truth is, that with all his hearty man- 
 ner and his perfect openness, he is reserved, and 
 keeps a great deal of his best part to himself. 
 Never mind ; it will come out some day ! Bob 
 has a hot temper, as we have seen just now in his 
 talk with his brother; but he is so generous and 
 honest that he is ready to ask pardon for hasty 
 words almost as soon as they have left his lips. 
 Strangers do not always like Bob ; they are rather 
 apt to think him blunt and rough, and to contrast 
 .him with Arthur, who is always so graceful, gentle, 
 and polite ; but we know that one's true qualities 
 do not all show on the outside, and I do not believe 
 that any one who sees Bob as he is now with his 
 little sister, would think his roughness went very 
 deep ; to Lillie and to his mother he is alwaya 
 gentle. 
 
|g BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 As for the twins, Jimmie and Geoffrey, they are 
 about as much of a contrast as they can well be. 
 They are nine years old, and that is almost all 
 the likeness between them. Jimmie is thin, and 
 rather pale, with big, dark eyes, and a thought- 
 ful face. He likes reading and studying, and Bob 
 calls him the « little grandfather," he has such an 
 old-fashioned way of talking to them all. Every 
 one, even Arthur, will take a reproof from Jimmie 
 sooner than from any one else. He is so gentle, 
 and so perfectly unconscious of any virtues or good 
 qualities he may possess, that every one loves him; 
 and when Jimmie is praised or rewarded, every 
 one else feels as if he had a share in it. Nobody 
 thinks of Jimmie as of the same age with Geoffrey, 
 he seems so much like his elder brother; he helps 
 him in his lemons, -Geoffrey is tar behind mm 
 there , _ or sometimes gravely reasons with him, 
 when Geoffrey is capricious or captious ; and Geof- 
 frey always depends on Jimmie in matters where 
 wisdom and judgment come into play. It is very 
 funny to see these relations between two boys of 
 exactly the same age; but I think their affection 
 is quite as strong as if they were more like most 
 
A PLAN, AND SOME TALK ABOUT IT. 
 
 17 
 
 twins. Geoffrey is one of the children everybody 
 calls a "little beauty," and everybody tries to spoil. 
 He has bright blue eyes, curly hair, and a roguish, 
 laughing face. Up to any mischief, it is fortunate 
 that he has Jimmie's wise little head to steady him ; 
 fortunate, too, that he has a very sensible father 
 and mother, or, with the universal petting he re- 
 ceives, he might be very soon actually spoiled; as 
 it is, he is sometimes- wayward and capricious. 
 
 As for little Lillie, the only girl in the Stanley 
 family, she is but live years old, and rather too 
 young to have enough character for description. 
 Of course, as the youngest and the only sister, she 
 is a great pet with all her brothers ; I think Bob 
 is her favorite among them, though they are all 
 disposed to show her their best side. 
 
 But my boy-friends have been sitting very patient- 
 ly for their portraits, and boys, we know, never do 
 sit still long at a time. Besides, just at this moment 
 the study door is opened, and Mr. Stanley looks m 
 at the group, saying, with a smiling face, — 
 
 "Well, what have you been doing all the after- 
 noon, children? You have been quiet as mice." 
 
 fr But we arc very tired of being quiet, papa." 
 2 
 
18 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 exclaimed Geoffrey, rushing to the door to pull 
 him in. 
 
 "And now you've come to tell us all about it — 
 haven't you?" 
 
 "About what, my little man?" 
 « Why, Ave think mamma and you have a plan, 
 and we all want to know what it is. You've come 
 to tell us, I know." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Stanley, "we want to have a 
 talk with you all, boys." 
 
 " Wait just one minute, then," said Bob, jumping 
 up from his footstool on the hearth-rug, and wheel- 
 ing a great arm-chair to the fire ; " this is for mam- 
 ma" —for Mrs. Stanley had entered the room behind 
 her husband. Arthur brought the stool for her feet, 
 and Geoffrey perched on the arm of her chair ; Bob 
 sat down on the rug, cross-legged like a Turk; 
 Jimmie kept his recumbent posture, but laid his 
 head on his mother's footstool; and Mr. Stanley 
 being settled in another chair, with Lillic on his 
 knee, and Arthur leaning on the chair-back, they 
 were all, as the latter suggested, "in comfortable 
 
 talking trim." 
 
 " Not." continued Arthur, "that we haven't all of 
 
A PLAN, AND SOME TALK ABOUT IT. 
 
 19 
 
 THE PLAN. 
 
 us some idea of what you are going to tell us ; " 
 for both father and mother looked so grave that 
 everybody felt it incumbent on him to make a 
 beginning:. 
 
 "Well, then," said his father, "suppose I ask the 
 nature of your impressions ; and you, little Wise- 
 head, begin." He playfully "stirred up" the re- 
 cumbent Jimmie with his foot, 
 
 " It was not I alone, papa," said Jimmie, turning 
 
20 
 
 BATTLES AT HOJIE. 
 
 over so as to lift his face up to his father's; "but 
 we all have seen for some time that you did not 
 look well, and that you sometimes were very pale 
 and tired-looking when you got up in the pulp* to 
 preach, and your voiee sounded weak, and as d the 
 sermon was hard work. I said this to Geoffrey, 
 and Bob said he thought you and mamma were 
 talking of going away for this winter." 
 
 « Smite up, mamma!" whispered Geoffrey, bend- 
 in. down from his high perch on the arm of the chair 
 to stroke his mother's grave face. It was one of 
 Jimmie's loving baby speeches, which had become 
 a by-word with the children whenever their mother 
 looked sad or anxious. 
 
 "All very right so far," said Mr. Stanley, speak- 
 in, brightly ; and as to the sermons being hard 
 work, Jimmie, I am afraid not only preachmg, but 
 a,i m y duties have been very poorly performed 
 
 of late." . , 
 
 « I'm not," growled Bob, with his hand over 
 
 his mouth. 
 
 „ rn , ive you an illustration, Bob," said Ins 
 father, quietly. "Did you ever notice an cng.no 
 just approaching the station, when the steam 
 
A PLAN, AND SOME TALK ABOUT IT. 
 
 2! 
 
 pressure is slackened, and perhaps the fuel is low, 
 how it puffs and pants, and makes such noise and 
 effort over what is, after all, just the same work 
 it has been doing easily a few minutes before ? 
 Now, that is just the way with me. This work, 
 which is the very same I have been doing and 
 loving to do all my life, has been gradually grow- 
 ing hard to me ; and now I find myself straining 
 over it like the slackened engine, and, after all, 
 doing it very slowly and haltingly. So my friends 
 have been persuading me that I have got run down, 
 and that I need to go away and get some fresh 
 fuel to start again with." 
 
 "Why don't you go away right off, then?" said 
 Bob, speaking very gruffly, and winking hard at 
 the fire. 
 
 "Because, my hasty Bob," said his father, smil- 
 ing, " there are several things to be considered first. 
 Suppose I were going away from you all to-mor- 
 row ; whom do you think I should be most sorry 
 to leave ? " 
 
 " Mamma," said Jimmie. 
 
 "Exactly; and if I were to go away by myself, 
 feeling sick, to begin with, I am afraid I should not 
 
22 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 get any great benefit, even from an Italian climate, 
 or grow better very fast, if I were to think of leav- 
 ing mamma behind me, anxious and unhappy B,,t 
 what do you think, Geoffie? When a person offers 
 you one present, do you generally ask for two 
 more r 
 
 "I wish one could!" said Geoffrey; "but who 
 gives you any present, papa?" 
 ' "Why, all the church people give me this pres- 
 ent of going away to Europe. You know, Geoffrey, 
 there are too many chickens in this house, and quite 
 too many outside of it, for any one of us to spend 
 a very great deal on himself alone. So I should 
 never have thought of going to Europe, if my 
 friends had not told me this little story about the 
 engine, and offered me something with which to 
 lay in a fresh stock of wood and coal. What's the 
 matter, Arthur?" 
 
 Arthur had changed his position a little uneasily, 
 
 and now stood drumming with his fingers on the 
 
 back of his father's chair. 
 
 "Not much, papa," he said, coloring ; "only I do 
 
 wish we were rich enough to do things for ourselves ; 
 
 I don't like taking favors and making no return 1 " 
 
A PLAN, AND SOME TALK ABOUT IT. 23 
 
 "And doesn't papa, I should like to know ! " said 
 Bob, indignantly. " Now, I think that all this time 
 it is he who has been doing the favors for other 
 people — working for them in a great many ways 
 he doesn't get paid for. And, after all, when they 
 send him away, it isn't for himself they do it, but 
 just because he has used himself up for them, and 
 they want him to be able to work for them again ! " 
 
 c ' Not exactly so. Bob, dear," said his mother, 
 gently, with a hand on the boy's head; "but he is 
 right to a certain extent, Arthur, though he is 
 speaking too excitedly. I think, too, that the obli- 
 gation, so far, is on the people's side." 
 
 " But what were the other two presents you 
 asked for, papa?" said Geoffrey, curiously. 
 
 w Not ashed for, Geoffrey; only wished for. If 
 I were going to Europe, what two people should I 
 like best to have with me, do you think?" 
 
 " Mamma and — not me!" said Geoffrey, wist- 
 fully, looking up at his father with a hopeful light 
 in his blue eyes. 
 
 Mr. Stanley half shook his head. w / know," 
 said Jimmie, softty, stroking one of his little sis- 
 ter's shining curls. "Lillie." 
 
24 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Nobody spoke for a little while ; everybody 
 looked very grave, and Mrs. Stanley wiped away 
 the tears which had gathered in her eyes at poor 
 Geoffrey's question. Presently Arthur felt it in- 
 cumbent on him to say, in a manly, off-hand manner, 
 rt And how are you and Lillie going, mamma? Who 
 is going to give you a present?" 
 
 It was another instance of Arthur's happy power 
 of saying seasonable things, for it enabled Mrs. 
 Stanley to look up with a bright smile. "Dear 
 grandpapa," said she. * While you boys have been 
 sitting here together so quietly, grandpapa and 
 orandmamma have driven in from Lakeville, in all 
 this rain, and have had a long talk with us. 
 Grandpapa knows how anxious I have been at the 
 thought of having papa go off sick and alone ; and 
 he has persuaded me to let him send me and Lillie, 
 for a year, f to see Europe,' as he says, for grand- 
 mamma and himself; they will never go now. I 
 can't tell you, Arty, how much easier it makes me 
 feel, and how anxious I am now to have pupa get 
 off. If I could only take you all with me, my 
 darlings!" 
 
 Arthur pressed his mother's hand, and Bob looked 
 
A PLAN, AND SOME TALK ABOUT IT. 
 
 25 
 
 up with one of his rare, sweet smiles, and 
 said, — 
 
 " A year soon passes ! " then looked back at the 
 fire very quickly. 
 
 " And what is to become of us, then ? " asked 
 Geoffrey, trying very hard to speak stoutly, in spite 
 of a quivering lip. 
 
 " O, that is part of the plan, Geoffie ! " said his 
 father, playfully. "What do you think, now, of 
 all four going to live with grandpapa, while we are 
 away, trying f out of town' for one winter, instead 
 of narrow city streets ? " 
 
 "Having the hill to coast down, and the lake, 
 just a stone's throw from the house, for skating ! " 
 wisely put in Bob." 
 
 "Pretty well," said Geoffrey, hesitating, while the 
 tell-tale tear slowly detached itself from his eye- 
 lash. "There'll be the sleighing!" 
 
 "Prissy'll make you a great many doughnuts!" 
 said little Lillie, gravely, from her father's knee. 
 
 "There!" said her father, laughing; "and I dare 
 say Lillie thinks Prissy's doughnuts are better 
 worth haying than Italy. Well, Jimmie?" 
 
 Jimmie's tears, if he had shed any, had been 
 
2G BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 hidden in the hearth-rug ; his little face, as he raised 
 it, did not look any graver than its wont. 
 
 "What are we to do about lessons, when — we 
 don't have — you?" — a manful struggle with the 
 lumps in his throat. 
 
 "O, there's another feature in the plan. Cousin 
 Sue sends a particular request that she may be 
 allowed to be 'Jimmie's and Geoffrey's schoolmis- 
 tress.' And she is an instructress, Jimmie, who 
 won't be called off, as papa is ! " 
 
 « I'd rather have you, with all the interruptions ; 
 but cousin Sue is very kind," said Jimmie, with 
 his habitual appreciation of other people's kindness. 
 
 "And I foresee a treat for you, too, Jimmie. 
 Grandpapa says he thinks Major Guy Dalton will 
 spend a good deal of the winter at Lakeside Hill ; 
 you know he came home wounded from the war. 
 I am pretty sure you will find another tutor there, 
 and one who is very much fresher from college 
 than papa. You will like that?" 
 
 "Yes," said Jimmie, in a low tone. He had 
 laid his cheek down on the footstool again, and was 
 clasping his mother's foot tightly with his hand. 
 "As for Arthur and Bob, they will come in 
 
A PLAN, AND SOME TALK ABOUT IT. 
 
 27 
 
 town to school," continued Mr. Stanley; it is not 
 a long car-ride, you know." 
 
 "It cuts up the day a good deal," said Arthur, 
 "but it might be worse. I dare say, too, Steve 
 Lenox will ask me to stay with him, and — 99 
 
 "Well, we will not elaborate the plan any more 
 just now," said his father, quickly. " What do you 
 say, Bob? I have not heard your voice." 
 
 "The picture has its bright side!" said Bob, 
 jumping up, and speaking in the off-hand tone he 
 usually adopted when he wished to conceal his 
 feelings. "But what shall we do without Pussy 
 here?" tossing Lillie up on his shoulder. 
 
 "Even that want is supplied," answered his father, 
 smiling. " Major Dalton has a little sister who is 
 to be at grandpapa's too; and, to crown all, her 
 name is also Lillie ! " 
 
 "But she won't be the real, bona fide Pussy- 
 cat," said Bob, prancing off with the child on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 His father rose to follow his lead. "There is 
 an old saying," said he, brightly, looking round 
 on the sober young faces, "' Let well alone.' And 
 so long as the plan is all told, suppose we don't 
 
28 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 talk any more about it to-night, but go in to tea 
 
 everybody with such a sunny face that we shall 
 
 forget it is raining out doors." 
 
 The hint took effect, and even the drawn-down 
 corners of Geoffrey's rosy mouth broke into a 
 smile. 
 
WATCHWORDS, AND A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN. 29 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WATCHWORDS, AND A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN. 
 
 THEN decisions on matters long talked about 
 
 f T are once carried out, preparations are soon 
 made ; and it seemed hardly a day after they had 
 first heard of the plan, when the boys were again 
 assembled in the study for a last talk with their 
 father. It was the last Sunday night; they had 
 heard him preach to-day for the last time in a 
 whole long year, and with the morrow the travel- 
 lers were to start for New York. The house was 
 to be shut up; and the boys' trunks stood, with 
 those of their parents, ready packed, to be moved 
 to Lakeville. 
 
 There is a certain melancholy feeling insepara- 
 ble from the sight of packed trunks and disman- 
 tled rooms ; so, though all the boys, as well as 
 their parents, had determined to keep up brave 
 hearts and bright faces in the approaching separa- 
 
30 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 tion, nobody felt very much like beginning, when 
 they were all gathered in the study for their Sun- 
 day evening talk. The silence was broken at last 
 by Bob's saying, suddenly, as he stirred the fire 
 with great energy, " What a bother it is that people 
 must be sick, and have to give up all their work ! 
 Don't you hate to think, papa, that you shan't 
 preach again for a whole year?" 
 
 "Perhaps — if I think about it," said his father, 
 with a smile. "But after all, Bob, I am not 
 going to give up preaching if I can help it. 
 Preaching, you know, is not all done in pulpits, 
 and I want to preach every day of my life while 
 I am away, and what is more, to have you all 
 preach too." 
 
 w We, papa? How can we?" said Geoffrey, the 
 questioner. 
 
 « Why not you, Geoffie, as well as any one 
 else? Preaching, you know, is spreading abroad 
 the good tidings. Now, there is an old saying, 
 that 'actions speak louder than words,' and that 
 is why I say that the best kind of preaching is not 
 always done in pulpits. If we all do our little 
 parts in life as well, as nobly, as we can, — if 
 
WATCHWORDS, AND A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN. 
 
 every one of you boys does all the little kindnesses 
 for others that he can, speaks gently and lovingly 
 always, and remembers to look about him for any 
 good that may come in his way to do, — I think 
 he will preach the good tidings quite as well as 
 if I appointed him my successor in the pulpit. 
 And now that we are speaking of it, Bob, I don't 
 think, after all, that all the work is being given 
 up. I think we shall have, all of us, some pretty 
 hard work to do this winter." 
 
 "I wish I was old enough to go to the war," 
 said Bob, vehemently, dealing a hard blow with 
 the poker at a big black lump of coal. 
 
 " O, you'll find fighting enough to do at home," 
 said his father, half laughing. " What is it, Jim- 
 mie?" 
 
 The twins were sharing the great study arm- 
 chair with their father — Geoffrey sitting up very 
 straight, and Jimmie lying back, with his head 
 on his father's shoulder; and just at this moment 
 Mr. Stanley felt a soft little hand unclasp his and 
 put into it a small book. 
 
 "My little Bible," said Jimmie, in a whisper. 
 " I want you to mark a great many texts in it 
 
32 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 for me, so that I shall be sure to be good all the 
 time." 
 
 * I will mark the texts if you want," said his 
 father, aloud; "but, Jimmie, dear, I don't think, 
 after all, that will be the surest way for you e to 
 be good,' as you say. When everything goes on 
 smoothly and pleasantly around us, being good is 
 easy enough : the time of trial is when the tempta- 
 tion conies, and that may be any where — at home, 
 abroad, at school, at play. Now, suppose it comes 
 when you are away from home, and have left your 
 Bible shut up on the table in your room. I don't 
 believe the marked texts will do you much good 
 then. No; I want my boys to have something 
 within that shall help them in their time of trial 
 — inside their hearts, not within the covers of any 
 book at all. And that something must be a tender 
 conscience, and an ear always ready to listen to 
 what conscience says. But, since Bob wishes to 
 be a soldier, suppose I call you my little sol- 
 diers — my boy brigade — and give you each 
 a watchword, in case you have any battles to 
 fight." 
 
 "Thrre'H nobedy to figlil with bm ourselvc8, w 
 
WATCHWORDS, AND A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN. 33 
 
 cried Geoffrey, looking up with a little laugh, half 
 puzzled, half triumphant. 
 
 " You've hit it exactly, my little man," said his 
 father, with a smile, laying his hand on the curly 
 pate at his elbow; "those are just the enemies 
 we fight with in battles at home. Now then, Ar- 
 thur, what's the first requisite for a soldier?" 
 
 " Courage," said Arthur, conclusively. 
 
 "Then cultivate it, captain." 
 
 "I didn't know I needed to," said Arthur, flush- 
 ing a little. 
 
 "Ah, but you know, when, as Geoffrey says, 
 there's nobody to fight with but ourselves, courage 
 changes its nature a little, and moral courage is a 
 thing we all need to cultivate particularly. Now, 
 since Jimmie calls, for texts, I'll give you each 
 one that you can carry about with you ; and yours, 
 Arthur, shall be, 'Keep yourself unspotted from 
 the world.' Remember, too, that the higher posi- 
 tion and greater influence one has, the more is 
 expected from him. Every captain, you know, is 
 responsible for a hundred men; and you have to 
 be an example for others as well as a law to your- 
 self. Will you think of all that?" 
 3 
 
34 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 w I'll try," said Arthur, more humbly than his 
 wont. 
 
 "As for you, Lieutenant Bob," said his father, 
 turning to him quickly, as if he was afraid he should 
 say too much to Arthur, " if it's fighting you want, 
 I have got a watchword for you just on the tip 
 of my tongue." 
 
 "You needn't say it," said Bob, in his droll, 
 abrupt fashion, with a grimace. "I know what it 
 is: f He that ruleth his spirit is better than he that 
 taketh a city.'" 
 
 "Very well said," replied Mr. Stanley, smiling. 
 There will certainly be no excuse for a soldier 
 who knows his duty so well, and yet fails to do 
 it. And besides that, Bob, let me remind you 
 that there would never be any peace in a camp if 
 the officers were always disputing among them- 
 selves. Only fancy, now, if a captain and a lieuten- 
 ant were forever interfering with each other, and 
 finding fault with the way in which each did his 
 particular duty ! " 
 
 It was quite evident that both Arthur and Bob 
 understood theii father's meaning. Arthur looked 
 up at Bob, with his pleasant, sweet smile; but it 
 
WATCHWORDS, AND A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN. 35 
 
 was Bob who hell out his brown hand, and gave 
 his brothers a hearty grip. 
 
 " And now for my little sergeants," continued 
 Mr. Stanley. "As for you, Jimmie," looking clown 
 at the little face on his shoulder, and smiling, 
 "just because you are the one who wanted a text, 
 I suppose I can't think of one to suit your case 
 exactly. You will find a text somewhere in your 
 Bible telling you not to be 'puffed up in your own 
 conceit.' I shall not mark that, because I don't 
 think you will need it. What I want you to do 
 is to get rid of a little of your self-distrust ; never 
 to be puffed up or conceited, but, on the other 
 hand, never to undervalue the powers God has 
 given you. And another thing — don't let your 
 little mind be too 'much filled up with books. This 
 is a real world we live in, after all, with real live 
 men and women ; and though books are excellent 
 things, reading and dreaming are not living, and 
 we need a great deal of active energy if we are 
 to get through this life satisfactorily." 
 
 Jimmie kept his hand still on his father's, and 
 Mr. Stanley did not need to ask him if he would 
 remember. 
 
36 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "Now for you, Geoffrey. If you look in Paul's 
 Epistle to the Corinthians you will find a text 
 that says, " When I was a child, I spake as a 
 child, I understood as a child, I thought as a 
 child ; but now I am a man I have put away 
 childish things.' Now, I don't mean that Geoffrey 
 Stanley is a man at nine years old, because if 
 he were, he would be a very unnatural sort of 
 person. But I do mean that I should like him to 
 have just as much manliness as he can have at 
 that age, and remember that even at nine he has 
 outgrown some little things that fitted him once 
 — little whims, and little fretful ways, and little 
 fits of temper. I want him, too, to stand on his 
 own feet — not to hold on to his brother Jimmie 
 or anybody else for support." 
 
 "Jimmie holds on to me when we're skating," 
 said Geoffrey, a little piqued. 
 
 cf I dare say. Well, suppose you agrex> to stand 
 each on his own feet henceforth — Jimmie phys- 
 ically, and you morally. Will you try?" 
 
 Geoffrey laughed, with the big tears still stand- 
 ing in his eyes. Papa's Sunday talks always made 
 him feel like crying. 
 
WATCHWORDS, AND A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN . 37 
 
 "And now, my dear boys, I don't think I've 
 anything more to say, except to wind up my little 
 sermon ; and that I shall do by telling you all 
 to fight your good fight here at home as bravely 
 as you can, and vanquish the old enemy, Self, 
 wherever he shows himself. Let Arthur, Bob, 
 Jimmie, and Geoffrey be themselves as much as they 
 can, — their best selves, I mean, — and I shan't 
 ask any more of them. Keep up brave hearts, 
 write bright letters, and remember that there are 
 only three hundred and sixty-five days in a year ! " 
 
 There has been a good deal of talk as to what 
 is the saddest word in the English language, and 
 as I think myself that "good-by" is, I do not 
 mean to put it into my story at all. I mean to 
 skip over the parting between my boys and their 
 parents, and transport you at once to Lakeside Hill, 
 of which I shall not yet even give you a descrip- 
 tion. At the time when I thought much more of 
 reading than writing stories, I used to wish that 
 the people who did write would let the children 
 speak for themselves, and not tell so much about 
 them and the place where the}' lived. So. though 
 I want you to know what a delightful place Lake- 
 
38 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 side Hill is, I prefer to tell you that presently, 
 and let you get a little better acquainted with 
 my four boys on their way there. You will not 
 think so short a journey could afford much op- 
 portunity for showing character; and yet it hap- 
 pened so in this instance. 
 
 Mr. Osborne, the boys' grandfather, remember- 
 ing how dreary a shut-up house will look to 
 people who have just seen their friends off at the 
 station, had sought to divert Geoffrey's mind by 
 giving him his dearest delight — a horseback ride 
 to Lakeside Hill. Accordingly, when the boys 
 turned the corner of the street on their way back 
 from the depot, two ponies were in waiting at 
 the door. At this sight, Geoffrey's long-drawn 
 face changed into a round, smiling one as magi- 
 cally as does the reflection in the bowl of a spoon 
 held first upright, then horizontally. 
 
 "O, there arc the ponies from Lakeside Hill!" 
 he cried. "How shall we go? What a pity we 
 can't ride double ! " 
 
 "You may have my share, Jeff," said Bob, good- 
 naturedly. rf I'm going to take a five-mile con- 
 stitutional, I'd just as lief walk as ride." 
 
WATCHWORDS, AXD A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN. 39 
 
 "And I'd rather,'' chimed in Jimmie, shrinking 
 I nick a little at the idea of a tete-d-tete ride with 
 Geoffrey. 
 
 " Well then, Jim, if you're sure it's not too far for 
 you, and Arthur will see after Jeff, we'd better be off." 
 
 "I will take care of it all," said Arthur, somewhat 
 loftily; and Bob and Jimmie speedily turned the 
 corner for their five-mile tramp. 
 
 "Come, Arty, come!" cried Geoffrey, all im- 
 patience to mount, while Arthur, with due sense 
 of responsibility, lingered over the last look at 
 the deserted home. 
 
 "In a minute — coming; " but when Geoffrey next 
 looked round, Arthur was deep in conversation with 
 a friend who had just come up. In vain he fidgeted 
 and snapped his whip. Arthur was too much ab- 
 sorbed to heed him. 
 
 "I'm off, Arthur," he said at last, when he had 
 thought about cantering till it seemed almost a 
 mockery to be standing still. 
 
 "As you like," said Arthur, pleasantly; "only 
 leave my horse for me. Or stay, Geoffrey ; if you 
 like, just lead him along by the bridle. I'll catch 
 up with vou directly." 
 
40 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Geoffrey needed no second bidding, and set off on 
 the instant — feeling double importance from the 
 fact of having two horses to manage, instead of one. 
 Indeed, in the delight of independence, he carefully 
 avoided the way by which his brothers had gone, 
 fearing to be relieved of a portion of his charge, and 
 galloped off, full speed, in another direction. 
 
 Now, Arthur had, in truth, been in no haste to 
 mount. Grandpapa's rough little Shetland ponies, 
 though well enough for Lakeside Hill, w r cre certain- 
 ly not such elegant steeds as Steve Lenox was ac- 
 customed to ; and this friend was a person whose 
 doings and belongings Arthur considered worthy 
 of imitation. So he finished his conversation at 
 his leisure, sure of catching up with Geoffrey, 
 and saving his pride by mounting out of sight. 
 
 Not so with Bob. He cared very little for the cut 
 of a horse's mane and tail, if he were only capable of 
 a canter ; and his eagerness for the other route had 
 been principally on Jimmie's account. (Jiromie had 
 not quite Geoffrey's daring in the matter of horses.) 
 It was on his account, loo, that the w five-mi^e con- 
 stitutional" was soon changed lor a run to the sta- 
 tion and a car ride to Lakcville. 
 
WATCHWORDS, AND A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN . 41 
 
 As the two boys got out of the train, the first sight 
 lhat met their eyes was a runaway horse — the first 
 bound that met their ears the " heighs ! " and 
 "whoas!" with which well-meaning people ter- 
 rify, instead of stopping, fugitive steeds. 
 
 "That's grandpapa's pony, Bob," said Jimmie, 
 turning, in his alarm, to seize his brother's arm. 
 T>ut Bob was already in the midst of the crowd. 
 
 "That's my grandfather's, Mr. Osborne's horse," 
 said he; "has any one seen another like this, or a 
 little boy, between here and Boston?" 
 
 No, nobody had ; and Bob, holding the bridle of 
 the captured pony, was fain to reassure Jimmie. 
 
 " Don't be frightened, Jim. Arthur would not be 
 thrown, you know, and he'll look after Jeff. Yon 
 wait here till I come, and I'll just ride back and 
 see where they are. Or, if you'd rather, just go 
 up to grandpapa's, — only mind, don't say a word 
 about the horse, to frighten them ; say I'm coming." 
 
 " V ] \ be careful ; " and off ran Jimmie in one 
 direction, while Bob cantered in another. 
 
 It was certainly an afternoon of mishaps. No 
 sooner had Bob turned the corner than he came 
 full on Geoffrey and his steed apparently at cross- 
 
42 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 purposes. What the pony's intent might be was not 
 clear ; but at that precise moment his heels were 
 rather higher than his head, and his small rider had 
 great ado to maintain his position. Whatever had 
 been the pony's intention, he evidently changed it at 
 sight of Bob, and was off like a shot. Geoffrey 
 clung on manfully, though not prepared for the 
 sudden bolt, and the next minute, Bob having 
 caught at the rein as the pony shot past, both 
 horses and both riders rolled on the ground. 
 
 "I'm not hurt a bit," was Geoffrey's first assertion, 
 made with great stoutness, as he sat on the ground 
 and ruefully rubbed his knees. 
 
 "I'm glad of that," said Bob; "but, Geoffrey, 
 where is Arthur? and how came you with both 
 horses ? " 
 
 "Why," said Geoffrey, "Arthur was talking with 
 a fellow, and said he'd catch up, and so I went on." 
 
 "At a walk, I suppose?" said Bob, laughing, in 
 spite of himself, at Geoffrey's face. 
 
 "Why, no, not exactly," said Geoffrc}^ with the 
 dimples twinkling in his cheeks. "But, Bob, I had 
 a very nice ride at first, with both horses; and then, 
 somehow, I dropped the rein, and when 1 tried to 
 
WATCHWORDS, AND A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN. 
 
 catch it, my horse behaved badly, and I went over 
 his head. But I'm not hurt a bit ! " 
 
 "I'm afraid the pony is, though," said Bob, crit- 
 ically surveying the animal's knees. 
 
 "O, Bob, not really?" said Geoffrey, alarmed. 
 " O, dear me ! But don't tell grandpapa about my 
 running away — will you?" 
 
 «I never did tell tales, Jeff," said Bob, quietly. 
 "Of course you and Arthur will tell your own 
 story. But come — Jimmie will be waiting for us." 
 
 "How you boys come scattering along!" cried 
 Mr. Osborne's cheery voice at the gate, on the 
 stone post of which Jimmie sat like a little sentinel. 
 "Here's Jimmie, come by the train half an hour 
 ao-o; and Arthur, he says, is on the road. But 
 what's happened, Bob? The pony's knees are all 
 bloody ! " 
 
 "I did that, grandpapa," said Geoffrey, stoutly. 
 "I had a little trouble with my horse — that's all," 
 he added, with dignity. 
 
 "O, is that all? " said grandpapa, amused. w And 
 where was Bob, meantime?" 
 
 "I was not with him," said Bob, turning away, 
 as he wrapped a handkerchief round his wrist. 
 
44 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "And why not? It seems as if you might have 
 ridden with Geoffrey if Arthur was willing to walk. 
 That's not the best beginning, Bob, now your 
 father's away. But what's the matter with your 
 wrist?" 
 
 " Only a little sprain, sir." 
 
 "So you've had a tumble, too? Well," said 
 grandpapa, looking from one to the other, in com- 
 ical perplexity, * I wonder which is the more trust- 
 worthy, Geoffrey or you, Bob." 
 
 "Here's Arthur!" cried Jimmie, from his post. 
 
 "Bob, why don't you tell?" whispered Geoffrey. 
 "I will, then." 
 
 "Good evening, sir," said Arthur's pleasant voice, 
 as he came up to the little group. "Why, Geof- 
 frey/' — turning to the culprit, who looked some- 
 what sheepish at sight of him, — "how you must 
 have ridden ! I couldn't catch up with you, and 
 so I had my five-mile tramp after all." 
 
 "You must have staid a long time with Steve 
 Lenox," began Geoffrey, faintly; but grandpapa's 
 loud voice quite drowned the explanation, 
 
 "Poor Arthur, he gets all (he hard knocks ! — 
 That's the way in this world, my boy, with the 
 
WATCHWORDS, AND A ROADSIDE CAMPAIGN. 45 
 
 people who always give up. But never mind now. 
 Come in to tea ; and welcome to Lakeside Hill ! " 
 
 The greeting sounded so pleasant that perhaps 
 Arthur forgot to explain his full share in the 
 situation. 
 
46 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LAKESIDE HILL, UP STAIRS AND DOWN. 
 
 WHAT a region of delight was Mr. Osborne's 
 place to all his grandchildren ! 
 "Bob," said Arthur, confidentially, one day, — 
 they were little boys at the time, — "shouldn't you 
 think mamma would have hated to leave Lakeside 
 Hill, and go to live with papa in such a narrow 
 little poky house as ours is?" 
 
 " No, indeed ! " exclaimed Bob, who was a very 
 loving little fellow, "because she couldn't have had 
 papa without ; and I'd rather have him than all the 
 money and big houses in the world — wouldn't 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes," said Arthur, dubiously; "but I think it's 
 n pity we can't have both." 
 
 Hie house is a very large brow n stone one, stand- 
 ing in a great garden of its own; for Lakeville, 
 though so near Boston, is not at all city-like. It 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP STAIKS AND DOWN. 47 
 
 stands quite high on a hill, and from the great 
 piazza in front you can see the blue lake glittering 
 in summer, or in winter a smooth sheet of ice 
 covered with skaters. There is a beautiful garden 
 and green-house, though November is not the best 
 time to sec either of them, and there are stables, to 
 which Geoffrey has to be forbidden to go much too 
 () ft en _ horses, as we know, are his passion. In- 
 side, the house is just as comfortable as it can be, 
 and not too fashionable or fine for what Mr. Osborne 
 considers comfort. He says he must have fireplaces, 
 such as he used to have when he was a boy ; and in 
 every room there are great crackling fires of logs. 
 The mantel-pieces and wainscotings are all of pol- 
 ished oak, and so is the broad staircase, down 
 whose slippery balusters Geoffrey, and Bob too 
 sometimes, delight to slide. 
 
 Every i iom in the house, from the attic to the 
 kitchen, is large and airy, — Mr. Osborne says he 
 must have plenty of air and space, — and, by the 
 way, both the above-mentioned rooms are very im- 
 portant parts of grandpapa's house to the boys. 
 What a place is that attic, with its great smooth 
 floor and the line of trunks ranged round the 
 
48 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 walls, for " Blind Man's Buff!" What stores of old 
 dresses for charades and tableaux those trunks can 
 furnish! and what a place it is for a home gym- 
 nasium! Hand swings, parallel bars, bean bags — 
 there's room for everything here ! As for the £reat 
 kitchen, I shouldn't like to say how old are some 
 of the grandchildren who visit that ! The great 
 roaring lire, Prissy and her store-closet — but no, 
 I will not describe these things now ; it is certainly 
 not proper to speak of the people in the kitchen 
 before we have seen those in the parlor. 
 
 So, while we are up stairs, let ns go into the 
 library, and make the acquaintance of the inmates 
 of Lakeside Hill, for in the library they are all 
 assembled ; and this room is the one, of all others, 
 in which Jimmie delights. It is panelled with pol- 
 ished wood, like the rest of the house, and there are 
 ereat carved book-cases, with whose contents Jim- 
 mie is a privileged person. There is a warm- 
 looking crimson carpet on the floor, and a groat 
 blazing lire, near which he is already ensconsed 
 with a book. 
 
 Mi. Osborne, the boys' grandfather, silling by the 
 table in his great crimson arm-chair, is a line, hand- 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, CP STAIRS AND DOWN. 
 
 49 
 
 some old gentleman, with a ruddy face and white 
 bair. He is very indulgent to all the boys, partic- 
 ularly to Arthur, who is most like him, and to Jim- 
 mie, who is his namesake. But grandpapa is not 
 a person to be ridden over, indulgent though he is. 
 Once or twice in their lives the boys have seen 
 him really angry, and they have never forgotten 
 it. He often pretends to be angry when he is 
 talking with them in his funny, half-joking, good- 
 natured manner; but that is very different from 
 the real thing, and they take very good care that 
 there shall be no occasion for that. 
 
 Grandmamma is a comfortable, placid-looking 
 old lady, with mild blue eyes, and little frizzly 
 curls of silvery hair. She is almost always dressed 
 in a black silk dress and a snowy cap — things 
 which are inseparable from Geoffrey's idea of a 
 grandmother. Geoffrey is her peculiar pet, and 
 any undue share of spoiling which the young gen- 
 tleman receives, comes, I fancy, from her. 
 
 There is another regular inmate of Lakeside 
 Hill, and one without whom it would lose many 
 of its charms, — and this is cousin Sue, the bright, 
 fivsh-looking young lady who sitrf in the chimney- 
 4 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 corner crocheting. Sue Osborne is an orphan 
 granddaughter, — the child of Mr. Osborne's eldest 
 son, — and since the death of her parents, when 
 she was quite a little girl, she has lived in Lake- 
 ville. She is now about twenty-one — a great age 
 to Jimmie and Geoffrey, who look up to and re- 
 spect her almost as much as they love her. She 
 is to be their instructress this winter, and is al- 
 ways their merry companion and sympathizer, their 
 story-teller, confidante — a host of things besides. 
 She is a very pleasant person to look at, with her 
 bright brown hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks ; 
 and a very pleasant person to live with, because 
 she has at once a sweet temper and a strong 
 character. 
 
 These are all the regular inmates of Lakeside 
 Hill; but on the hearth-rug stands another person, 
 who has not yet been introduced; a gentleman in 
 soldier's dress, and with his arm in a sling — an 
 appendage at which Jimmie glanced with sympa- 
 thetic, and Geoffrey with wondering, eyes, when 
 they first saw its wearer. The gentleman is not 
 very old, but lie has a grave face, which makes 
 him look older than he really is; and 1 may as 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP STAIRS AND DOWN. 
 
 51 
 
 well say at once that as a soldier, and a brave 
 soldier, he is Bob's very ideal of manly perfec- 
 tion — an object of the deepest reverence and ad- 
 miration. Major Guy Dalton — Colonel he must 
 be called now, for since the last battle, in which 
 he got that wounded arm, he has been promoted, 
 and when his wound is well (he is at home on 
 sick leave) he will go back to the war as colonel 
 of a new regiment, which he will drill in camp 
 this spring. But we are getting on quite too 
 fast, for instead of going forward I ought to have 
 gone back, and said that Guy Dalton was an 
 orphan, like Sue Osborne, - — the son of an old 
 friend of the family, — and that he had been grand- 
 papa's ward while he was young enough to need 
 a guardian. Since he has grown up, Lakeside Hill 
 has been his home whenever he has been anywhere 
 "near it ; but that has been very seldom. First he 
 went to college, then to Europe, then to the war, 
 so that, to the little boys at least, he is almost 
 a stranger. 
 
 " And so, my dear Mrs. Osborne," Colonel Dal- 
 ton is saying, just at the moment we enter the 
 room, "your kind offer is the very thing I wi^h 
 
52 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 for Lillie, not only because I shall see her so mucfr 
 more comfortably and happily here than in New 
 York, but because there are influences here which 
 will, I know, be far better for my little sister 
 than in her home with her aunt." 
 
 Bob, who had very quick eyes and ears for all 
 that Colonel Daltou did and said, wondered why 
 tie glanced at Sue when he talked about "in- 
 fluences." 
 
 "And Mrs. Melville leaves very soon for Eu- 
 rope?" asked Mrs. Osborne. 
 
 " Yes, almost immediately. She writes me that 
 she is coming to Boston first for a little visit, and 
 she will bring Lillie directly here. I must say 
 I think it a very fortunate circumstance that she 
 should take this European tour just now, for if 
 the time ever does come when I shall settle down 
 quietly in a house of my own, my very first desire 
 will be to take Lillie away from her present home. 
 The older she grows, the worse — " He inter- 
 rupted himself suddenly, and finished by saying, 
 "But I am almost afraid, Mrs. Osborne, that I 
 have accepted your kind invitation too readily, 
 and that you will have too many little people." 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP STATUS AND DOWN. 
 
 53 
 
 "Nonsense, Guy," said grandpapa, quickly ; 
 " there's no such thing possible. What do you 
 say, little book-worm?" playfully pulling down the 
 book over which Ji ramie was poring. "You'll 
 be glad enough to have a little sister Lillie again 
 — won't you ? " 
 
 "Bob will," said Jimmie ; "it is Bob who misses 
 Lillie most — our Lillie at home, I mean." 
 
 "Bob, eh?" said grandpapa. "Now, I shouldn't 
 imagine Bob cared much for little girls; he's too 
 rough for them, I should suppose." 
 
 Grandpapa was one of the people who did not 
 fairly understand Bob, and for that reason Bob 
 rarely showed him his best side. Accordingly he 
 did not appear in this conversation at all, only 
 gave a little smile and shrug of his shoulders to 
 himself, unperceived by anybody but Jimmie, who 
 was forever trying, in his loving little fashion, to 
 make grandpapa know Bob better. 
 
 "And as for you, Sue," Mr. Osborne went on, 
 " I know you'll be glad enough to have another 
 pupil — a nice little gentle girl, after these rude, 
 noisy boys ; " again turning round to pinch Jim- 
 mie's ear slyly. 
 
51 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "J don'/; say anything about the 'rude, loisy 
 boys/ but I shall be very glad to have a new 
 pupil," said Sue, lifting her eyes smilingly to 
 Colonel Dalton. 
 
 "I only hope she won't prove a troublesome 
 one," said he. (t I am sorry to say I know my 
 little sister very slightly after all these years of 
 separation: but I am afraid my aunt's system is 
 not the most judicious. I should not say a word 
 against her, for she is the only mother Lillie has 
 known since she can remember; but you know 
 what a gay woman of fashion in New York is, and 
 I fear Miss Osborne must not look for anything 
 very docile in Lillie. When children have no dis- 
 cipline, and are fed on flattery, they are rather apt 
 to become self-willed, vain little puppets, however 
 sweet they may be by nature." 
 
 "Well, well, Guy, we'll take her as we find her," 
 said grandpapa, quickly, for grandmamma had 
 clicked her knitting-needles several times to call 
 attention to Geoffrey's wide-open eyes and ears, 
 drinking in all they said of Lillie Dalton. 
 
 " f Little pitchers have long cars,'" said she, half 
 laughing, as Guy looked up, surprised. 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP STAIRS ANT) DOT/N. 
 
 r,5 
 
 M Now, grandmamma," said Geoffrey, vexed, as 
 all eyes turned towards him, "you are always 
 saying that when I'm in the room." 
 
 "I'm only afraid the poor child will be homesick 
 with us," said grandmamma, softly patting the back 
 of Geoffrey's fat hand to restore his good-humor. 
 
 Colonel Dalton smiled, as if he did not think 
 that very likely ; and grandpapa said, — 
 
 "O, we'll take good^care of that — won't we, 
 Arthur? For in spite of what our little philoso- 
 pher here may say, I can't help thinking you more 
 likely to please a young lady of twelve than Master 
 Bob, with his base ball and cricket." 
 
 "I'll do what I can, sir," said Arthur, with his 
 pretty, polite cordiality ; « but you know," turning 
 to Colonel Dalton, "that the young lady's brother 
 will probably be the chief attraction he e, and 
 the rest of us won't matter much." 
 
 "Very good, Arthur," said grandpapa, approv- 
 ingly. "That's quite a pretty little speech for 
 fifteen. I expect to see you quite a society man 
 one of these days." 
 
 And such compliments always gratified Arthur 
 
 immensely. 
 
56 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 The kitchen at Lakeside Hill (I am going to tell 
 you about that, now ; so we will follow Jimmie 
 and Geoffrey down stairs) was not the least attrac- 
 tive feature of the place — at all events, to the 
 grandchildren. Mr. Osborne had idea-s of his own 
 about houses, as I have already told you, and he 
 showed them in his kitchen as well as +y»i% 
 where else. 
 
 "I always liked sanded floors when I * 
 boy," said he, "and my mothers kitchen at ho it 
 had a sanded floor." Accordingly, when the brovvv 
 stone house was built at Lakeville (now a goor 
 many years ago), the floor of the great roomy 
 kitchen had to be kept carefully sanded and brushed 
 in little ripples like those one sees on the beach 
 where the waves have been rollin°* in. 
 
 o 
 
 It was no wonder all the grandchildren, little 
 and big, thought this kitchen a pleasant place. 
 The great roaring fire, the wide hearth, so sugges- 
 tive of roasted apples, the cupboards in the cor- 
 ners, filled with shining dishes and cups, and the 
 old-fashioned settles in the chimney corner, which 
 grmdpapa would have, because they reminded him 
 of his mother's country kitchen, — it was like com- 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP STAIRS AND DOWN. 
 
 ing down stairs and finding one's self back in one of 
 the good old country farm-houses one reads about ; 
 and Jimmie and Geoffrey, as well as Arthur and 
 Bob, were very fond of coming down here in the 
 winter afternoons to chat with Prissy, eat her 
 raisins and doughnuts, roast apples or make mo- 
 lasses candy over her fire. The kitchen would not 
 have been anything at all without Prissy, who was, 
 besides, a very important part of the household. 
 She had been in the family ever since grandmam- 
 ma was married, and had carried Mrs. Stanley in 
 her arms as a baby many a time ; so she could tell 
 the boys plenty of stories about the time when 
 their mamma was a little girl. She was a funny 
 little old woman, with her gray hair bobbed up 
 behind in a queer little twist, and a great white 
 apron that almost covered her up, so small was 
 she. Grandmamma had tried to persuade her a 
 great many times to give up cooking, now that 
 she was so old, and only have a housekeeper's 
 duty of directing and superintending the others. 
 But she would not hear of such a thing, declaring 
 that "there was not a girl she would trust to do 
 anything." However, though she was still only 
 
58 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 the cook, she was treated with as much respect 
 as if she had been a housekeeper by the other 
 servants, who held her in great awe, and always 
 addressed her as Mrs. Chip. (She had married 
 from grandpapa's house, and come directly back 
 there when, a few months afterwards, she was left 
 a widow.) To these servants, and to the man, she 
 was rather a tyrant, keeping them in such a state 
 of subjection that they generally retired to the 
 back kitchen, and were seldom seen in Prissy's 
 precincts. But Prissy was in her turn ridden over 
 by all the children of the family, whom she spoiled 
 quite as much as their grandmamma did ; and, 
 indeed, I think she considered tiieoi quite as much 
 her property. There was a certain store-closet 
 which was the place, of all others, where Prissy 
 kept her supplies of goodies, and the shelves of 
 which every youngster in the family scaled, when- 
 ever he could get a chance, to carry off her raisins 
 and preserved ginger, or to pry into her jam- 
 pots. Nay, if I did not know how much ashamed' 
 he would be, I could tell a tale of cousin Jack's 
 having been found in that very closet, only last 
 Christmas holidays — cousin Jack, a real collegian 
 
LAKESIDE II ILL, UP STAIRS AND DOWN. 
 
 in tail-coat and with a cane, which filled Arthur 
 with envy and emulation. And to all these ma- 
 raudings Prissy submitted, with only the mildest 
 form of rebuke when they became outrageous; 
 indeed, I think she rather liked it. 
 
 GEOFFREY IN THE CLOSET. 
 
 Before this roaring fire, then, on this particular 
 afternoon, Jimmie was sitting, with a whole row 
 of great rosy apples roasting on the hearth in 
 
no 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 front of him. Prissy was bustling about in her 
 spry little fashion, and it is to be presumed that 
 Geoffrey was not far off, for a great crackling of 
 paper bags and clinking of glass jars were heard, 
 and presently Prissy, popping her head round a 
 closet door, exclaimed, as if she had only just heard 
 the noise, — 
 
 "Now, Master Geoffrey, do, dear, come down, 
 this very minute ! I shan't have a raisin or a stick 
 of cinnamon left ! What would your grandma'am 
 say? " 
 
 As this was always Prissy's appeal in such cases, 
 Geoffrey was not much alarmed at the thought of 
 what his grandmamma would say; but he de- 
 scended slowly from the shelf, nevertheless, with 
 his pockets apparently full. 
 
 "Why, Prissy," said he, H I was only just taking 
 a few. The apples aren't done yet, and it's so 
 stupid waiting. I'm hungry, besides." 
 
 "Why, bless the boy," said Prissy, with an odd 
 little shake of laughter, K he's only just done eat- 
 ing! Now you come and sit down here and look 
 at Master Jim, sitting there so quiet and pretty 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP STAIRS AND DOWN . 
 
 fil 
 
 on his little stool. Perhaps he'll tell us a story 
 while the apples are roasting." 
 
 "Not now, Prissy," said cousin Sue's pleasant 
 voice at the door. 
 
 "O, cousin Sue," cried Geoffrey, "you don't want 
 
 us do you ? We're just having such a nice 
 
 time ! " 
 
 "I'm sorry, Geoffie," said Sue; "but somebody 
 wants you, though it isn't L Mrs. Melville is 
 up stairs, with Liliie Dalton, and she wishes to 
 see you boys." 
 
 " Bother ! " said Geoffrey. 
 
 "And the apples aren't roasted," said Jimmie, 
 rising, regretfully. "Well, I'm ready, cousin Sue." 
 
 "I don't see why ladies want to see one always," 
 said Geoffrey, following slowly. " I'm sure I don't 
 want to see them!" But, somehow, cousin Sue 
 had managed to smooth all the unpleasantness out 
 of his rosy face before they reached the parlor 
 door. 
 
 When they entered the room, they found a fash- 
 ionably-dressed lady talking volubly to grand- 
 mamma, while on the hearth-rug stood a little 
 girl, at whom Jimmie glanced eagerly, half expect- 
 
62 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 ing, iii some mysterious way, to see a fac-simile 
 of his own little sister, Lillie. But this child was 
 almost a young lady in looks and dress — or so 
 at least she seemed to simple Jimmie. She was 
 very pretty and self-possessed, though there was 
 a little conscious air about her, and a little curl 
 in the corner of her mouth, that was not quite 
 pleasant. She was beautifully dressed in a velvet 
 sack, and pretty white furs, with a jaunty little 
 velvet cap, set on her long flaxen curls, and in 
 these curls Jimmie saw the only likeness to little 
 Lillie. She was standing by Colonel Dalton when 
 they entered, her hand resting on his knee; but 
 somehow it did not strike Jimmie as being a caress 
 so much as a pretty position, and possibly Miss 
 Lillie was thinking of this herself. Guy looked 
 grave, as he generally did, but he was talking 
 to his sister pleasantly and affectionately. As for 
 Arthur and Bob, the former stood by Mrs. Mel- 
 ville, talking and listening, quite at his ease, and 
 evidently much to the visitor's taste. Bob was 
 sitting in rather a remote window-seat, with the 
 slightly bored expression fashionable lady visitors 
 were apt to give him. 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP 8TAIUS AND DOWN. 
 
 63 
 
 in 
 
 "These are Jimmie and Geoffrey," said graud- 
 amma, as the twins entered the room. "Come 
 and speak to Mrs. Melville, dears." 
 
 "O, the little twins," said the lady, turning quick- 
 ly ; "they are always the prettiest sight at any age. 
 But I declare, they're not a bit alike -are they? 
 My dear Mrs. Osborne, what a little love of a 
 fellow ! " 
 
 The " little love " was of course Geoffrey, who was 
 quite accustomed to such phrases from ladies, and 
 now submitted with good grace to Mrs. Melville's 
 admiration, though inwardly congratulating himself 
 that he was too big to be kissed. 
 
 " I think you're very like your oldest brother, my 
 love," said the lady, with a nattering glance at 
 Arthur; "and Mr. Arthur is very like you, Mr. 
 Osborne. But you, my dear," to Jimmie, "don't 
 look like either of your brothers. I'm sure you 
 must be very fond of reading and studying to get 
 such pale cheeks — now aren't you?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," said Jimmie. 
 
 "There, I knew it!" said the lady. "And of 
 course you are very bright?" 
 
 "Yes, he is," said Geoffrey. 
 
64 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "A perfect little minister — isn't he?" said Mrs. 
 
 Melville, in an affected aside to Mrs. Osborne. 
 
 "Lillie, my love, come here and speak to two more 
 
 of your winter companions. I'm afraid you'll find 
 
 Master Jimmie, here, quite outdoes you in study. 
 
 I fear my little pet will prove a very backward 
 
 pupil, Miss Osborne." 
 
 The young lady, whose pretty lip had curled 
 
 rather scornfully at her aunt's words, now advanced 
 from her brother's side, and shook hands with Jim- 
 mie and Geoffrey in such a patronizing manner that 
 even gentle Jimmie noticed it, while Geoffrey took 
 an early opportunity to whisper indignantly to his 
 brother, "How big she feels!" 
 
 "I don't mean, of course," said Mrs. Melville, 
 whose system it was to smooth away with flattery 
 one minute what she had said for effect in the 
 preceding one, "that my sweet little Lillie hasn't 
 her strong points ; but governesses are so wretched 
 nowadays, you know ! But you'll find, if I am not 
 mistaken, Miss Osborne, that she has made good 
 progress in French, and she is really a wonderful 
 musician for her age." 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP STAIRS AND DOWN. 65 
 
 "As we shall soon have an opportunity of judging 
 for ourselves," said Colonel Dalton, dryly. 
 
 "O, my dear Guy, I always forget you don't like 
 compliments: very judicious too, I'm sure. I per- 
 fectly agree with you myself. Dear, dear ! I shan't 
 have a moment's uneasiness in leaving Lillie in 
 such excellent hands." 
 
 "I'm only afraid she'll be homesick with us," said 
 grandmamma, in her kindly fashion. 
 
 "O, my dear Mrs. Osborne, I'm sure that is im- 
 possible — though Lillie, I am afraid, has too much 
 taste for gayety. New York is such a place for 
 children to grow up in ! But I don't mean," ran on 
 Mrs. Melville, "that there is any danger of Lillie's 
 finding it quiet here. How should she, with such a 
 houseful of young gentlemen? But don't let me 
 hear of your flirting, Lillie," shaking her head at 
 her niece. "I am a little afraid of Mr. Arthur, 
 here— he looks like a sad flirt!" 
 
 Lillie tossed her head with the same disdainful 
 look on her mouth; but she blushed, nevertheless, 
 and glanced at Arthur, looking very pretty as she 
 did so. As for that young gentleman, his vanity 
 a-;;s to tickled by Mrs. Melville's speech that he 
 5 
 
66 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 blushed too, and looked much pleased and rather 
 silly, as he made a little bow to Miss Lillie. Bob 
 " pished and pshawed " to himself in his remote seat 
 during these proceedings, and Colonel Dalton rose 
 abruptly and walked to the window. 
 
 "Yes; he looks quite like a dangerous young 
 man, I think," pursued Mrs. Melville, noticing the 
 effect of her former speech on the young folks ; 
 "and I should recommend you, Lillie, to cultivate 
 the acquaintance of his younger brother instead — 
 Master Bob, I mean. Where is he? O, over there, 
 in the window ! lie doesn't look as if he meant to 
 break any young lady's heart one of these days, and 
 I don't believe he cares much for young ladies. Do 
 you, Master Bob?" 
 
 "Girls? Yes; some of them," said Bob, with 
 characteristic bluntness, and with an emphasis which 
 was not too polite. 
 
 "O, dear!" said the lady, turning away with an 
 affected little laugh. "I'm afraid Master Bob is 
 a sarcastic young man — isn't he?" to Mr. Osborne. 
 
 "He does not always keep his tongue in the best 
 control, I fear," said grandpapa, somewhat sternly, 
 for little as he liked silly Mrs. Melville, his old- 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP STAIRS AND DOWN. 
 
 fashioned ideas of the courtesy due to ladies were 
 offended by Bob's brusque tone. 
 
 "How very unlike for brothers!" said Mrs. Mel- 
 ville, glancing from Bob to Arthur. "I think 
 Master Bob must be like his father, though I only 
 dimly remember Mr. Stanley as a young man, 
 before he was engaged to poor Fanny." 
 
 « There is no one I would rather grow to be 
 like, if I were you, Bob," said Colonel Dalton, 
 who was standing near Bob's window. And the 
 boy, who had pressed His lips hard together to 
 keep from saying something curt at what he thought 
 disparaging mention of his father, looked up grate- 
 fully and smiled in Colonel Dalton's face, loving 
 him more than ever for his speech. 
 
 "And now I must be beginning my adieux," 
 said Mrs. Melville, rising, "though I put off the 
 moment of bidding my sweet little Lillie farewell 
 as long as I can; but, my dear Mr. and Mrs. and 
 Miss Osborne, I assure you, I feel so happy to 
 leave her in your hands, if I must leave her 
 at all! Good by! And Mr. Arthur, if I should 
 meet jour father and mother abroad, I shall con- 
 gratulate them on having such a young man for 
 
68 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 a son, and tell them, too, what a snub their witty 
 Master Bob gave me. Good by, little twins ! 
 And now, Guy," leading up Lillie to him in very 
 dramatic style, "I leave my - precious little lily- 
 flower with her brother, and only tell him not 
 to be too hard with the little tender plant. He 
 must remember that these little buds need a 
 great deal of sunshine and delicate handling, 
 and the frost of stern looks and grave words 
 wilts them." 
 
 "I hope Lillie's brother will do his very best by 
 his little sister, aunt Melville," said the young 
 soldier, quietly, taking no notice of the lady's 
 flowery metaphor. His tone was grave, but there 
 was the least little twinkle in his eyes as he said 
 the words, and he looked down at Lillie very 
 kindly as he clasped her little hand in his. As 
 for the young lady herself, she received all her 
 aunt's fond adieux and embraces very coolly, — 
 as indeed she did everything, — returning Mrs, 
 Melville's kisses prettily, but without any abate- 
 ment of the self-possession she had maintained 
 from hex entrance. As the door closed on Mrs. 
 Melville, Geoffrey, who had been looking on with 
 
LAKESIDE HILL, UP STAIRS AND DOWN. 
 
 big eyes at the parting scene, expecting perhaps 
 to see the fine young lady cry, whispered to Jim- 
 mie his conviction that " she didn't care one 
 bit." 
 
 "Well, what did you think of them?" said 
 Arthur to Bob, when Lillie Dalton had gone up 
 stairs with grandmamma and cousin Sue, and the 
 boys were alone in the parlor. 
 
 "I thought Mrs. Melville a silly, affected, fine 
 lady, and Lillie Dalton a stuck-up, over-dressed 
 doll," was Bob's very candid reply. "The bare 
 idea of naming her in the same breath with our 
 Lillie ! " 
 
 "And I thought she was the prettiest little girl 
 I had ever seen," said Arthur, who felt fifteen a 
 very old and important age, since Mrs. Melville 
 had called him Mr. 
 
 "Pretty* enough," said Bob, "if she would only 
 let her eyes alone, and not mince at herself in 
 the looking-glass. O, Colonel Dalton, I beg your 
 pardon," in dismay, as Guy came slowly walking 
 towards them from the dark back parlor, where 
 he must have heard every word. 
 
 "Don't apologize," said Colonel Dalton; "you 
 
70 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 could not know I was within hearing." But Bob 
 was crimson, and relapsed into a fit of shyness, 
 which was a sufficient cloak for his design of 
 avoiding Lillie Dalton all the rest of the evening. 
 
71 
 
 LILLIE DALTON. tL 
 
 M 1 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LILLIE DALTON. 
 
 R. OSBORNE always liked to have breakfast 
 _ blight and early, and as the elder boys had 
 to eateh the first train to be in time for school, 
 the young faees were generally round the breakfast 
 table pretty punctually. But on the morning after 
 Lillie Dalton's arrival, there was one place vacant, 
 and that was the new comer's. 
 
 «I don't see our little stranger," said grandpapa, 
 on whom Lillie's beauty and self-possessed bear- 
 ing had made quite a favorable impression the 
 night before. "Did you let her oversleep herself, 
 Sue?" 
 
 "No, sir; she was awake quite early," said Sue, 
 whose 'room Lillie's adjoined, "and I thought 1 
 left her half dressed. Perhaps she did not hear 
 the bell; I'll run up and see." 
 
 « No, don't ; I am going," said Colonel Dalton, 
 
72 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 rising so quickly that Sue had hardly time to 
 cross the floor before they heard him knocking 
 at his sister's door above. He was gone so long, 
 however, that grandpapa, annoyed at the delay, 
 despatched Sue in quest of them both. On the 
 stairs she met Guy, with such an expression of 
 vexation and mortification on his face, that she 
 stopped involuntarily. 
 
 "What is it?" said she, brightly. "Is Lillie in 
 any trouble? " 
 
 " Some difficulty — about her hair, I believe," 
 said he, hesitating, in evident embarrassment. "1 
 am sorry to have you annoyed, but could you be 
 so kind as to go to her? My aunt has so petted 
 and spoiled the child, that she can't do the slightest 
 thing for herself." 
 
 w Certainly I'll go," said Sue, and ran up stairs 
 before Guy had time to thank her. 
 
 Before the glass stood Lillie, in her little crimson 
 dressing-gown, with her pretty, fair hair, half 
 combed, half curled, hanging over her shoulders. 
 She held a brush in her hand, and was making 
 evident efforts to finish the operation of curling 
 her hair, but with such poor success, that she 
 
LTLLTE D ALTON. 
 
 73 
 
 grew more and more angry with every fresh 
 failure. 
 
 "Let me help you," said Sue's pleasant voice. 
 
 She turned round quickly. "O, are you there, 
 Miss Osborne?" blushing. "I'm so sorry you 
 came up. But Guy is so unreasonable! He has 
 been insisting that I should go down to breakfast 
 just as 1 am— just as if I could, looking so like 
 a fright ! " and she gave an angry twitch to her 
 tangled hair. 
 
 Sue took the brush from her hand. "I ought 
 to have asked if you wanted any help," said she, 
 soothingly. "Your hair is so long and thick that 
 it must be hard to manage it yourself." 
 
 " I don't know anything about it," said the young 
 lady, a little loftily. " Aunt Bella's maid always 
 did it at home; and just because I find it hard 
 to do at first, myself, Guy comes up, insisting I 
 shall come down just as I am ! " 
 
 "Suppose," said Sue, gently, "you let me put it 
 up for you in this net, — just for this one morning, 
 — because your breakfast will be cold, and my 
 grandfather does not like to see empty places at 
 table. Then after breakfast I will come up and 
 
74 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 curl it for you nicely, and in a very short time I 
 can teach you to do it for yourself. Shall 1?" 
 
 Li I lie submitted, though with such a very bad 
 grace, that Sue no longer wondered at Guy's 
 anxiety to remove his sister from an atmosphere 
 where undue value of her own beauty seemed the 
 chief thing inculcated. 
 
 The dressing was quickly finished, and they 
 descended to the dining-room, Lillie extremely 
 conscious of the absence of her long ringlets. She 
 scarcely stopped to reply to the good mornings 
 which greeted her, before she turned to Mrs. 
 Osborne to say, — with an odd mixture of young- 
 lady dignity and childish pique, — "I ought to 
 apologize for my appearance ; but I got delayed 
 this morning, and had not time to curl my hair." 
 
 w Indeed, my dear, I did not notice that you 
 looked any differently," said grandmamma, quietly. 
 " But now you speak of it, I think the net is 
 much prettier and simpler for the morning." 
 
 Lillie bridled a little at this speech, and glanced 
 at Avih it to see whether he missed her curls, 
 while Colonel Dalton, who had colored when Lillie 
 made her apology, and who still wore his annoyed 
 
LTLLIE DALTON. 
 
 75 
 
 look, scarcely raised his eyes from the newspaper 
 all through breakfast, except to say, "Thank you," 
 in a low tone to Sue, as she took her seat. 
 
 Sue must have thought sometimes, during the 
 morning, of grandpapa's promise of a "nice, gentle 
 little girl " to teach after her boy pupils, and smiled 
 to herself at the idea of applying such words to 
 Lillie Dalton. Sue had undertaken the lessons, 
 . as at once a pleasure, and an outlet for her untiring 
 energies and love of occupation ; but the pleasure 
 was almost all a task this morning, with Lillie for 
 a pupil. Whatever Mrs. Melville's governesses had 
 taught Lillie, they had not taught her application, 
 and not even Geoffrey's attention was so easily 
 distracted as hers seemed to be. Then she was 
 pettish and piqued if Sue corrected her before 
 the younger boys, yet made mistakes of which 
 Geoffrey would have been ashamed. French was 
 better than the rest, for she had a pretty accent 
 and read easily, but the morning was a trial, and 
 Sue felt hot and tired when it was over. It was 
 harder still for her from the fact that Guy, who 
 had taken lately to coming in during lesson hours 
 to attend to Jimmie's Latin, was in the room 
 
7fi 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 during part of the time. He looked so mortified 
 at every fresh proof of his sister's injudicious 
 training — really seeming to wince at every pettish 
 word she spoke — that Sue felt for him more than 
 for herself, and labored to show him that such was 
 the case. But, in spite of all disagreeables, she 
 was conscientious, and when she undertook a thino- 
 did it thoroughly. So Lillie was kept at her desk 
 long after the boys were gone to play, and it was 
 late when she was despatched to the piano, and 
 Sue at liberty to rest, and cool her flushed cheeks. 
 
 When she descended to the library dressed for 
 the five-o'clock dinner, Guy was standing on the 
 hearth-rug, just visible by the dancing shadows 
 of the fire — the only light in the room. As she 
 entered he half held out his hand, and spoke imme- 
 diately, as one does when he has been waiting for 
 an opportunity to speak to some one. 
 
 " Miss Sue " (nobody ever called Sue Miss Os- 
 borne long), "Miss Sue, I want to tell you how 
 sorry and grieved I am for your trouble with Lillie 
 this morning." 
 
 "No, don't," said Sue, playfully, going up to 
 the fire. 
 
LILLIE L> ALTON. 
 
 77 
 
 "Indeed," he went on, gravely, "I cannot allow 
 it to continue. Lillie must not make what you 
 undertook as a pleasure such a task to you. Wheth- 
 er she goes to school, or whether I attend to her 
 lessons myself, I cannot permit her to abuse your 
 kindness again. " 
 
 "Not if I ask it as a favor?" Sue said, looking 
 up in his face with a smile. 
 
 " I'm afraid I ougMf not. I know your sweet 
 temper would make the tax on you as little as 
 possible; but, to tell the truth, I am unwilling 
 again to expose myself to such mortification. I 
 feel all Lillies misdemeanors as keenly as if they 
 were my own." 
 
 "My dear Colonel Dalton," said Sue, more seri- 
 ously, "you are too sensitive. Now, will you let 
 me say something to you ? " 
 
 "Anything you please." 
 
 "Well, then," said Sue, blushing a little, "I 
 think I see how it is going to be with you and 
 Lillie. She has been unfortunate in her bringing 
 up, and now the effects of it must wear off. I 
 know they will in time. Mrs. Melville was right, 
 after all, in saying that one mustn't be too harsh 
 
78 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 with Lillie, and above all one mustn't have any per- 
 sonal feeling about her. I could see you wince this 
 morning at every little slip of hers, and I longed 
 then to speak to you about it. It is far the best 
 way, if you will only think so, not to mind, but 
 just go on quietly and bear with it for a time. I 
 shall ; that is, if you will let me try Lillie again, 
 and promise not to mind if I seem to be having a 
 hard time just at first. May I try her, please?" 
 
 Nobody could have withstood Sue's sweet tone 
 and honest eyes. At any rate Colonel Dalton 
 couldn't. 
 
 "I can't say no, if you wish it," said he, with 
 a smile. "And, indeed, there is great excuse for 
 poor Lillie. I wanted to remind you this morning 
 that the poor child has never known what it is to 
 have a mother." 
 
 " And that is just what I wished to say to you," 
 said Sue, gently. 
 
 Colonel Dalton held out his left hand to her 
 — the right was in the -sling. « You are very 
 kind," said he, "and since you wish it, I will not 
 keep Lillie from your good influence. If I can, 
 too, I will dy to get rid of some of my own sett- 
 
LILLIE DALTON. 
 
 79 
 
 sitiveiiess on the score of the child. It is a sort 
 of egotism, I believe — " 
 
 Just here Colonel Dalton's speech was interrupted 
 by a little voice from the corner, saying, demurely, 
 «I am here: do you iniud?" and Jimmie's little 
 figure arose from the sofa. 
 
 "No, we don't mind, Jimmie," said the colonel, 
 dropping Sue's hand somewhat suddenly, however. 
 Cousin Sue blushed. "But, Jimmie," putting his 
 arm on the boy's shoulder, " what were you doing 
 here in the dark so quietly?" 
 
 Jimmie hung his head. "I was dreaming, I 
 believe," said he; "at any rate I did not find out 
 anybody was in the room till just now." 
 
 "Day-dreams!" said the colonel; "well, is that 
 anything to be ashamed of? " 
 
 "Papa does not like them," said Jimmie, "and 
 I am trying to break myself of them. But to- 
 night, after the light went, I got thinking over 
 what I had been reading and doing to-day, and 
 then I heard Lillie's name, and found out that I 
 had been thinking about her, too." 
 "Thinking — what?" said Guy. 
 " Why, I was trying to fancy," said Jimmie, col- 
 
80 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 oring, " what watchword papa would have given her 
 for this winter, if she had been with us when we 
 had our last Sunday talk with him. But I didn't 
 mean to talk about that. Please don't ask me any 
 more." And seeing the tears, which rose to the 
 little fellow's eyes when he spoke of his father, 
 though he turned away quickly to hide them, 
 Colonel Dalton asked no questions about the watch- 
 words. 
 
 So Lillie Dalton continued in the school-room 
 under cousin Sue's guidance, and gradually became 
 domesticated at Lakeside Hill. Spoiled child as 
 she was, she could be very winning when she chose, 
 and neither grandpapa nor grandmamma was in- 
 sensible to her sweet manner and pretty, coaxing 
 ways with her grave, elder brother. She played 
 very prettily, too, as Mrs. Melville had said, and 
 grandpapa liked to sit in his easy chair, listen to 
 and look at her. As for the boys, Jimmie always 
 made friends with everybody; and two days had 
 not passed before Lillie had dropped her patron- 
 izing manner to him. But Geoffrey deeply resented 
 both her treatment of himself, as a little boy, and 
 her habit of drawing unfavorable conmari- 
 
 also 
 
LILLIE DALTON. 
 
 81 
 
 sons between things in New England and New 
 York. 
 
 "She brags so!" said Geoffrey, aggrieved, to 
 his twin. 
 
 "Why, it doesn't mean anything," said the little 
 wisehead ; " she's only talking big, as the boys do 
 sometimes. I wouldn't mind, Geoffrey." 
 
 With Bob, too, Lillie Dalton was no favorite. 
 He detested affectation in any form, and he had 
 passed his fiat on Lillie the first day of her arrival. 
 He gave her, accordingly, as the saying is, a * wide 
 berth," and made himself, besides, so taciturn in 
 her company, that the little coquette did not feel 
 tempted to try any of her pretty wiles upon him, 
 as she might otherwise, from sheer perversity, have 
 done. But Arthur and she were excellent friends. 
 I think both had been pleased with the parts as- 
 signed them by Mrs. Melville, and both acted them 
 to perfection, — Arthur paying Lillie all manner 
 of flattering little attentions, and Lillie receiving 
 them with the half-indifferent, half-encouraging gra- 
 ciousness of a reigning belie. 
 
 One clear day when there was good skating, — 
 November was very cold this year, — Bob was 
 6 
 
82 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 skimming about on the lake, now stopping to help 
 Jimmie, not yet quite tirm on his feet, now exe- 
 cuting all manner of graceful figures on the ice. 
 Presently, looking up from a most elaborately 
 twisted cipher of R. O. S., Bob saw Lillie coming 
 down to the lake, looking, as usual, very pretty 
 in her blue skating jacket and cap. He had not 
 time, however, to say, * Bother ! " (I hope, indeed, 
 that he did not feel tempted to say it) ; for Lillie, 
 after looking over the ice for a minute, called to 
 him to know where Arthur was. 
 
 "He has gone off by this time," said Bob, skat- 
 ing up ; w he was going to see a fellow on the 
 other side of the lake/' 
 
 "O, dear, why didn't he tell me?" said Lillie, 
 disconsolately. "I could have come down earlier 
 just as well as not." 
 
 Arthur, as Bob knew, always put on Miss Lillie's 
 skates very gallantly, so that her hands need not 
 get cold. 
 
 "If you wanted him to put your skates on," said 
 Bob, — not quite so gracefully as Arthur would 
 have said it, — "I can do it just as well as he." 
 
 Lillie hesitated a minute; she had Uen inclined 
 
LILL1E D ALTON, 
 
 83 
 
 to resent the "rough glum boy's, " neglect of her- 
 self, and he might have offered to help her in 
 more gallant words ; but his brown eyes looked 
 at her so good-naturedly under his fur cap, as she 
 glanced at him, that she said, w Thank you," with- 
 out stopping to think, and held out her pretty little 
 foot. 
 
 Just as Bob was buckling on the skates (and 
 Lillie had to own to herself that he did it quite 
 as quickly as Arthur) a sleigh passed, and in it 
 was Colonel Dalton, being driven out by Sue; his 
 arm was not yet well enough for him to hold the 
 reins. Sue, who looked very pretty in her little 
 brown hat and with her fresh rosy cheeks, turned 
 when she saw them, and called out pleasantly to 
 Lillie, "I hope you're wrapped up warmly, Lillie. 
 Skating will be cold work this afternoon." 
 
 w Warmly enough ; it isn't the first time I've been 
 out skating," was Lillie's very ungracious rejoinder. 
 
 Sue drove on without a word, and Bob, who 
 had hv;en chatting till then, finished the buckling 
 in silence. Lillie did feel a little ashamed, as her 
 own pettish tone came back to her ; but as there 
 was no need for saying so, she accepted the end 
 
84 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 of the hockey which Bob offered her, and both 
 skated for some minutes without speaking. 
 
 K You skate very nicely," said Bob, presently, 
 finding the silence oppressive ; " wouldn't you like 
 me to teach you the outer edge?" 
 
 "No, I believe not this afternoon," said Lillie ; 
 "it is cold, after all, and very disagreeable, skat- 
 ing in this wind. I shan't stay out long." 
 
 Bob was proposing to amend matters by turning 
 their backs to the wind, when Lillie stopped short, 
 and, stamping her foot, skate and all, on the ice, 
 exclaimed passionately, "What business is it of 
 hers, I should like to know, whether I'm wrapped 
 up or not ; I don't belong to her ! " 
 
 "Nor deserve to, I'm sure,*' said Bob, coolly, 
 " if you're talking of cousin Sue!" 
 
 "As if I were a baby," Lillie went on, without 
 heeding the interruption, "and couldn't tell whether 
 it was hot or cold ! I wish she would let me alone ! " 
 
 "I wish she would, I'm sure," said Bob, indig- 
 nantly, " if that is the way you speak of her. 
 What is there to be in such a passion about, I 
 should like to know, in her asking whether you 
 were wrapped up warmly?" 
 
LILLIE D ALTON. 
 
 85 
 
 LILLIE AND BOB. 
 
 "It wasn't this thing only," said Lillie, her blue 
 eyes flashing like steel ; w it's the way she speaks 
 to me always, — as if she wanted to turn me round 
 her little finger, as she does everybody else. I 
 suppose she thinks she can do anything with me 
 because I'm Guy's sister ; but I'll show her that 
 I won't stand it much longer ! " 
 
 "I'm sure / can't stand this much longer! " said 
 Bob, indignantly ; K what do you mean, Lillie Dalton ? " 
 
86 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "I mean," said Liliie, hotly, "that she's trying 
 to get my brother away from me ; and I hate her 
 for it ! " 
 
 "Take care, Miss Liliie," said Bob; "I can't 
 hear such things said of cousin Sue. Take your 
 brother away from you, — what do you mean?" 
 
 "My own dear, brave, splendid soldier brother!" 
 said Liliie, on the verge of a sob. "And just as 
 I get him back, and want to make him love me 
 a little, in she comes, and carries him off from 
 me. What business has she to drive him out, 
 and take care of him, I should like to know — 
 my brother ! " 
 
 The tears flowed down Lillie's cheeks, and Bob's 
 heart softened towards her. 
 
 "Aren't you a little unreasonable, Liliie?" said 
 he, gently; "you know you couldn't drive out 
 Colonel Dalton, if cousin Sue were in China this 
 very minute. As to saying she wants to carry 
 him off from you, I don't know what you mean." 
 
 "Of course you don't," said Liliie, impatiently. 
 "You can't know how much I love Guy." 
 
 " I know, at any rate, how much / love him,' 
 said Bob, quickly, coloring up to the eyes. 
 
LILLIE D ALTON. 
 
 87 
 
 « Do you ? " said Lillic, looking at him wonder- 
 ingly, astonished at such a confession from the 
 "rough" boy. 
 
 It would, perhaps, have been as well if they had 
 stopped here ; but Bob felt a little twinge of bash- 
 fulness after having thus betrayed his hero-wor- 
 ship, and, to hide it, went back to his former 
 tone. 
 
 « But if you love Colonel Dalton, Lillie, you 
 have an odd way of showing it; and, as to making 
 him love you, I think you might find some better 
 way than speaking so to any one he likes." 
 
 This speech roused all Lillie's jealousy again. 
 "I didn't ask you to tell me how to make my 
 brother love me," said she. The hot flush on her 
 cheeks had dried up all her tears now, and drop- 
 ping the end of Bob's hockey, she skated away 
 from him. 
 
 Bob followed, heartily sorry for his hasty words. 
 "I beg your pardon, Lillie: won't you come and 
 •skate with me again ? " 
 
 But Lillie declared it was cold, and very stupid 
 work; so the only reparation Bob could make was 
 to take off her skates for her, and then stand 
 
88 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 watching her, with a very sober face, as she walked 
 towards home. 
 
 Lillie entered the library with all sorts of bad 
 passions struggling in her poor little heart. With 
 all her little affectation of coldness and indifference, 
 she had a very warm, passionate nature, and a 
 heart that fairly cried out to be loved ; only in 
 aunt Melville's house there was no room for these 
 things to show themselves. But when her soldier 
 brother came back to her, — the brother whom 
 she had hardly known before, — Lillie's ardent 
 fancy made a hero of him, gloried in his wounds 
 and his honors, and secretly idolized him. Guy 
 never dreamed of it. So when they came to Lake- 
 side Hill, and Lillie saw, or fancied she saw, that 
 Guy cared for Sue Osborne, her undisciplined little 
 heart was filled w T ith the bitterest jealousy, and 
 she almost hated Sue. 
 
 She entered the library, and stopped, for on the 
 sofa her brother was lying, with his eyes shut. 
 The firelight fell full on his face, and she saw 
 how pale he looked. Softly she stole on tiptoe 
 to the sofa, and stood holding her breath and 
 looking iit him. His wound was far from well 
 
LILLIK D ALTON. 
 
 89 
 
 yet, and as she stood there, she thought she saw 
 a look of pain cross his face. It made her remem- 
 ber, in a flash, how near she had been to losing 
 him, — how far from certain it was that she might 
 not lose him even now. And if she should, what 
 had she ever done to make him love her? The 
 thought was too much for poor Lillie, and as hex 
 brother opened his eyes, — for he had not been 
 as i e ep, — she threw herself upon his breast in a 
 perfect storm of sobs and tears. 
 
 "Guidie! O, my own dear, dear brother Guy!" 
 "Why, Lillie, what is all this?" said her brother, 
 feeling the tears start to his own eyes, as she 
 clasped him in her arms. 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't hate me ! " sobbed Lillie. 
 "And why should I, my dear little sister?" said 
 Guy, getting the troublesome arm out of the way, 
 and putting the other round Lillie. 
 
 "Because I am so wicked, and have such a 
 temper. I want you to forgive me for it, and for 
 speaking so to Miss Osborne." 
 
 "Don't you think, Lillie, it would be a good 
 plan to say that to her?" asked Guy, rathei 
 gravely. 
 
90 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "Perhaps so — some time — but, Guidie, I want 
 to say it to you now — I want you to forgive me 
 ■ — [ want you to love me — O, I can't bear to 
 think of your going away from me!" 
 
 "Nobody thinks of iry going yet, you know," 
 said Guy, trying to laugh, because Lillie made 
 him feel like crying. " This arm of mine is going 
 to keep me here a long time yet." 
 
 Lillie was ashamed to confess that she had been 
 afraid something else might take him away. 
 
 "But you don't care for me," she said, mourn- 
 fully ; " and it is my own fault, because I don't 
 take the best way to make you. But I do love 
 you dearly, and you're all I've got ! " 
 
 " And you're all I've got — aren't you ? " said 
 her brother, playfully, pulling her head down to 
 his shoulder. "But, Lillie, dear, I don't believe 
 we either of us take the best way to make our- 
 selves loved. Can't you try, my little sister, to 
 be less petulant and passionate, and try to seem 
 to care for other people as much as I believe 
 you really do? And then, if you see me grave 
 and cold, as you think, don't say to yourself that 
 I don't care for you, because it isn't so. I do 
 
LILLIE DALTON. 
 
 91 
 
 lov< you just as much as you can possibly love 
 me, only I feel grieved when you are as you 
 have been here, and speak as you did this after- 
 noon. I know each of us is all the other has; so 
 we ought to take care to make that all a great 
 deal — oughtn't we?" 
 
 Guy kissed her cheek as he spoke, and Lillie 
 clasped her arm round his neck. Then they lay 
 still so long in this position, that when Bob came 
 in whistling, cold and rosy from skating, he found 
 them both fast asleep. He stopped his whistling 
 in the very middle of a note, stood still a minute 
 to look at them, then crept out of the room on 
 the tips of his toes. 
 
92 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTEB V. 
 
 THANKSGIVING AND THE DOINGS OF THE " J. G. T." 
 
 ^ I II I A N K S G I V I X G ? I need not say, was a gala 
 
 JL day at Lakeside Hill, — it always is when 
 there is a grandfather's house to eat the Thanks- 
 giving dinner at, and plenty of grandchildren to 
 come to it. Each one of Mr. Osborne's grand- 
 children had in turn, as a child, counted the days 
 intervening between the first of November and 
 that long-expected festival, — and even when past 
 the age for- such childishness, every grandchild 
 still looked forward to it as a gala clay. 
 
 Accordingly, this particular Thanksgiving was 
 hailed with almost as much joy by the older in- 
 mates of Lakeside Hill as by Jimmie and Geoffrey. 
 True, Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, with little Lillie, 
 were away, but uncles, aunts, and cousins were 
 not wanting; and most eagerly looked lor among 
 the arrivals was that of the remaining grandchildren 
 
THANKSGIVING AND DOINGS OF THE w J. G. T." ( J3 
 
 of the family,— Jack, the young collegian, men- 
 tioned before ; Fanny, a bright, merry girl of six- 
 teen ; and Charley, a year older than the Stanley 
 twins. Cousin Jack was the chief promoter of 
 the Thanksgiving fun and frolic, and Geoffrey had 
 stood at the window, on the eventful day, a long 
 time before uncle John and his party could be 
 reasonably expected. - 
 
 M Me on a little patience, Geoffie," grandmamma 
 said, with a smile, hearing the long-drawn " Q, 
 dear!" with which Geoffrey contemplated the 
 empty avenue. 
 
 "But they are so late, grandmamma, and it is 
 such a gray, dismal-looking day! Perhaps they 
 are not coming, after all, and we can't have any 
 fun without cousin Jack and Fanny!" 
 
 But these dismal forebodings were cut short by 
 a triumphant shout of, "There they are ! " and 
 all the children flew down to the door, to greet 
 rapturously uncle John, aunt Kitty, Jack, Fanny, 
 and Charley. 
 
 Cousin Jack, like his father before him, had 
 been the mischievous boy, whose tricks were 
 proverbial in the family; and now, though his 
 
94 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 nineteen years, his standing as a Sophomore, and the 
 moustache he was cultivating so carefully, did not 
 allow him to enter into the " children's sports " with 
 quite such freedom as of yore, he was still looked 
 upon as the master of the revels. Fanny w T as a 
 pretty, saucy, dark-eyed girl, with spirits to match 
 her brother's, and a great crony of Arthur, of whom 
 she was just enough the senior to find her chief 
 delight in teasing and patronizing him. And Char- 
 ley was the companion-in-arms of the twins. 
 Other great-aunts, uncles, and second cousins 
 there were, but the Osbornes were the most eager- 
 ly welcomed guests, — the only ones, indeed, near 
 the ages of the Stanley boys. 
 
 There was plenty to do to wear away the hours 
 before dinner, — Lillie to be introduced, admired, 
 and caressed by Fanny, on whose good-natured 
 complacency the airs and dignity of the little lady 
 made no impression, save one of amusement; the 
 kitchen and Prissy to be visited, and secret tours 
 of inspection to be made to the pantry by the 
 more juvenile portions of the family. (Such stores 
 as Prissy had laid in ! Such baking and brewing 
 
THANKSGIVING AND DOINGS OF THE " J. G. T." 95 
 
 as had been going on for days— even cousin Sue 
 had been called on for help!) 
 
 Liilie Dalton had never had a day of such healthy, 
 child-like pleasure in her life; and her brothel 
 smiled to himself, or to Sue, several times in the 
 course of the morning, to see how sunny and happy 
 the child seemed with the other children — all her 
 petulance and her little affectations and vanities 
 laid aside. 
 
 About an hour, however, before the dinner bell 
 was expected to ring, a great whispering arose 
 among Arthur, Fanny, and Bob, and presently 
 they had disappeared mysteriously, while Lillie 
 found herself with only the little boys for com- 
 panions. 
 
 "Where are they all, cousin Sue?" she asked, 
 disconsolately : she had, insensibly, of late caught 
 the name from the Stanleys. 
 
 Sue shook her head, mysteriously. "I rather 
 think," said she, smilingly, "that it is the annual 
 secret session of the J. G. T. Club." 
 
 "I don't know what you mean," said Lillie, pet- 
 tishly; "and I wish people wouldn't have secrets 
 going on, unless everybody in the company can 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 know them ; I always heard it wasn't polite. What 
 does J. G. T. stand for, cousin Sue?" 
 
 "Jolly Good Time, I'm sorry to say!" said 
 Sue, with a laughing glance at Guy. "A good 
 many years ago, Lillie, when I was qujite a little 
 girl, we got up this club among ourselves to devise 
 amusements for Thanksgiving Day and holidays 
 generally. We used to steal away by ourselves, 
 just in this way, to plan games and surprises for 
 the evening, and then come out at dinner time with 
 something very original and delightful." 
 
 "And don't you belong now?" asked Lillie, in- 
 terested. 
 
 ?? No ; after one reaches the venerable age of 
 eighteen, the club thinks him or her too old and 
 
 o 7 
 
 grave : so the members are constantly changing. 
 Sometimes, however, they allow them to be honor- 
 ary members after eighteen, if they have been very 
 valuable < J. G. T.'s,' like Mr. Jack Osborne, for 
 instance. I remember, when I was a child, it was 
 the greatest desire of all the children in the family 
 to be twelve years old, that they might belong." 
 
 "I'm twelve!" said Lillie, eagerly. "Don't you 
 think they'd let me in?" 
 
THANKSGIVING AND DOINGS OF THE " J. G. T." 97 
 
 "Perhaps by and by you'll be voted in," said Sue. 
 
 But Lillie's curiosity and interest had been strong- 
 ly awakened. The pink flush in her cheeks deep- 
 ened, and her blue eyes sparkled, as she looked 
 up, saying, earnestly, "But I want to belong now 
 — this very minute. O, cousin Sue, don't you 
 think they'd let me in if I went now, this very 
 minute, and told them I was twelve? 5 ' 
 
 " Why, my dear," said Sue, gently, her cheeks 
 flushing a little, as she saw Guy look up, "you 
 wouldn't want to go, you know, before you were 
 asked. Charley, and Jimmie, and Geoffrey are 
 content to wait." 
 
 "But they are children! " cried Lillie, passionately. 
 "/ am old enough, — I'm twelve now, — and I think 
 it very mean and rude of them to go off and leave 
 me, and very unkind of you not to tell them to 
 have me ! " 
 
 " I have nothing to do with it now, Lillie, you 
 know," said Sue, still gently. 
 
 At the first sound of his sister's voice, rising in 
 anger in her last speech, Colonel Dalton got up and 
 left the room. He had to do it sometimes, if he 
 wanted to keep his promise to Sue of not having 
 7 
 
98 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 any personal feelings about Lillie. As he passed 
 her, however, he gave her just the least little bit 
 of a glance ; it was hardly a second that his eye 
 rested on her, but it brought back to her, in an in- 
 describable way, that evening when she lay on the 
 sofa in his arms ; and before Sue's soft answer 
 came, her wrath was turned aside. 
 
 "I know it," said she, in a changed voice ; and un- 
 able to get any further, so vividly did Guy's glance 
 rise up before her, she abruptly left the room. 
 
 " Little fury ! " said a voice from the deep-cur- 
 tained window-seat. 
 
 Sue turned quickly. " O, Jack, are you there? 
 I hope Lillie did not see you ; the poor child would 
 never get over her mortification ! " 
 
 "J. hope she did," said Mr. Jack, rising. "The 
 little hypocrite ! To think that the little soft- 
 spoken, sweet-voiced pussy, who came mincing up 
 to me, an hour ago, with her pretty little airs and 
 graces, could fly into such a rage as that ! " 
 
 "She came out of it very quickly," said Sue, 
 coloring. "But, Jack," — changing the subject 
 quickly, — "I thought you were -vUu the f J. G. T, 1 
 How did you come here ? " 
 
THANKSGIVING AND DOINGS OF THE " J, G. T." 99 
 
 w O, I preferred a quiet cigar," said Mr. Jack, 
 nonchalantly; "but I'm not sure that I won't look 
 in upon them now, and see what sort of a captain 
 Fanny makes." And off he went, leaving Sue very 
 much grieved that her little pupil should have been 
 seen at such an unfavorable time by any stranger. 
 Troublesome as Lillie was to her, she was growing 
 very fond of her. Atiast the dinner bell rang, and 
 there was a rush of expectant youngsters. True to 
 their desire of having a good appetite for the turkey 
 and plum-pudding, they had staunchly resisted offers 
 of luncheon, and were fully justified now in being 
 hungry. 
 
 The long table was, indeed, a goodly sight — the 
 white cloth covered with smoking dishes, grand- 
 mamma smiling at the head, grandpapa beaming at 
 the foot of the table, a long array of aunts and 
 cousins between. 
 
 For the young people a small table was placed in 
 the corner — a time-out-of-mind custom in the Os- 
 borne family, and heartily appreciated by the young- 
 sters, as they could then have their fast and furious 
 fun, unchecked by the presence of their elders. And 
 many were the commiserations bestowed upon Sue, 
 
100 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 whose twenty-one years had banished her from the 
 "Young Folks' Table." Loud, too, were the accla- 
 mations when Jack Osborne took his seat among 
 them ; he had been the life of that little table for 
 many Thanksgivings, and more than one of them 
 had felt a pang of apprehension as he noted the cane, 
 the moustache, the growing preference for Sue's 
 society over theirs, and remembered that cousin 
 Jack had outgrown the "J. G. T." Would he still 
 sit at the Young Folks' Table? A joyful "Yes" 
 was the answer, and even Fanny joined in the 
 shout; for, stout-hearted as she was, she had felt 
 a little uneasiness at the possibility of having to 
 wear Jack's fallen mantle at that table. The fun 
 was fast and furious, indeed, under Jack's lead, and 
 such peals of laughter greeted his jokes, that the 
 old folks caught the infection, and laughed almost 
 as much as the rest. There was not a sober face 
 for a moment among the young folks, except, per- 
 haps, the moment when Jimmie thought of papa and 
 mamma hundreds of miles away, or Bob felt a little 
 pang at missing his little Lillic in her high chair 
 at his elbow. And then, before the end of the 
 moment, both Bob and Jimmie remembered papa's 
 
THANKSGIVING AND DOINGS OF THE " J. G. T." 101 
 
 "Keep brave hearts and bright faces," and smiled 
 again. 
 
 Through turkey and chicken-pie, plum-pudding, 
 and pies innumerable, they worked their way to 
 dessert, when, by a certain whispering and laugh- 
 ing, and suppressed excitement among the "J. G. 
 T.'s," it became evident that, in the vulgar parlance, 
 " something was in the wind." Besides the dishes 
 of fruit, there was candy, and among it certain large 
 pink cockle-shells, which, on inspection, proved to 
 bear the names of "Lillie," " Arthur," and the other 
 feasters, in small, inked letters. Great curiosity 
 w T as of course excited. 
 
 " Why, I've got two ! " cried Lillie, flushed with 
 delight. 
 
 "You mayn't like them," said cousin Jack, grimly. 
 " Some have pepper inside." 
 
 But Lillie, undeterred, opened her cockle-shell 
 forthwith, and drew out a little folded paper. 
 
 "Why, it's poetry!" said she. 
 
 " Well, read it aloud," said the master of ceremo- 
 nies ; " and remember that everything issued by the 
 f J. G. TV is to be received in perfect good under- 
 Standing and good faith by the members thereof, 
 
102 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 and by all possible candidates for admission to the 
 Club." 
 
 Thus admonished, Lillie opened and read,— 
 
 Little Miss Lillie, 
 
 Don't be silly, 
 Affected, word or tone: 
 
 There's an old saw 
 
 You've heard before, 
 Which says, " Let well alone.* 
 
 "Well" means for you — 
 
 Such is ray view — 
 Yourself, simple and loving; 
 
 And each new air 
 
 Does but impair, 
 What did not need improving! 
 
 "That's Bob, I'm sure," said Jimmie ; but he was 
 sorry he had said it the next minute, for Lillie 
 looked across the table at Bob, with a momentary 
 flash of her eyes. Seeming, however, to remember 
 Jack's warning, she commanded herself by an unu- 
 sual effort, and only said, — 
 
 "I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Bob, for thinking 
 me affected and silly ! " 
 
 "He didn't say that," said Arthur ("Genera] 
 Apropos," as Fanny sometimes called him). "He 
 only warned you not to be so. And I am sure lie? 
 
THANKSGIVING AND DOINGS OF THE " J. G. T." 
 
 paid you a very delicate compliment in saying that 
 you did not ueed improving." 
 Lillie smiled again. 
 
 "Besides," said Fanny, "even if it hadn't been 
 flattering, why, it's half the fun, you know, to hit 
 one another's weak points. Come, Arthur, read 
 yours ! " 
 
 "I think your impatience is suspicious, Mistress 
 Fanny," said Arthur; and he read, — 
 
 Now, who's this young man, I should like you to guess, 
 
 With the passable face and the very fine dress. 
 
 With his spotless white linen, and boots freshly blacked, 
 
 You'd think from a bandbox he'd just been unpacked; 
 
 With his pretty politeness, his dandified air, 
 
 His charming low bow, and that calm savoir faire, 
 
 He's a very fine fellow — with only one flaw — 
 
 If he thought of it less, other people would more. 
 
 A shout of laughter greeted this effusion; and 
 "Bravo, Fanny!" said her brother; "that's really 
 o-ood. I shall have a worthy successor to fill my 
 place as Ludimagister ! " 
 
 It is undeniable that the verse contained some 
 pretty hard hits at Arthur ; but he kept his temper 
 admirably, and only said, with one of his " charm- 
 ino- low bows" to Fanny, "Take care, Miss Sauce- 
 
104 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 box; I rather think you'll find your pay for that 
 attack on my good name ! " 
 
 " Let me see," said saucy Fanny ; and opening 
 her shell, she read,— 
 
 No rose, they say, without its thorn : 
 
 Yet who would not be fain 
 To own the rose, of prickles shorn, 
 
 A double charm would gain? 
 So, Fanny, though we prize your grace, 
 Your ready wit, and pretty face, 
 These charms were worthier to be sung, 
 Minus that member sharp, your tongue ! 
 
 "Thank you, Arty," said Fanny; "I'm sure, far 
 from being what I deserve, it is a very pretty piece 
 of gallantry, and I shall preserve it in lavender, 
 with your photograph." 
 
 "Very pretty, Arthur," repeated grandpapa, from 
 the other table ; "I must say I fancy such a thing as 
 that better than the sharp attacks on each other's 
 weak points you young folks seem fond of making. 
 But look ! Sue seems to have got one, though that 
 is quite out of bounds, I should think, for an 'old 
 folk.' Read it, Sue." 
 
 "I hardly think it is meant for the public oar," 
 said Sue, hesitating a little. She had been gkux* 
 
THANKSGIVING AND DOINGS OF THE ee J, G. T." 105 
 
 cing over it. "But if every one promises to remem- 
 ber the stipulation of the ? J. G. T.,' and take every- 
 thing in good part, I'll read." 
 
 Everybody promised, and Sue read, coloring a 
 little, — 
 
 Cousin Sue, 
 
 If I were you, 
 I wouldn't be too mild. 
 
 Say, "Yes" and "No," 
 
 " You must do so ; " 
 That's the way to treat a child. 
 
 Believe a friend ; 
 
 You'll find, in the end, 
 All sweetness doesn't pay. 
 
 A timely scold - 
 
 Or, so I hold ■ — 
 She'll thank you for, some day. 
 
 "Whew ! " said grandpapa ; " that is a little sharp, 
 I think." 
 
 "It's too bad," said Lillie, a little inclined to cry, 
 " for Bob to write so about me twice ! " 
 
 **-I'9" cried Bob. "I give you my word of honor 
 it wasn't I ! It was an anonymous composition, 
 sent in at the last moment. Wasn't it, f J. G. T.'s'?" 
 
 The members of the Club unanimously respond- 
 ing in the affirmative, Lillie only said, "Well, it 
 
iOG 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 sounds like the one Bob did write ! " and further 
 appeased by Jiminie's whispered, "It's Thanks- 
 giving, you know, Lillie ! " managed to put on a 
 bright face, and to be pleased with a pretty little 
 verse which Arthur had written her - — something 
 about flowers in general, and lilies in particular, 
 of course. 
 
 Meanwhile cousin Sue had taken her pencil, 
 and writing in her little pocket-book for a few 
 minutes, contrived to toss it over to Jack, un- 
 observed by the others. He picked it up, and 
 read with rather a shamefaced expression, — 
 
 My wise young friend, since at your age so much you know, 
 Did you never chance to hear this axiom, " Time will show" ? 
 Or, in some talk like that of this occasion, 
 Hear any one extol the force of moral suasion ? 
 
 The anonymous correspondent reddened a little, 
 and presently returning the pocket-book, said, 
 unnoticed still by the others, "I beg your pardon, 
 Sue." 
 
 " Not mine" said Sue, significantly ; and then 
 both turned round to listen to an effusion of Bob's, 
 which was making great fun at the little table. 
 It was called 
 
THANKSGIVING AND DOINGS OF THE " J. G 
 
 BIG HATS AND LITTLE MICE. 
 
 " WHICH IS AN ALLEGORY." 
 
 Prissy has a closet, 
 
 In which she keeps a store 
 Of goodies, — cakes and jelly, 
 
 And half a dozen more. 
 
 To guard this precious closet 
 
 From predatory chits 
 Is Prissy's daily business, 
 
 A sharpener of her wits. 
 
 One little mouse, in special, 
 
 Has such an appetite, 
 In self-defence she grants him 
 
 Sometimes a furtive bite. 
 
 If this thief were the only one, 
 
 No aid she'd need to call, 
 For mice, however troublesome, 
 
 Are small things, after all. 
 
 But when, last year's vacation, 
 She pounced on a big rat, 
 
 Prissy lost all patience, 
 
 And vowed she'd have a cat. 
 
 Moral. 
 
 Now, if tall Sophs must plunder, 
 " Swell Sophs," with canes so fine. 
 
 What's to be hoped, I wonder, 
 From little chaps of nine? 
 
103 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 The laugh was turned against cousin Jack now, and 
 so much fun was made of the " big rat," that Geof- 
 frey, the "little mouse," escaped nearly scot-free, 
 and felt as if, from the form of Bob's rather danger- 
 ous moral, it would be quite the thing for him to 
 plunder Prissy's stores in future. So very amusing 
 was Bob's wit found to be, that the w Ludimagister ;<> 
 had need of his moustache — of his cane too, if 
 it had been at hand — to help him maintain his 
 dignity amid the shouts of laughter, and break 
 up the session of the Young Folks' Table with 
 due decorum. 
 
 To the parlor, then, they adjourned, and dancing 
 set in. From the large proportion of boys over 
 girls among the grandchildren, all the girls were 
 great belles, and Lillie, especially, was in great 
 demand. Arthur, however, was the successful 
 claimant for the opening quadrille, and while Jack 
 danced with Sue, and Bob with anybody he could 
 lay hands on, Jimmie, to the great amusement of 
 everybody, led out his grandmother, and Fanny was 
 immensely gratified by a dance with Colonel Dal- 
 ton. Other dances followed, and, in the course of a 
 waltz, cousin Jack confessed to Lillie that he had 
 
THANKSGIVING AND DOINGS OF THE r J. G. T." 109 
 
 been the author of the offending composition. But 
 if I must tell the truth, the little coquette's vanity 
 was too much flattered by the attention of so fine a 
 young man as Mr. Jack Osborne to resent it as deep- 
 ly as if it had been really Bob who wrote it; and 
 naughty cousin Jack laughed in his sleeve when he 
 noted this fact. 
 
 I wish I had time and space to tell, or you patience 
 to hear, the fun that followed when the games began ; 
 how grandpapa, grandmamma, and all the aunts and 
 cousins, played "Blind Man's Buff," and "Fox and 
 Geese," till Geoffrey was forced to sit down in the 
 latter game from sheer weakness, brought on by 
 laughter; how, finally, cousin Jack, a true Ludi- 
 magister now, did in a game of " Thread the Needle," 
 in which the thread was so long that it reached from 
 attic to cellar, so double, twist, and turn, to the un- 
 speakable confusion of all, and the gre it jamming 
 and squeezing of some, that grandpapa, mystified, 
 declared he did not know T his own house ! But all 
 good things have a limit as well as an end ; and the 
 end came to the merry Thanksgiving night, as it 
 must to my chapter. 
 
 " A whole year to next Thanksgiving ! " said Geof- 
 
110 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 frey, straining his eyes after the carriages, as they 
 drove down the moonlit avenue, the oft-repeated 
 good byes growing fainter and fainter. " O, I have 
 had such a splendid time ! " 
 
THE FIRST FOREIGN LETTER. 
 
 Ill 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE FIRST FOREIGN LETTER. 
 
 AMONG the pleasures of my four boys, I must 
 not forget to speak of one, which, though of a 
 very different nature from Thanksgiving delights, 
 was a very great pleasure, and one long looked for. 
 I mean, the first letter from the travellers. It came 
 just the day before Thanksgiving, and was found by 
 Bob, lying, as a pleasant surprise for the first comer, 
 on the hall table. With a joyful exclamation, he 
 summoned his brothers, and the four young heads 
 clustered over the letter, which was written by their 
 father. 
 
 Liverpool, November 15. 
 
 My dear Boys — Arthur, Bob, Jimmie, and 
 Geoffrey: I name you all, lest any one of you 
 should think himself forgotten ; though, if you could 
 be here with us on the first day of our finding our- 
 belves again on terra firma, you would know how im- 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 possible it is that we should forget you. This is the 
 first day of our being on land, as I said, and my very 
 first act shall be to write to you, for I know that 
 every one of you has been asking, as he came down 
 to breakfast, for three mornings, at least, before this 
 will reach you, " Has the postman been yet, and is 
 there a letter for us ? " 
 
 You may be sure that many times during the 
 voyage mamma has said, "And are you not going to 
 write to the children to-day, Arthur?" And each 
 time I would reply, "Perhaps, by and by." Then I 
 would take pencil and paper, and begin a letter to 
 you ; but presently my eyes would begin to swim, 
 and the letters would be very hard to form with my 
 shaky hand; so the letter was finally put aside, to 
 wait for dry land, and a truce of that perpetual 
 motion. 
 
 Sea voyages, boys, are very poor things, in my 
 opinion ; and, whatever career you may decide upon, 
 Geoffie, some ten years hence, I hope it won't be a 
 sailor's. We have had some pretty rough weather, 
 as was to be expected, in November. When the 
 waves dashed against the porthole in our state-room, 
 mamma was frightened, and little Lillio said, "I 
 
THE FIRST FOREIGN LETTER. 
 
 113 
 
 guest* we're going to have a shower-bath presently." 
 Then, of course, everybody would be seasick; so it 
 was no shame even for a Hercules like papa! Wo 
 would all retire to our berths, and be comfortably 
 miserable, if you know what that means, Bob. 
 
 Next morning, however, would come a bright sun, 
 and, as bandboxes are never the pleasantest habita- 
 tions, I would say to mamma, "I think I'll go up on 
 deck, and see the waves;" and up to the deck I would 
 mount, clinging fast to the railing. I wish you could 
 have seen the great waves, Arthur, rolling about the 
 steamer ; they made me think of the marine pieces 
 you and I saw in the picture galleries, last winter, 
 when you would say, "Now I know that is not true 
 to nature." 
 
 So I would sit down on the deck and watch the 
 waves for a little while, then go back, perforce, to 
 the bandbox below. Then there would be beauti- 
 ful oalm days, when the water was as smooth and 
 blue as the lake looks on summer days from grand- 
 papa's piazza, and it seemed a sin not to feel that a 
 sea voyage was perfection. But even then there was 
 a lazy feeling, which to me is never enjoyment. Only 
 think, Jimmie, of not having the energy to read! 
 8 
 
114 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 But I mustn't tell you of all the drawbacks of the 
 voyage, especially as, now it is over, and Ave are safe 
 in England, I feel the better for it. There were 
 clear, moonlight nights, with the stars shining bright 
 over our heads, and the waves beneath perfectly 
 radiant with phosphorescent light, when mamma and 
 I walked the deck, and only wished for you boys to 
 enjoy with us. But if I begin to tell you of when 
 we wished for you, where shall I stop? I was going 
 to write about an English family on board, in whom 
 I was much interested, because the four children 
 made me think of you; but I stopped, because I 
 found that I was really thinking of you all the time, 
 and only noticed the children because I had you all 
 before me. I shall fancy you on Thanksgiving Day, 
 and all your merry frolics — the dancing, the games 
 in the evening, cousin Jack at your head, and the 
 all-important meeting of the w J. G. T." Don't have 
 a sober face, my little Jimmie, when you think of us 
 on that day. We are with you, after all, you see. 
 
 And so, having you all in my head, I began to 
 preach a little sermon to you last Sunday morning, 
 as T lay on the deck with my eyes hiilf shut, and to 
 weave into it all the texts J gave you in our last 
 
THE FIRST FOREIGN LETTER. 
 
 115 
 
 Sunday talk. I wondered if you all knew what I 
 meant, when I told you that I wanted each one of you 
 to be a law to himself, and not depend on awy person 
 tor his guide. This living from one's own princi- 
 ples, my little fellows, is the highest kind cf living; 
 all of you, even Geoffrey can understand this part 
 of my little sermon, if you take it to heart and think 
 about it. High principles, firm purposes : you all 
 know what those mean — don't you ? And each of 
 you can form to himself an ideal of what he ought to 
 be, and live up to it as nearly as he can. 
 
 There will be days when you feel discouraged, 
 and as if you fell far short of this ideal — as if you 
 never could reach it. Never mind ; begin again 
 fresh the next morning ; it is a new day. There 
 will be days again when everything seems dreary 
 and blank — not worth the trying for. Take cour- 
 age again, and remember that life is not a pleasure 
 only, after all ; it is an opportunity and a lesson. 
 
 Fight on, my little soldiers, and let me find that 
 you have gained ground in this year of depending 
 on yourselves. Remember — to you, Arthur, espe- 
 cially I say this — that living is not all having; it 
 
1 1 (3 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 is part giving, and a great deal learning to dc 
 without.. 
 
 To you, particularly, Bob, I say again, don't be 
 discouraged if the reality of life falls far short of 
 what you imagined it. Great wholes are made up 
 of little parts ; and days, that look like poor small 
 things, taken singly, to the person who longs to be 
 doing great things in life, will form a beautiful 
 whole some day, if the person only learns his lesson 
 in them. 
 
 Am I talking too far above my little twins' heads, 
 I wonder? I hope, then, that Jimmie is remember- 
 ing what I said about not making his own world, 
 too much— not burying himself too much, I mean, 
 in grandpapa's library, but going out into the fresh 
 air, interesting himself in real things as well as in 
 dreams, and being all he can to the people in the 
 world outside. And to show him how fully I believe 
 that little things are not to be despised, let me say 
 that I hope he is skating often on the lake, and that 
 when spring comes, he will borrow a little base ball 
 from Bob. I know that minds arc the best part of 
 us, but bodies are not to be neglected, as I find to 
 my cost. 
 
THE FIRST FOREIGN LETTER. 
 
 117 
 
 And how is Geoffrey getting on, and how are 
 those moral feet of his growing? To him, too, 1 
 say, that life is not all taking, and that the youngest 
 among us can give something, and be something to 
 others. 
 
 I fear, dear boys, you will think my first letter 
 home is too grave, and we will call it, if you please, 
 not the first letter from Europe, but a few words I 
 forgot to say to you before leaving home. Indeed, 
 you know my travels have scarcely yet begun ; for 
 all I have seen as yet, even of smoky, black Liver- 
 pool, is from my hotel window ; next time you shall 
 have something brighter. Mamma and Lillie send 
 love and kisses, and one and all of us wish you a 
 merry Thanksgiving. God bless you all. 
 
 Your Father. 
 
 The letter was grave, as Mr. Stanley had said ; but 
 he need not have been afraid of disappointment when 
 it should be read. Neither Arthur nor Bob made 
 any remarks on it, — it was not the way with either 
 of them, — and Jimmie's happy, " ! call that a real 
 Thanksgiving Day letter ! " was the only comment 
 made. But if they did not speak, they thought — 
 
118 
 
 i 1 \ 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Bob especially. As for Geoffrey, it is true that 
 papa's high thoughts were sometimes above his com- 
 prehension ; and yet he felt the better for them. 
 They gave him a sort of good, holy feeling, he him- 
 self once said — the same feeling that filled his blue 
 eyes with tears in Sunday talks at home. And as 
 the little fellow went off to his play, with his joyous, 
 childish face, some words would echo in his mind 
 like these, for instance: "Life is not all having; 
 it is part giving, and a good deal learning to do 
 without." 
 
prissy's story about old times. 
 
 119 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 prissy's story about "old times." 
 IHE holiday season had set in, and Lakeside Hill 
 
 was one of the places where it was kept in 
 earnest. Of course there was to be a Christmas 
 tree on Christmas, but, besides that* all sorts of 
 merry-making was going on before Christmas actu- 
 ally arrived. Fanny and Charley Osborne had come 
 to spend the holidays at their grandfather's, and 
 there is always plenty of merry-making where so 
 many young heads and joyous hearts are together. 
 And cousin Jack, with many grumblings against the 
 Faculty for not giving the college a week's vacation 
 at Christmas, yet managed to run over for the 
 evening, as a general thing. 
 
 What a grand time they had! Skating and 
 sleighing in the morning, theatricals in the even- 
 ing, in which even Colonel Dalton took part, and, 
 laying aside his gravity, became, to the delight of 
 
120 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Lillie, the most merry brother in the world. There 
 were parties, too, in the neighborhood, to which 
 Sue, and sometimes Fanny, went, and Lillie sighed 
 to be a young lady, that she might go too. Where- 
 upon kind grandpapa, taking pity on her, promised 
 her a party for herself on New Year's Ev.e, that she 
 might dance the old year out. Then, on rainy days, 
 they adjourned en masse to the attic, and made the 
 house ring with their shouts and laughter. Some- 
 times, too, in the course of the long winter evening, 
 they descended to the kitchen, and teased Prissy for 
 a story of " long ago." 
 
 This is where they were assembled on the evening 
 I am now writing about ; the making of molasses 
 candy being the ostensible reason, and a general 
 willingness to profit by any opportunity for fun, 
 which might offer, the true cause of their movement. 
 It was just the night for candy-making — clear and 
 cold, with snow piled on the window T -sills. The 
 molasses was boiling in the great kettle, and Sue, 
 who, with the colonel, had promised to be present at 
 the "pulling," had gone away, declaring that she had 
 not patience to wait down stairs during the prelim- 
 inary stages of the molasses. The other young 
 
prissy's story about old times. 
 
 121 
 
 people, more interested, grouped round the fire, 
 and, as by one consent, demanded from Prissy a 
 story of old times, while they were waiting. 
 
 " Why, I don't know, dears," Prissy made answer, 
 ?f as I've got anything worth the hearing to tell you. 
 The young gentlemen are so clever, and Master 
 Jimmie here reads so much, I don't feel as if 
 I could tell them anything they don't know al- 
 ready." 
 
 This being Prissy's modest disclaimer on all occa- 
 sions, Fanny only said, " Why, you know, Prissy, 
 not one of us, however clever, can be expected to 
 know about things that happened before we were 
 born." 
 
 "I should think not, indeed," said Prissy, with a 
 laugh ; " and if it's those things you want to hear 
 about, Miss Fanny, I dare say I can rake up some- 
 thing to tell you ; though, I declare, I should think 
 you might know every one of my old stories by 
 heart before now r ." 
 
 Arthur, coming to Fanny's aid in the difficult task 
 of soothing Prissy's sensitive modesty, soon succeed- 
 ed in removing her scruples ; the children all settled 
 themselves comfortably, the venerable story-teller 
 
122 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 took up her knitting, and began, without moie ado, 
 in her pleasant, rambling fashion. 
 
 "Well, then, dears, when you were making such 
 a racket up garret this morning, with your bean- 
 bags, and I don't know what all besides, youv grand- 
 ma'am saj^s to me, * Well, Prissy, I don't think this 
 old house ever heard more noise and laughter than it 
 has this last week, long as it's stood.' I didn't say 
 anything, but thinks I to myself, ? Well, Mrs. Os- 
 borne, I guess you've forgotten the time when these 
 children's fathers and mothers were young, and were 
 making just such a noise themselves.' 
 
 "Not that Mr. Robert made much noise, either; 
 for, though he had a merry voice and eye, — Miss 
 Sue's like him there, — and liked a bit of fun as 
 well as any one, he was always grave and thought- 
 ful outside. As for Miss Fanny, — I mean your 
 mother, Master Arthur, — she had spirits enough, 
 but she was a, girl, after all ; and when girls get on 
 long dresses, and their hair turned up, they don't 
 generally do much running and shouting. But Mr. 
 John — lie made up for half a dozen ! Why, Miss 
 Fanny, my dear, though they do call your brother, 
 Mr. Jack, such a rogue, he isn't for a minute to be 
 
prtssy's stohy about old times. 
 
 123 
 
 named in the same breath with his father at his age 
 for tricks and teasing. His age, did I say? No, 
 nor two or three years older, either; for I have 
 thought Mr. Jack was sobering down a bit of late. 
 But Mr. John ! Well, children, he was just the age 
 of Mr. Jack — in his third year in college, when he 
 played us all a trick I thought we'd never hear the 
 last of. We'd heard a good deal for some time (I 
 say we, because I was a good deal about up stairs 
 that year; I wasn't well, and your grandma'am took 
 an idea that I shouldn't do the cooking) ,— we'd 
 heard a good deal from Mr. John, then, about a 
 friend of his at college — a Mr. Arthur Stanley. 
 (That was your dear pa, you know, Master Geof- 
 frey.) Well, he talked about him so much, praising 
 him for this, that, and the other, — for Mr. John 
 was always ready to praise other people, — and what 
 a fine scholar he was, and what a splendid fellow, 
 that your grandpa says, * Well, let us see this par- 
 agon of yours, John.' 
 
 "'I'm all ready, sir,' says he; 'it's just what I 
 want to do — to bring him here. I want Fanny to 
 fall in love with him, and then I'll be sure to get just 
 the brother-in-law I want.' 
 
124 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "At that Miss Fanny blushed, and your grandpa 
 frowned a little, for he never could bear to hear such 
 things talked about in fun. But by and by Mr. 
 Robert, who had left college, and was studying law, 
 began to tell us, too, in his quiet fashion, about Mr. 
 Arthur Stanley, — what high principles he had, and 
 how he thought he was having a very good influence 
 over Mr. John; for though he never had a bit of 
 anything bad in him, your pa was a bit wild in those 
 days, Miss Fanny. At that, your grandpa thought 
 more of it, — he always set such store by what Mr. 
 Robert said, — and he spoke again to Mr. John. 
 
 "'Suppose,' says he, e you bring this friend of 
 yours — Stanley, I mean — home with you for the 
 Christmas holidays.' 
 
 "'All right, sir,' says Mr. John; ? so I will.' 
 
 "Well, in those days we used to hear a good deal 
 from Mr. John of some masquerading club he'd just 
 got into at college — " 
 
 " Hasty Pudding ! " interrupted Charley. 
 
 "Yes, dear, — and how he dressed up m woman's 
 clothes, and if one of us could sec him we shouldn't 
 know him from a girl. 
 
 "'Pooh ! ' says your grandpa, — he always hated to 
 
prissy's story about old times. 
 
 125 
 
 be told he could be taken in, — f I should know you 
 anywhere, John.' 
 
 " f Do you think so, sir?' cried Mr. John. r I 
 would be willing to wager I could deceive you even 
 in man's clothes, if I tried;' and that made your 
 grandpa very mad. The Christmas holidays came 
 on, and Mr. Arthur Stanley was to come home with 
 Mr. John to Lakeside Hill here — and how that 
 rogue, Mr. John, would make poor Miss Fanny 
 blush, telling her to be sure to make herself pretty 
 when his friend came ! 
 
 " It was the day they were expected ; they were 
 all in the parlor, and I was there, too, about some- 
 thing or other, when the parlor girl opened the door, 
 saying, ? A gentleman to see you, sir ; ' and in 
 walked a young man. I knew it was Mr. Stanley ; 
 so I looked up quick, to get a glimpse of him before 
 I went out. But I must say I w 7 as disappointed. 
 I thought to myself I'd never seen such an awkward- 
 looking fellow — such big feet, and pants half way 
 up his boots, very seedy-looking clothes, and such 
 thick red hair and whiskers, looking as if they hadn't 
 seen the comb for days.. He had very bright black 
 eyes, but that was all ; and I said to myself, f Well; 
 
126 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 that is a. strange fellow for Mr. John to take a fancy 
 to!' — for Mr. John, like your grandpa, thought a 
 deal of people's looks, and was always as trim and 
 neat as a new pin himself. 
 
 "Well, I saw your grandpa was a little surprised; 
 but he got up in his polite way, and was beginning, 
 'Mr. Stanley?' when the young man burst out in 
 such a loud voice, that I declare I jumped. 
 
 ??? Yes, that's my name — your son's friend, you 
 know. How are you, Mrs. Osborne? And this 
 is Miss Fanny, I suppose — I've heard all about 
 you!' and he shook hands all round, in the most 
 free-and-easy way possible. (I ought to have told 
 you, by the way, that Mr. Robert wasn't at home 
 that night.) 
 
 '''I'm very glad to see you, Mr. Stanley,' said 
 your grandpa, a little stiff— for he had his own 
 ideas of politeness, and didn't quite like the young 
 man's speaking to Miss Fanny so familiar. c Yes, 
 this is my daughter. Mr. Stanley, my dear. But 
 isn't my son with you ? ' 
 
 " f Dear, no ! I forgot all about that, 1 declare ! ' and 
 the young man laughed a great loud laugh, so that 
 your grandma'am looked up surprised. Mack wasn't 
 
pkissy's story about old times. 127 
 
 very well to-night, though he hopes to get here to- 
 morrow ; «o I came to make my introduction in 
 person, without waiting for him to bri 
 bate ceremony among friends ! ' 
 
 K Well, the conversation seemed to be dragging a 
 little when I left the room, for both your grandpa 
 and grandma'am were surprised, and didn't know 
 what to make of the young fellow. And as for Miss 
 Fanny, though she blushed like a rose whenever he 
 looked at her, she drew up her head quite stately, 
 and hardly answered him. But nothing put down 
 young Mr. Stanley ; he talked away, loud and fast ; 
 laughed at his own jokes, and told stories about 
 college, and what a good friend 'Jack' was to him." 
 
 "I don't like to hear such things about papa," 
 said Geoffrey, inclined to be offended. 
 
 " O, you wait till we get to the end, Master Geof- 
 frey," said Prissy, sagely. "When the table girl 
 came down stairs, she said the young man was going 
 on at such a rate at tea that Mrs. Osborne didn't know 
 where to look. He ate so much, that, as she said, 
 she should think he had been starved for a week, and 
 stuck out his elbows like «, grasshopper. 
 
 R In the evening they were going to have a little 
 
128 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 company, and get up a dance, as they often did; foi 
 your grandpa liked gayety and young people, and 
 Miss Fanny was a great favorite. I used to stand at 
 the door sometimes and look on, and you may be 
 sure I went that night. Well, there was Mr. Stan- 
 ley, dancing away with Miss Fanny, still in his old 
 coat and the great rough boots. He was so awk- 
 ward that he ran into everybody ; and Miss Fanny, 
 who was a pretty dancer, was so ashamed that she 
 didn't know which way to look. Then I could see 
 him talking away to her, in his great loud voice, 
 and paying her compliments to her face. Presently 
 she came over near to where I was standing, where 
 there was a group of young girls ; and they all 
 wanted to know who that queer young man was. 
 
 "'That is a college friend of my brother John,' 
 said poor Miss Fanny, blushing. <I know he's a 
 little odd, but my brothers both say he is such 
 a good fellow, and John is very fond of him.' 
 
 "'Well, there's no accounting for tastes,' said 
 the young lady. 'He certainly seems very much 
 pleased with you, Fanny dear.' 
 
 " ' O, it's only his way,' said poor Miss Fanny. ' I 
 know lie is odd, and, as he ionics fioni the eotmtiy, 
 
PKISSY'S STOliY ABOUT OLD TIMES. 
 
 129 
 
 THE QUEER YOUNG MAN. 
 
 very likely he does not know much about society. 
 But he is very good, and is going to be a minister, 
 I believe' 
 
 "And upon that, I thought the other young girls 
 would have died of laughing. But, for all Miss 
 Fanny's pretty, pleasant words, I knew she didn't 
 like Mr. Stanley a bit. 
 
 "By and by everybody had gone, and Mr. Stanley 
 went up to his room. Then I heard your grandpa 
 9 
 
130 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 and grandma and Miss Fanny talking, and your 
 grandpa blazed right out. 
 
 " ' What sort of a fellow is that, I'd like to know ! 1 
 said he; 'and what does John mean by bringing 
 him here ? ' 
 
 "'It's very odd,' said Miss Fanny; ' I can't bear 
 him; and I don't see what John can find to like in 
 him ; but they say, you know, papa, that people 
 always like their opposites ! ' 
 
 "'Opposites, indeed!' said your grandpa, very 
 angry. "'Well, I will do John the credit to say that 
 there isn't a particle of anything in this fellow like 
 him! But it's all nonsense, Fanny; the man is 
 not a gentleman ; he's a clodhopper, and an im- 
 pudent one besides ! John lets his fancies run away 
 with him, and I shall tell him so to-morrow. I 
 had a good mind to turn Stanley out of the house 
 several times to-night. I firmly believe he was 
 intoxicated ! ' 
 
 "Well, Miss Fanny tried to soothe him by say- 
 ing that very likely Mr. Stanley was embarrassed, 
 and that was one reason he behaved so queerly — 
 lie wasn't used to society. But your grandpa pooh- 
 poohed it all, and went up stairs as angry as possible. 
 
prissy's story about old times. 
 
 131 
 
 "I went down to the kitchen to see that all was 
 to rights, when whom should I find standing on 
 the hearth but Mr. Stanley himself! My heart 
 jumped up in my mouth; for I thought he must 
 have heard all they'd been saying of him ; and, 
 besides, the fellow was so queer. But I hadn't 
 much time to think about it, for he turned right 
 round, and said he, as easy as possible, f O, here 
 you are ! have you got a little something at hand 
 you could give me to eat? I'm used to taking a 
 bite of something solid before I go to bed ! ' 
 
 " I had to turn my face away not to laugh right 
 out, remembering the supper he'd eaten after his 
 tea; but I said, ? Certainly, sir,' as polite as possi- 
 ble, and got out a nice cold chicken. I put it before 
 him, and sat down on the settle with my knitting. 
 He took up his knife and fork, and was just going 
 to begin, when I chanced to look up, uneasy like, 
 and caught his eye. It twinkled as if he wanted 
 to laugh ; and, before I had time to speak, he laid 
 down his knife and fork, and burst into such a fit of 
 laughter, that the tears rolled down his cheeks ; and, 
 what was the funniest part of all, it sounded like a 
 laugh I knew ! 
 
132 
 
 BATTLES aT HOME. 
 
 "'What's the matter, sir?' says I. 
 
 "But he couldn't stop laughing to answer me. 
 
 " f O, Prissy ! ' he gasped, presently, as soon as he 
 could speak. ? To think that I could take you all 
 in with such a barefaced trick as that ! ' 
 
 " I was half frightened, and jumped up quick ; fcr, 
 though I seemed to know the voice, the man with 
 the red hair and whiskers looked so unlike anybody 
 I knew, that the familiar voice only scared me. 
 
 " c Why, Prissy ! ' says he, then, f don't you know 
 me yet?' and he pulled off his red whiskers. 
 
 "'Mr. John!' says I. ' Bless my soul!' But, 
 before I got any farther, your grandpa was standing 
 in the doorway — he never would have any noise in 
 the house after the family were gone to bed. 
 
 "'What's all this, Prissy?' says he, quite stern. 
 'Mr. Stanley, I am surprised — ' 
 
 " But here he caught sight of the man without the 
 red whiskers, and just stood still, staring, with his 
 mouth open, to finish the sentence. 
 
 "'O, father, you will be the death of me!' says 
 the young man, beginning to laugh again ; and with 
 that he put up his hand, pulled off the wig, and 
 stood before us — Mr. John himself! 
 
prissy's story about old times. 
 
 13d 
 
 " f So there isn't a particle of anything in me like 
 joh n _ is there?' said he. f I thought you would 
 have "known me anywhere," sir!' 
 
 "Well, your grandpa found his tongue at last, at 
 that, and I thought Mr. John was going to get it 
 now; but, as he began to speak, the angry look 
 went all out of his face ; he forgot how cheap he 
 felt, and just sat down and laughed as hard as the 
 rest of us. Then your grandma'am and Miss Fanny 
 had to be called, and to hear the whole story; and 
 it was late enough before we got to bed that night." 
 
 "But where was papa, really?" asked Jimmie, as 
 Prissy's appreciative audience hummed applause. 
 
 "O, it was he, who was sick really, not Mr. John. 
 He had sent his excuses by him, and that bad boy 
 had taken the opportunity of Mr. Robert's being 
 away to play us this trick. A day or two afterwards 
 Mr. Arthur Stanley really came, though Miss Fanny 
 declared she never wanted to see the man now, or 
 hear his name again. And to think that after all 
 they should really fall in love with each other, and 
 that he should marry Miss Fanny, and that I should 
 be telling the story now to his children ! Dear, 
 dear ! how many years have gone by dnce then I 
 
134 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 And to think of poor Mr. Eobert being dead, and 
 Mr. John grown into a middle-aged man, and Miss 
 Fanny off in Europe. Dear, dear ! how time flies ! " 
 
 And Prissy raising her apron to wipe away a stray 
 tear, the story might have had a melancholy ending, 
 if, at this moment catching sight of the kettle of 
 molasses, which, in the interest of her narrative, she 
 had almost forgotten to stir, she had not jumped up 
 briskly, exclaiming, — 
 
 r But, dear me, children! here's the kettle just 
 boiling over, and your candy like to be spoiled ! " 
 
 " Cousin Sue ! Colonel Dalton ! come quick ! " 
 shouted Geoffrey, rushing to the foot of the stairs in 
 great excitement. "The candy's boiling over, and 
 it will all be spoiled, if you don't come this very 
 minute ! " 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 
 
 ONE morning in that holiday week, the three 
 younger boys, Charley Osborne, Jimmie, and 
 Geoffrey, together with some of their playmates in 
 the neighborhood, were out with their sleds. 
 Having coasted down hill various times, and tried 
 the delights of both ?? single " and " double runners," 
 Charley, who, like his elder brother Jack, was an 
 enterprising spirit, and fond of variety, began to tire 
 of that diversion, and to look about him in search 
 of something new. Near the hill, up which they had 
 been plodding with their sleds, stood the ice-house, 
 its long, sloping roof covered thickly with frozen 
 snow. A bright idea struck Charley. 
 
 " I'll tell you what, boys ! " cried he. " I'm tired 
 of this old hill. Let's coast down the roof of the 
 ice-house, there. We can drag our sleds up one 
 side just as easy as not." 
 
136 
 
 BATTLES AT ITOM1J. 
 
 "But it's so steep, " objected Jimmie. 
 
 "Well, what of that? The roof comes all but 
 down to the ground ; and if the slant is steep, we 
 shall only come down so much the quicker. Who's 
 for trying it? Come on, boys!" 
 
 Charley, in virtue of his year's seniority, being 
 regarded as the ringleader in the sports, the other 
 boys followed his lead as he ran towards the ice- 
 house. Jimmie alone followed slowly, dragging his 
 sled after him. Jimmie was no coward : he had 
 often borne, with the patience of a little martyr, 
 severe physical pain which would have made his 
 twin cry like a baby. His sickly childhood had 
 accustomed him to this species of fortitude. But 
 there is a difference between the courage which will 
 bear bravely pain that cannot be helped, and that 
 species of daring which will do a hair-brained thing 
 for the sake of doing it, glorying in the very fool- 
 hardiness of the act. This kind of daring Jimmie 
 lacked: dreamy little people like him, without much 
 physical strength, or toughness of muscle, seldom do 
 have it; and it must be owned that his heart sank 
 within him at the idea of a coast down that roof. 
 
 He did not say so, however, and for several 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 137 
 
 reasons. First, because, though he had quite suf- 
 ficient moral courage to confess the truth about his 
 own personal feelings, he couldn't bear that his twin 
 should feel ashamed of him, as Geoffrey, who had 
 plenty of daring himself, sometimes seemed when 
 other boys twitted Jimmie with his "want of pluck." 
 Another reason was working still more strongly in 
 his little mind, as he brought up the rear of the 
 charge on the ice-house. In Mr. Stanley's last letter 
 there were some lines to Jimmie, over which the 
 little fellow had been pondering a good deal in his 
 sober fashion. Papa wanted him to go more into 
 out-door sports — mix more with boys of his own 
 age. Perhaps he might mean, too, try to get rid of 
 some of this lack of daring, which poor Jimmie 
 regarded as a physical infirmity. 
 
 « I'm sure, if I thought he would wish it, I'd do it 
 in a minute," he thought. 
 
 « Well, who's going to try the coast? " cried Char- 
 ley, turning at the foot of the ice-house. "You, 
 Jeff ? " 
 
 "I'm all ready, for one," said Geoffrey. 
 'And you, Jim?" 
 
 Jimmie hesitated a minute, and gave a little 
 troubled glance at the steep roof. 
 
138 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 " He's afraid, I do believe!" said Charley, a little 
 scornfully. 
 
 "He's no such thing," said Geoffrey, hotly. "You're 
 always trying to stump Jimmie, Charley Osborne ! 
 I can tell you, he dares do as much as you, any day, 
 if he doesn't brag as much." 
 
 But in spite of Geoffrey's valiant refutation of 
 the charge, he gave his twin an anxious glance, 
 while the blood rushed to his cheeks. That glance 
 decided Jimmie. 
 
 "Let him say he's not afraid, then," said Charley. 
 
 "No, I don't think I'm afraid," said Jimmie, with 
 a faint blush. "At any rate, I'm going to try the 
 coast." 
 
 " Good ! " cried Charley. " Come on, then ; " and 
 they rushed in a body up the side of the roof, Geof- 
 frey taking occasion to say to Jimmie, "Don't give 
 in, Jim — don't let the fellows say you're afraid." 
 
 It must be confessed that it was rather precarious 
 footing on the sharp ridge-pole, where the boys had 
 to pause for a minute, to get their sleds in coasting 
 line ; but boys are said to be like cats, and tc be able 
 to cling anywhere. Besides, with most of them, it 
 was an instantaneous thing: no sooner was the ascent 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 139 
 
 effected than the descent was begun. A flash, and 
 the feat was accomplished ! Not so with Jimmie. 
 His cheek grew a little bit pale ; but that last speech 
 of his twin had roused him, and he struggled man- 
 fully with the shrinking which was indeed, with him, 
 a physical thing — a consequence of his weak consti- 
 tution. It was a serious matter to the poor little 
 fullow, and he said softly to himself, as he ran up 
 the ascent, "O, God, don't let me be afraid." 
 
 Ah, Jimmie, as Mr. Stanley would have said if he 
 had been there, no one can regulate such feelings for 
 us but ourselves ! 
 
 Jimmie's head swam as he looked at the steep 
 slant; and as the sled began to dart clown, he invol- 
 untarily closed his eyes. A moment after, there was 
 a cry — not from one boy, but half a dozen. Jim- 
 mie's sled was, as ill luck would have it, on the out- 
 side, and ill steered by his trembling little hands, 
 had gone off the side of the roof. The distance 
 from the ground was considerable. Dreadfully 
 alarmed, the boys ran round the side of the building, 
 Geoffrey at their head. Jimmie was lying on the 
 ground, his broken sled by him. 
 
140 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "My leg!" said he, faintly. " O, take me up 
 gently, please." 
 
 Geoffrey, crying as if his heart would break, flew 
 to the house, calling grandpapa, Colonel Dalton, 
 anybody ; but before they came, poor Jimmie had 
 fainted away. 
 
 "Well, I do hope you boys are satisfied now," 
 said grandpapa, as they laid the little fellow on the 
 bed. "It seems as if you never would rest till you'd 
 broken somebody's bones with your foolhardy tricks. 
 Here's this poor little fellow's leg broken, through 
 your folly. You needn't tell me it was his own 
 doing." 
 
 "It was my fault, grandpapa," said Geoffrey, with 
 a trembling lip. "Charley said Jimmie daredn't do 
 something, and I stumped him to do it." 
 
 "I dare say," growled grandpapa, who was always 
 most ready to scold when most anxious and trou- 
 bled ; but, indeed, everybody was too much taken 
 up with Jimmie for anybody to say much. 
 
 When Jimmie opened his eyes, the first face he 
 saw was Colonel Dalton's. "O," said he, stretch- 
 ing out his little hand to him, "arc yon there? And 
 is it this kind of pain when one is wounded?" 
 
A MEKllY C1IUISTMAS IN SPUE OF A BROKEN LEG. 141 
 
 THE ACCIDENT. 
 
 ec It'is the kind some soldiers have to bear, cer- 
 tainly," said Colonel Dalton, pressing the little hand. 
 
 "Then I'm sure I can bear it, too," said Jimmie, 
 resolutely. "Besides, it was my own fault. I was 
 afraid to coast down that roof, and I ought to have 
 told the boys I was a coward." 
 
 "Coward!" Said Mr. Osborne, indignantly. "I 
 should like to see if Charley and Geoffrey would 
 bear a broken leg as well." 
 
142 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "Then my leg is really broken," said Jimmie, his 
 face paling ; " and Christmas so near ! ' 
 
 w Christmas ! " said grandpapa, testily. " I think 
 there will be very little Christmas for any of us 
 without you, my little man." 
 
 "O, yes, grandpapa, there will," said Jimmie, 
 earnestly. "If everything does not go on just the 
 same, I shall — " 
 
 A twinge of pain made him fall back on the pil- 
 low ; so he finished his sentence with a feeble little 
 smile, and the words, "I shall lie here just the same, 
 I suppose." 
 
 The doctor, for whom Bob had flown in hot haste 
 at the first rumor of the accident, now arriving, the 
 broken leg was set, Jimmie holding Colonel Dalton's 
 hand all the time. 
 
 " There, my little man," said the doctor, when the 
 operation was finished, f? if you will just lie there 
 quietly for five or six weeks, you will be as well a& 
 ever." 
 
 To secure this quiet, everybody was now banished 
 from the room, except Colonel Dalton, for whose 
 presence Jimmie begged so earnestly that it Vas 
 granted. The little fellow seemed to fee! that the 
 
A MERR* CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 143 
 
 sight of Guy, with his wounded arm, would help 
 him bear his own pain more bravely. No sooner 
 was the door closed on the others, than Jimmie 
 looked up, asking, — 
 
 "How long did the doctor say I must lie here ?" 
 
 "Not more than five or six weeks, I hope," said 
 the colonel, cheerfully. 
 
 " Six whole weeks ! " .echoed Jimmie, sorrowfully ; 
 and, to Guy's surprise, he turned away his head, 
 and hiding his face in the pillow, cried quietly. 
 
 "Why, Jimmie," said Colonel Dalton, "do you 
 think that harder to bear than the pain? Keeping 
 still will not be half as hard to you as to some boys, 
 because you are so fond of reading and studying by 
 yourself, you know." 
 
 "Ah, but you see that's just it," said the little 
 boy. "That is just the very thing I was going to 
 try not to do ; and now I can't help doing it." 
 
 " And why were you going to try not to do it ? " 
 asked the colonel. 
 
 "When papa went away," said Jimmie, uncover- 
 ing his face, " he gave us all work to do while he 
 was gone ; and my part was not to bury myself in 
 books, as papa said, but to care for real things and 
 
144 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 people, and see how much I could be to them. He 
 wanted me to be more out doors, too ; and now I 
 can't." 
 
 "No, you can't do that," said Colonel Dalton, 
 touched by Jimmie's distress ; " but I'm sure you can 
 be just as much to other people as if you were 
 running about with the others. Shall I tell you 
 how ?" 
 
 ?f I wish you would," said Jimmie. 
 
 ff Sometimes," said the colonel, " we do a great deal 
 for other people when we only seem to be letting 
 them do for us. For instance, there are some 
 people who feel as if they could never be of any 
 use to any one ; and to find that they can read to 
 or amuse another person, who is sick, is a real 
 pleasure. Again, there are some people who are 
 very impatient, and think they cannot bear the least 
 pain. Now, if they see another person, who bears 
 a great deal of pain patiently and brightly, as I am 
 sure you will, don't you see that it helps them? I 
 know one person whom you can help in both these 
 ways, Jimmie; and that is my little sister, Lillie. 
 Isn't that some comfort?" 
 
 "Perhaps so," said Jiinniic, with a little bit of a 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 145 
 
 smile. " But it's a lazy way of working, after all, 
 just to lie, and wait, and be waited on." 
 
 "Do you know," smiled the colonel, "that a poet 
 once said, — 
 
 ' They also serve who only stand and wait 1 ? " 
 
 And some one calling him just at that moment, 
 Guy departed, leaving-a little ray of sunshine in 
 Jimmie's heart. Bob, who had started up very 
 opportunely when Guy was going out, coming to 
 take his place, Jimmie beckoned him to the bed 
 with a bright little smile. 
 
 "I don't wonder you like Colonel Dalton so 
 much," said he. "I'm going to like him just as 
 much now." 
 
 "Who told you I liked him at all?" said Bob, 
 with an odd little laugh, while he seemed to be very 
 busy with the fringe of Jimmie's counterpane. 
 
 "O, I see some things you don't tell me," said 
 Jimmie. "But, Bob, that wasn't what I was going 
 to say, after all. Do you know, — though I think 
 the other boys would laugh at me if they heard me 
 say so, — there are some things I would sooner say 
 to you than anybody, if I can't have papa." 
 10 
 
14G 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "What sort of things?" asked Bob, coloring with 
 a pleased flush, as if he knew perfectly well big 
 brother's meaning. 
 
 w Why, the sort of things I should say to papa, 
 you know," Jimmie answered; "and I want now to 
 talk about one of these things. You know how I 
 got this" touching his broken leg ; " and it wouldn't 
 have happened if I hadn't been too much frightened 
 to see where I was going. And yet, Bob, just as 
 the sled started I asked God not to let me be 
 afraid. I know it was all right, of course; but 
 why, do you suppose?" 
 
 "Why, Jimmie," said Bob, hesitating a little, 
 though he evidently caught his brother's meaning, 
 "I may be wrong, but I don't believe God helps 
 us in things like that." 
 
 "But it says, f Ask, and it shall be given you,'" 
 said Jimmie, softly. 
 
 "Ah, but don't you remember," said Bob, eagerly, 
 looking up quickly, — "don't you remember what 
 papa said to Geoffrey once, when Jcflf said he never 
 got what he wanted when he prayed, in spite of the 
 Bible's saying that?" 
 
 "Yes," said Jimmie, smiling. " Geoffrey wanted 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 147 
 
 sleds and tops. Of course, God wouldn't give him 
 those. But, Bob, this was & feeling — this was dif- 
 ferent." 
 
 "I'll tell you what I think about it, Jim," said 
 Bob, very much occupied in plaiting up the counter- 
 pane fringe. "We all have thoughts and feelings, 
 you know, just as we all have brains, only we've got 
 to learn to rule them ourselves. Now, I believe God 
 has something to do with everything in this world, 
 of course, because — well, because. But don't you 
 see, Jim, that if he managed all our feelings for us, 
 there would be nothing for us to do ourselves? We 
 should be just like puppets, and there w r ould be no 
 need for us to have any brains, or souls, or any- 
 thing." 
 
 Bob's face had got very red during this speech, 
 and Jimmie was watching him with a quiet little 
 smile. 
 
 "Yes, I see," said he, thoughtfully. "Bob, you're 
 a queer fellow. I don't think any of the other fel- 
 lows would believe you would say a thing like that." 
 
 "Very likely not," said Bob. dryly; " and I'm sure 
 I wouldn't to them." 
 
 Preparations for Christ inas went on just the same 
 
148 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 in spite of grandpapa's protestations to the contrary, 
 Jiminie begged so earnestly that it might be so, that 
 there was no refusing him ; and whenever one or 
 the other of the household entered his room, the 
 little head would be turned on the pillow to ask 
 eagerly if they were doing this, that, or the other 
 for Christmas. Whether Colonel Dalton told Lillie 
 about the little talk he had had with Jimmie, I do 
 not know. At all events, Lillie w r as one of Jimmie's 
 most successful entertainers, and never seemed pret- 
 tier or more sweet than when in the sick room. 
 Indeed, Lillie had much improved since that evening 
 when she had talked with Guy, and her brother was 
 not the only one who noticed it. Her pleasant, 
 pretty ways with Jimmie were secretly winning her 
 golden opinions from Bob, who, as his wont was, 
 observed and said nothing. On Lillie's side, the 
 love, however awkwardly expressed, of the "rough 
 boy " for her soldier brother had done wonders in 
 softening her first prejudices against him. She felt, 
 even, as if she could overlook his blunt words to 
 herself. 
 
 Bob was standing on a high step-ladder in the 
 back parlor, busily fastening up the evergreen deco- 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 149 
 
 rations and holly wreaths which the children had 
 scoured the woods to find, while on the lowest step 
 sat Lillie, making more wreaths in readiness for him* 
 
 "How beautifully it will look!" said she, casting 
 an admiring glance at Bob's handiwork. 
 
 "Yes," said he; "but it will be no Christmas at 
 all without Jim." 
 
 « Why couldn't we- have the Christmas tree up in 
 his room ! " Lillie asked. 
 
 Bob shook his head. "Too much noise. You 
 know the servants and people on the place always 
 come to see grandpapas Christmas trees, and it 
 would make no end of a racket in his room. But 
 Jimmie wouldn't hear of such a thing as their losing 
 their fun." 
 
 "But it is so stupid for him to have his things 
 just handed to him!" said Lillie. "Bob, why 
 wouldn't it do to have a little tree on purpose for 
 him?" 
 
 "It might be a good plan," said Bob, turning 
 round on the top step. "But how could we manage 
 it, with the other on our hands? " 
 
 "Why, I thought," said Lillie — "that is, I have 
 a little idea in my head." And here followed the 
 
150 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 idea, which, however, I will not tell now, for fear 
 it should spoil the story. Something very pleasant 
 it must have been, for Bob sat down on the top step, 
 exclaiming, « Lillie, you're a trump ! I think I shall 
 have to propose you as a member of the f J. G. TV" 
 
 "Will you, really?" cried Lillie, with a radiant 
 face. " O, if you will ! and they will let me in ! " 
 
 "I'll take care of that," said Bob; "and, Lillie, I 
 think I shall change your plan enough to introduce 
 the part of good fairy for you. I'm sure you de- 
 serve it." 
 
 "O, you may improve as much as you please," 
 she returned, laughing gleefully; and thereupon 
 the preparations for the festivities were redoubled. 
 Great mystery prevailed, only the "J. G. T." being 
 taken into counsel. Bob, Lillie, or, indeed, any 
 member of the club, was continually to be met 
 coming out of a room which adjoined Jimmie's, and 
 which had hitherto been unoccupied. Yet such was 
 the silence of the proceedings in this room, that 
 no sound reached the ears of the little invalid. Ar- 
 thur was very often seen scribbling, or biting his 
 pencil, over a bit of paper, while Fanny, Lillie, or 
 even Sue, was occasionally surprised with mysteri- 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. l. r >l 
 
 ous bits of needlework; but both grandpapa and 
 •nuudmamma were too much used to « secrets " in 
 that famous club to ask embarrassing questions. 
 
 Christmas came at last — as bright a day as heart 
 could desire. The morning was spent chiefly in 
 entertaining Jimmie, for whom the uninitiated elders 
 feared a stupid Christmas, though the little fellow's 
 face on the white pillow was as merry and bright as 
 possible. 
 
 As the day advanced, and the back parlor received 
 very frequent visits, Charley and Geoffrey were con- 
 tinually flying backward and forward between that 
 apartment and Jimmie's room, to report progress. 
 Not that they were admitted — no, indeed ! Cousin 
 Jack, who, with the rest of his family, had arrived 
 for the Christmas dinner, knew better than that ; but 
 the little boys affirmed, that, by listening at the 
 door, they could tell pretty nearly, by the hammer- 
 in"-, or the chance remarks of one and another of the 
 « J. G. T.," how matters stood within. 
 
 At last the folding doors were opened, and Jimmie 
 heard cousin Sue playing her gayest waltzes on the 
 piano, as she always did at such times. He sent 
 down the occupants of his room forthwith, calling 
 
152 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 after them, in his brightest little tone. ff JS T ow laugh 
 and joke just as much as you always do. I shall 
 listen for everybody's voice." And there the little 
 fellow lay, with a bright, happy smile, laughing 
 and chipping his hands whenever he heard the 
 sounds below. 
 
 Grandpapa's Christmas trees were the most suc- 
 cessful of occasions. Everybody came, from aunts 
 and cousins clown to the lowest servant on the place, 
 and everybody had presents. Of course, I can't stop 
 to enumerate everybody's presents; but I have no 
 doubt that everybody was satisfied. Bob's face, in 
 particular, perfectly shone as he opened a beautiful 
 case of mathematical instruments, which he had long 
 been wishing for, and which his grandfather had 
 chosen as his present. 
 
 Cousin Jack was, as usual, the chief merrymaker 
 of the occasion; and so successful were his efforts at 
 entertainment, that few people noticed a very pro- 
 tracted absence of Fanny, Arthur, Bob, and Lillie, 
 after the distribution of the presents. The fact was, 
 they were in that mysterious up-stairs room; and 
 certainly Sue and cousin Jack — the ?f X. J. G. TVs," 
 Jis Bob called them — must have been taken into 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 153 
 
 confidence, or their absence never could have been 
 covered so well. Colonel Ddton did, indeed, look 
 about several times for his little sister; but as he 
 was one of those few discreet people who know when 
 to keep their own counsel, he called nobody's atten- 
 tion to the fact that she was not in the room. Pos- 
 sibly cousin Sue had given him a hint. 
 
 "And now," said grandmamma, when, at last, 
 everybody had admired and exclaimed enough, and 
 the servants had gone down stairs with their treas- 
 ures, " now for Jimmie's presents ! Dear little fel- 
 low ! only to think of his lying there alone all this 
 time, so bright and happy ! " For Jimmie's sweet 
 little laugh had been heard, once and again, by 
 listeners on the stairs. 
 
 Grandmamma advanced to the tree, to take off 
 Jimmie's numerous presents ; but to her astonish- 
 ment not one of them was to be seen. 
 
 "Why, how is this?" exclaimed she, turning 
 round. "Jack, did you forget to hang them on 
 the tree?" 
 
 "Mt*dam," said cousin Jack, in the demurest tone, 
 w if you will accept my arm, and allow me to lead 
 you up stairs, perhaps we may find some of the 
 missing valuables.' 
 
154 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 He talked off grandmamma, still in a state of 
 amazement; and the rest of the party following the 
 lead, everybody was speedily up stairs. 
 
 "Here you all are!" said Jimmie, gayly. "Has 
 everybody had a nice time, and got everything 
 they wanted? I've enjoyed it ever so much, grand- 
 mamma." 
 
 But before grandmamma could reply, the door 
 between the rooms, just opposite Jimmie's bed, was 
 suddenly thrown open from within ; and such an un- 
 expected sight met everybody's eyes, that they all 
 seemed struck dumb with astonishment. The room 
 was all festooned and garlanded like the parlor down 
 stairs, while on what looked like a little mound of 
 evergreens, in the middle of the room, stood a tiny 
 Christmas tree, lighted, like the large one down 
 stairs, w 7 ith colored tapers — nothing else upon it. 
 The whole room, brightly lighted, wreathed so 
 prettily with greens and holly, and starting up so 
 suddenly, seemed so much like a scene from Fairy- 
 land, that everybody exclaimed — Jimmie first of all. 
 But before any -questions could be asked, a voice 
 belonging to some invisible speaker, which sounded, 
 as Geoffrey proclaimed in a loud whisper, like 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 155 
 
 "Arthur behind the door," began to recite theso 
 lines : — 
 
 We often hear from folks who think they know, 
 
 That fairies left this earth long, long ago, 
 
 Or, even would we but submit to their wise diction, 
 
 They never lived at all, except in fiction. 
 
 I need not tell you, if you ever meet 
 
 These people, over-wise in self-conceit, 
 
 Who prize so much the sharpness of their sight, 
 
 That they are prone to stand in their own light. 
 
 " Fairies," they say, " on earth are never seen"? 
 
 Not so, although, indeed, they're few and far between. 
 
 The reason, this : they come to those alone 
 
 Who care for others — not for Number 1. 
 
 Some souls there are of whom this may be said — 
 
 Some souls — though few enough, I am afraid, 
 
 And of these few the kindly little elves 
 
 Delight to take the care they don't take of themselves. 
 
 One Christmas — O, but here I make a pause, 
 
 To tell you fairies are great friends of Santa Claus — 
 
 A little boy — (his name to tell I'm fain) — 
 
 Was lying patient on a bed of pain. 
 
 " What shall we do this year? " his family said. 
 
 " We can't be merry with you here in bed." 
 
 He answered, smiling, " Have your Christmas tree. 
 
 The others mustn't lose their fun for me." 
 
 So said he, dreaming not, that ere the words were done, 
 
 A fairy lightly whispered, " You shan't lose your fun." 
 
 But here I ask my kindly hearers' grace 
 
 To stand aside* and give the fairy speaker place. 
 
 As Arthur's voice ceased speaking, the fairy, in 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 whom the audience recognized Lillie, came dancing 
 lightly on the stage, with white dress, silver slippers, 
 crown and wand, and the most wonderful gauzy 
 white wings. She was greeted with rapturous ap- 
 plause ; but, without stopping for that, she whirled 
 about on one foot, and immediately took up the 
 story where Arthur had dropped it : — 
 
 Through forest glade, through sylvan shade, 
 This morning bright, in airy flight, 
 
 I sought this Christmas tree so fair. 
 Where'er I find a generous mind, 
 Taking no thought for its own sport, 
 
 Its pleasure straight becomes my care. 
 
 This little tree you all may see. 
 
 I'd have you know such do not grow 
 
 Without the realms of fairy wood. 
 To make it bear is now my care. 
 So fair a tree, 'twould pity be 
 
 The fruit should prove less good. 
 
 To gain this end, I need a friend 
 Who, at my call, will come with all 
 I can require. Ho, Santa Claus ! 
 
 Here Lillie ran to the fireplace, and called the 
 name up the chimney. To the intense delight of 
 Jimmie and Geoffrey, a stilled voice was heard in 
 reply : — 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 157 
 
 " I'm here, good fay — you needn't call me twice. 
 My sack is heavy ; but I'm coming in a trice." 
 
 And coming apparently down the chimney ap- 
 peared Bob, voluminously stuffed out with pillows, 
 attired in a garb of furs, an improvised beard that 
 nearly covered his face, his nose painted red, and on 
 his back a sack crammed with presents. He was 
 greeted with a shout from the children. 
 
 " Good," said the fairy. " What have you got? " 
 "You'd better say," said Santa Claus, "what have I not? 
 Books, pictures, toys, — 
 Everything that pleases boys ; 
 Fur gloves — I think I put in mates — 
 And here — yes — here's a pair of skates." 
 
 And so on, through a long list of presents which 
 he unpacked from his voluminous sack, mumbling to 
 himself between his teeth, while the fairy looked on, 
 trying hard not to laugh. 
 
 "Good," said she, at last, when the presents were 
 unpacked. 
 
 "Now, then, help me 
 To hang them just as they should be. 
 Trees by their fruits are known : 
 I think I've fairly shown 
 The nature of this Christmas tree." 
 
 And here Arthur's voice was heard again behind 
 the door, repeating, — 
 
158 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "For generous souls these kindly little elves 
 Delight to take the care they don't take for themselves." 
 
 And Santa Claus, with a nod, and kindly, — 
 
 " A hasty performance, but good in its way. 
 Hope you'll find nothing broken — I bid you good day," — 
 
 disappeared up the chimney. 
 
 The fairy again pirouetted on one toe, and then, aa 
 all the children rapturously exclaimed, rushed sud- 
 denly off the stage, and up to Jimmie's bed. 
 
 "How do you like it?" cried the ex-fairy. Jim- 
 mie had been nearly speechless all this time. 
 
 "Like it?" exclaimed he. "Did you really get it 
 up on purpose for me ? " 
 
 "Yes, just on purpose for you," cried Lillie; en- 
 chanted. " O, it was such fun ! Bob put in the 
 fairy part, and fixed the room, and Arthur wrote the 
 story, and — " 
 
 "And the whole thing was Lillie's idea," said Bob, 
 coming forth from the chimney very sooty, and still 
 in his Santa Claus dress. 
 
 "O, I am so much obliged to you all," said Jim- 
 mie, looking round with a smile of ineffable content- 
 ment, "for the tree, and the room, and the idea, and 
 your pretty poetry, Arthur!" 
 
A MERRY CHRISTMAS IN SPITE OF A BROKEN LEG. 159 
 
 "O, it was only a scribble," said Arthur, fooling a 
 little as if his poem hadn't met with sufficient «t 
 tention. 
 
 " Now, you won't say I haven't had a merry Christ- 
 mas, grandpapa," said .firmm* 
 
 "Perhaps not," grandpapa replied. "But by the 
 way, my little fellow, don't you mean to make a closer 
 acquaintance with your Christmas presents, or do you 
 mean to leave them all night on the tree, where Mrs. 
 Fairy hung them ? " 
 
 "Why, I do believe," said Jimmie, in consterna- 
 tion, "that I had forgotten all about them." 
 
 Nobody felt slighted, however, despite this frank 
 avowal. 
 
100 
 
 BATTLES A J UOAl.fi* 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 bob's balloon story. 
 
 jTHAT do I want you to do forme?" re- 
 
 his room, one afternoon, with this question. The 
 holidays were over now; the little band of merry- 
 makers had resolved itself into its every-day number 
 of five, and the "J. G. T." seemed to have converted 
 itself into a society for promoting Jimmie's happi- 
 ness and amusement. 
 
 " What do I want you to do for me ? " repeated 
 Jimmie. "O, I know. If you're all there, I should 
 like Bob to tell one of his stories." 
 
 "Bob!" echoed Lillie, who sat in the window 
 embroidering a slipper for Guy — a profound secret. 
 "Does Bob tell stories? I thought it was only you 
 who did that, Jimmie." 
 
 "O, I only tell other people's stories," said Jim- 
 mie, modestly. M I mean, I tell the stories I've 
 
 peated Jimmie, as Bob put his head into 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 161 
 
 read. But Bob makes up, just like people who 
 write books." 
 
 "He tells you things that have happened to him- 
 self," struck in Geoffrey, who, lying on the bed, was 
 playing checkers with Jirnmie. " All sorts of adven- 
 tures, you know; and sometimes you can't tell 
 whether he's in fun or in earnest. Mamma says 
 that, when he and Arthur were little boys, Bob used 
 to tell stories out loud every night, to put Arthur 
 and himself to sleep. 5 ' 
 
 "But Arthur used to help," said Bob, laughing. 
 "I never could put in the romantic parts myself; so 
 I left them to him." 
 
 "I wish you'd tell one of that kind now," said 
 Lillie; "something that really happened to you, I 
 mean." 
 
 "Shall it be embellished, or not, Jirnmie, as 
 Beechnut would say?" asked Bob, with a roguish 
 glance at Jirnmie. 
 
 " Embellished, I guess," said Jirnmie, with a sly 
 little smile back at Bob. 
 
 Geoffrey was too much interested in the checkers, 
 and Lillie too busy counting stitches, to notice this 
 Utile aside. 
 
 11 
 
162 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "Well, then," said Bob, perching himself on the 
 footboard, "you shall hear a veritable adventure — 
 something that happened to me no later than last 
 Fourth of July. O, wait a minute!" as Arthur 
 entered the room, pencils and drawing-board in 
 hand; "here comes our ? special artist;' suppose, 
 while I relate, he illustrates for me." 
 
 " Very w r ell ; so I will," said Arthur, with a laugh, 
 seating himself in the window. 
 
 "How long people always are in getting to the 
 beginning of a story ! " said Geoffrey, apostrophizing 
 his checkers. 
 
 "Last Fourth of July, then," said Bob, beginning 
 very briskly, " I went on the Common in the after- 
 noon to see what was going on — " 
 
 " We were all down at Rockedge last Fourth," 
 interrupted Geoffrey. 
 
 " It is very uncivil to interrupt a person in that 
 w r ay, Geoffrey," said Arthur, looking up from his 
 drawing. 
 
 "Yes, you were all clown at Rockedge," went on 
 Bob, with perfect good humor; "but I had come up 
 to uncle John's for the da} r , and thought that perhaps 
 I might stay in lor the fireworks in the evening. 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 163 
 
 So, as I have said, I went on the Common, after 
 dinner, to see what was goin^ on. It w r as a blazing 
 hot afternoon ; everything was very dusty and noisy, 
 and there were piles of people, lots of babies, and 
 any quantity of peanuts and lemonade. I had got 
 rather tired of pushing about through the crowd, 
 and was thinking of going back to w T ait for some- 
 thing more lively, when, looking down on the parade- 
 ground, I saw a great balloon, painted like the stars 
 and stripes, and on it a name w T hich I couldn't quite 
 make out. 
 
 "'Is that balloon going off soon, do you know? 
 said I to a man at my elbow. 
 
 " 'Yes, very soon,' said he, seeming to know all 
 about it. 'That's the great balloon E Pluribus 
 Unum, and Mr. Leigh, the great balloon man, is 
 going up in it himself directly.' And upon that I 
 made for the parade-ground. 
 
 " By means of a little elbowing I got into the front 
 line of the crowd, and there was the E Pluribus Unum, 
 puffed out with gas, all ready for a start, and the 
 great balloon man in person talking to the people. 
 
 "'The motion's easy,' said he, ' and I sometime 9 
 find it very cooling to get into the upper currents 
 
164 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 of air on these sultry days. Who's for a flight this 
 fine afternoon ? ' 
 
 "The great balloon man had a very insinuating 
 smile, but no one seemed inclined to jump at his 
 offer. Suddenly he turned to me. 
 
 "'Now, here,' said he, f is a young man just about 
 the size and weight I want. What do you say, my 
 young friend? will you make a little voyage with 
 me?' 
 
 " f I am quite willing, sir,' said I, for I was rather 
 taken with the idea of going up in a balloon just 
 for once. 
 
 "'That's right!' cried the great balloon man, evi- 
 dently surprised. 'Jump in, then, my fine fellow, 
 and we'll be off in a minute ! ' 
 
 " So we got into the car, which, by the way, I 
 was surprised to find so big, and presently, amid a 
 great shouting and waving of handkerchiefs, up we 
 went. Mr. Leigh and I scattered handbills clown on 
 the people below all the time ; and you have no 
 idea how quickly they began to look like pygmies 
 scrambling for snow-flakes. I rather liked the bal- 
 loon motion, too; I had always fancied it must be 
 like a bird flying, and now I was sure I knew just 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 105 
 
 how an eagle felt. Up, up, up, Ave went, and I 
 was delighted to discover that the clouds were as 
 blue, close to, as they looked on the earth. I kept 
 my eyes wide open, for I thought presently we 
 might run plump into the moon, and I wanted to 
 see if the dark spots one sees through the telescope 
 were really mountains or not. My eyes ached at 
 last with staring about Jn the clouds so much; sol 
 looked at Mr. Leigh instead, and found that he was 
 looking at me and smiling. 
 
 * f My young friend,' said he, in a winning man- 
 ner, f I hope you have no pressing engagements 
 this afternoon — have you?' 
 
 " f I don't think of any,' said I; * so long as I get 
 back for the fireworks this evening I am willing to 
 stay up here as long as you want.' 
 
 "'Fireworks? O, yes,' said the balloon man, 
 hesitating; f the fact is, my dear young friend, that 
 f had not thought of returning to Boston this even- 
 ing. I — ah — I proposed to extend my journey 
 somewhat over to-night ; but if you are very par- 
 ticular — ' 
 
 "By that time I had bethought myself that, as you 
 all expected me to stay in at uncle John's for the 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 fireworks, and as uncle John, on the other hand, did 
 not know but I might go down to Rockedge before 
 evening, and as, after all, this was better fun than 
 the fireworks, there might be no harm in my stay- 
 ing out, and so I told Mr. Leigh, asking wheie lie 
 meant to go. 
 
 " f Where?' said my friend, with a smile; f O ~- 
 ah — that will depend, perhaps, a little on circum- 
 stances. 9 
 
 " By this time we had quite lost sight of the old 
 State House dome ; and as I began presently to 
 stare down instead of up, I saw, far, far below me, 
 a battle-field, and our soldiers fighting." 
 
 "Which was beating?" exclaimed Geoffrey, ex- 
 cited. 
 
 "O, I couldn't tell that; they were so small that 
 they looked like the little tin soldiers Lillie plays 
 with at home. Still I was very much interested, 
 and I begged Mr. Leigh to stop, that I might watch 
 them. But he explained, with a great deal of 
 learned talk about gases, and winds, and so forth, 
 which I won't bore you with here, that he couldn't 
 do it without great personal- inconvenience: so on 
 we went. Presently I noticed that it was growing 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 1G7 
 
 rather dark, though at first the sunbeams had been 
 so bright that my companion gave me a green shade, 
 and put one on himself, so that we looked as if 
 we came straight from the institution at South 
 Boston. I thought the great balloon man noticed 
 this darkness, too, for he shot straight up a great 
 way, as if to get out of some cloud. But still the 
 darkness continued; and presently, after we had 
 gone up a good way, he turned to me, and said, — 
 
 w? My young friend, I apprehend a thunder-storm, 
 and as the E Pluribus Uimm is freshly painted, and 
 the red, white, and blue stripes run into each other 
 very easily, I propose, if agreeable to you, that we 
 should obtain temporary shelter by diving directly 
 beneath the terrestrial ball.' 
 
 w He pointed down as he spoke, and, to my amaze- 
 ment, from the height we then were, we could see 
 that the earth was really a great round ball, and was 
 going round the sun as neatly as possible. 
 
 ?e 'And so alight in China ! ' said I, catching at the 
 idea. 
 
 "'Precisely,' said the great balloon man; \'m 
 China, since you propose it. For, though I hadn't 
 thought of it before, tea at the court of the Celestial 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Empire would be preferable to the somewhat dry 
 fare we have with us.' I forgot to say that we had 
 a basket of provisions in the car. 
 
 " Accordingly Mr. Leigh did something or other 
 to the balloon, and we began to shoot downwards 
 like a stone dropped into a well. We went so fast 
 that I was almost frightened, though I didn't tell 
 the great balloon man so. Presently, however, I 
 was more frightened still, for the balloon suddenly 
 turned entirely over, — a complete somersault, — 
 and I closed my eyes, thinking my last hour had 
 come. Nothing happened, however, except that I 
 felt as if my head was where my heels ought to be ; 
 and pretty soon we seemed to have come to a dead 
 halt. So I ventured to open my eyes to take a peep, 
 and to my intense astonishment there we all were, 
 — Mr. Leigh, the balloon, and I, — all right side up, 
 and anchored on the queerest kind of building I had 
 ever seen. It was shaped like a summer-house, and 
 covered all over thick with little bells. But I didn't 
 have time to look about me much, for Mr. Leigh, 
 who was regarding me with the broadest of smiles, 
 exclaimed directly, — 
 
 "'Well, here avc are, my dear young friend, in 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 169 
 
 China, as you wished, and on the top of a Chinese 
 pagoda ! In what precise part of the Celestial 
 Empire we have alighted I do not yet know, but, 
 from its looks, I should say a place of considerable 
 importance.' 
 
 w Thereupon I looked about me, and the very first 
 thing I saw was a troop of monstrous long-legged 
 hens. A brilliant idea struck me. 
 
 " ? Shanghae ! ' cried I ; f may not this be Shanghae ? ' 
 
 frf Ihave no doubt you are right/ said he; 'but 
 the question is now, to extricate ourselves from this 
 perplexing situation. We might easily jump from 
 the roof of the pagoda ourselves, but I cannot desert 
 the E Pluribus Unum in this extremity, nor am I 
 willing to run the risk of getting carried away from 
 this interesting place by again ascending.' 
 
 " ? 0, wait a minute before you begin to talk of 
 getting down,' said I ; and, jumping out of the car, I 
 pulled my knife out of my pocket, and began to cut 
 off the bells from the roof as fast as possible. You 
 see I remembered that Fanny talked of having a 
 German in the fall, and this was a capital chance for 
 getting sleigh bells. But I hadn't pocketed more 
 than half a dozen, when out of the pagoda came a 
 
170 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Chinese mandarin, dressed in red, and with the 
 longest braided tail hanging down his back that I 
 had ever seen. I wish you could have seen him 
 when he caught sight of the balloon, Mr. Leigh, and 
 myself. I suppose he had been asleep in the sum- 
 mer-house, and my walking about on the roof had 
 waked him. His little eyes opened so wide that 
 they really became quite sizable, and he uttered a 
 stream of ejaculations, in which I could only recog- 
 nize a great many g's. Seeing, I suppose, that we 
 didn't understand his language, he had recourse to 
 signs, and expressed his desire that we should come 
 down, balloon and all. Mr. Leigh expressing, in the 
 same language, his fear lest the balloon should carry 
 us up into the air again, the mandarin appeared for 
 a moment nonplussed. Presently, however, an idea 
 seemed to strike him ; and, coming close to the side of 
 the pagoda, what did he do but hold up his long pig- 
 tail, making signs that he would tow us ! I laughed, 
 jumped into the car again, and in this style we went 
 through the streets of Shanghae, holding on to the 
 mandarin's pigtail. Fortunately the gas was almost 
 out of the balloon, and the Chinaman was very fat 
 and heavy, or the E Pluribus Unum might have 
 hauled him up. 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 171 
 
 SHANGHAE. 
 
 w China is a very odd place ; but if you want to 
 know how it looks, you have only to look at grand- 
 mamma's little tea-poy tables. There it all was in 
 flesh and blood — people sitting out under the trees, 
 drinking tea out of Canton china; women hobbling 
 about on their little shoes ; queer boats sailing about 
 on ponds, and everywhere the great, long-legged, 
 Shanghae roosters. I forgot to say that we found it 
 
172 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 high noon in China, whereas it had been late in the 
 afternoon before we made that dive under the 
 globe. 
 
 " We were, apparently, en route for the chief 
 mandarin's palace, or, at all events, we arrived there 
 in clue time, and, leaving the E Pluribus outside, 
 tied to a tree, in we went. The chief mandarin 
 looked just like our obliging friend, except that he 
 was yellower, his eyes were smaller, and he had 
 even a longer braid. He received us with great 
 politeness and ceremony, and, wishing to make some 
 return to his civilities, I thought I would try a 
 little Chinese, as I had heard the words all sounded 
 much alike. 
 
 Chang eng jing jolly gong?' said I to the chief 
 mandarin, stringing together all the Chinese sound- 
 ing words I could think of. But his highness only 
 stared at me, and presently sent out his servant for a 
 man, who proved to be an interpreter. So after that 
 w T e got on quite nicely, and we had to tell the whole 
 story of our adventures, everybody in the palace 
 going out to stare at the balloon. Then we were 
 entertained with cups of delicious tea, — I im- 
 mediately thought that I would try to carry back a 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 173 
 
 chest for mamma, — and his highness, if they call 
 the chief mandarin so, asked us to dine with him. 
 
 " * What a lot of things there are in China, to be 
 sure ! ' said I to myself, beginning to think of im- 
 proving my opportunities ; and, hinting to the in- 
 terpreter, he presently brought in a large roll of rice 
 paper, which I had wanted for Arthur, and some 
 pretty Japanese fans and work-boxes, which I meant 
 to carry home for mamma and little Lillie. 
 
 " f Halloa ! ' cried I, suddenly, to the great balloon 
 man ; c China is the place where they make fire- 
 crackers—isn't it? and to-day is Fourth of July: 
 how very lucky!' and, turning to the interpreter, 
 I remarked, f Fire-crackers ! ' The interpreter, who 
 didn't know much English, after ail, looked puzzled. 
 So I had to resort to signs again ; and, turning to 
 the interpreter, I pretended to light one of my 
 fingers, as if with a match. 
 
 w 'Spt — fzzz!' said I. 
 
 "To my delight, the sagacious interpreter under- 
 stood, and nodded his head a great many times, 
 smiling. The servant presently brought in a great 
 pile of fire-crackers ; but, O my ! Jeff, twice as big as 
 we get them here ! Upon that we all went out again, 
 
174 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 and had a grand time firing them ; and I bethought 
 myself that in the evening Ave could have some 
 Chinese fireworks. 
 
 "And now we were summoned in to dinner, and, 
 to my surprise, found that the room was darkened, 
 though it was early in the afternoon, and illuminated 
 with Chinese lanterns. The women in the palace all 
 came toddling in, some of them so very lame that I 
 should have been tempted to offer my arm to one, if 
 I had been sure that the chief mandarin wouldn't 
 have been angry. 
 
 "The table all looked quite familiar, I suppose 
 because the china was like grandmamma's blue 
 dinner-set ; but such queer-looking things to eat ! 
 
 " f My dear Mr. Leigh,' said I, confidentially, f what 
 would you advise me to eat? I recognize but one 
 familiar dish on the bill of fare, but I have an un- 
 conquerable aversion to boiled rice.' 
 
 " ? I should advise you, then, to partake of bird's 
 nest soup,' said the great balloon man, gravely. ? I 
 have heard that it is very satisfying; so perhaps 
 you will not require anything more.' So I followed 
 his advice. 
 
 "But now appeared a fresh difficulty. The Chinese, 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 175 
 
 you know, eat with chop-sticks; and, with a little 
 practice, I thought I could manage them when the 
 meat came in. But it is impossible to eat soup with 
 chop-sticks, and in Shangbae it seemed to be the 
 fashion to drink it. Mr. Leigh and I tried to follow 
 the example of our hosts ; but, to our horror, the 
 soup was so sticky that I came very near going 
 through life glued to a blue china soup-plate, like the 
 old woman to the fairy tale, with a black pudding on 
 the end of her nose. I was only too thankful to 
 become separated from it after my first taste, and did 
 not try the soup again. Presently some meat was 
 brought in, and being hungry, — for the soup had 
 not proved satisfying in the sense I had expected, — 
 I thought I would have some. It was cut up in 
 little pieces, and I found it quite nice. 
 
 "'Kabbit?' said I to the interpreter, who sat be- 
 side me. 
 
 "He shook his head, and said something that 
 sounded like f Poopee.\ Not understanding, I looked 
 puzzled, when just then a little dog came running 
 into the room — a little white, curly poodle. 
 
 we Ah!' cried the interpreter, pointing to it, and 
 pulling my sleeve. f Ah ! There! Poopec!' 
 
176 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "I dropped my chop-sticks — " 
 All through Bob's recital he had been interrupted 
 from time to time by bursts of laughter from his 
 auditors; but at this moment there was such a peal 
 that he stopped and looked up. Arthur, who bad 
 kept pace with his illustrations, had just held up a 
 picture of Bob and the balloon man glued to their 
 soup-plates, which, with Bob's situation in the story, 
 was too irresistibly ludicrous. 
 
 "Bob Stanley," cried Lillie, as soon as she could 
 speak, "what a perfect rigmarole you have been 
 telling us ! I thought I asked you for a true story — 
 something that really happened to you." 
 
 "Well," said Bob, with an injured air, " why don't 
 you let me finish my story then, and tell you how 
 Mr. Leigh and I got back to Boston ? " 
 
 "Because, of course I don't believe a word of 
 what you've been saying. Do you call this a true 
 story ? " 
 
 "A true story, embellished, after Beechnut's 
 fashion," said Bob. 
 
 "Beechnut — who's he?" said Lillie, puzzled. 
 
 " O, Lillie," cried Jimmie, enchanted, " didn't you 
 ever read (he Franconia Stories? O, how 1 should 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 177 
 
 like to read them with you — Malleville, and Beech- 
 nut, and Ellen Linn, and all ! " 
 
 "But how much of the story is true?" persisted 
 Lillie. 
 
 " Well," said Bob, coolly, "it's true that I went in 
 to uncle John's last Fourth, and went on the Com- 
 mon, and saw a balloon called the E Pluribus Unum 
 just going up, and Mr. Leigh himself inside of it." 
 
 "And he didn't even ask you to get in?" said 
 Lillie, confounded. "Why, you told all that part 
 so naturally, that I thought of course it was true." 
 
 "Ah, that's just the fun of it," said Geoffrey, 
 triumphantly. " I told you that Bob told things so 
 that you wouldn't know whether he was in fun 
 or in earnest. He can make up just as fast as 
 he can speak." 
 
 Arthur's illustrations were now exhibited, and the 
 laughter Bob's story had excited was renewed over 
 these. Bob going up in the E Pluribus Unum, the 
 balloon turning a somersault round the globe, the 
 balloon on top of the pagoda, with the mandarin 
 offering his pigtail, all were there. Arthur had 
 considerable artistic talent; and so merry were the 
 12 
 
178 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 young folks over his sketches, that the tea-bell had 
 been rung several times before they heard it. 
 
 "Guidie," said Lillie, that night, when she was 
 having her usual little good-night chat with her 
 brother on the hall stairs, "I think Bob Stanley must 
 have a 'great many sides ' to him, as I heard you say 
 of somebody the other day." 
 
 "Most people have," Guy replied; "but why do 
 you call Bob many-sided, Lillie?" 
 
 "He is so different at different times," said Lillie. 
 "Sometimes he is so blunt, and almost rough, that I 
 don't like him a bit; though, after all, he is always 
 honest, and that I like. When I first came here, he 
 used to be so silent and glum, that I thought he 
 couldn't talk at all; but now he is so merry and 
 funny sometimes ! And this afternoon he has been 
 telling the drollest story I ever heard, making it all 
 up as he went along. Then Jimmie told me once 
 that he sometimes liked to talk to Bob just as he 
 does to his father; Bob always understands him 
 better than any one else, and sometimes says things 
 that sound old and grave enough for Mr. Standley 
 himself. And I am sure that is another different 
 side." 
 
bob's balloon story. 
 
 179 
 
 "Bob has a great deal of character, I should 
 think," said Colonel Dalton. "If I am not mistaken 
 in him, he will turn out a very fine man some of 
 these days." 
 
 "O, I wish he could hear you say that," cried 
 Lillie, gleefully. "He — " 
 
 It was on her lips to tell Guy of Bob's admiration 
 for himself ; but a sol't of intuitive idea that Bob 
 would not like this, stopped her. So she only kissed 
 her brother, and ran off to bed, mentally resolving to 
 treasure up what Guy had said of Bob, as a pleasant 
 thing to be repeated to him some day. 
 
180 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Arthur's friend, steve lenox. 
 
 IT occurs to me that in telling this story of my 
 four boys, I have hitherto said very little of 
 Arthur; and id that respect I am certainly not tell- 
 ing my story as I ought, for it is not in his own 
 opinion only that Arthur is a very important person- 
 age. As I said in my first chapter, his younger 
 brothers all regarded Arthur's manner of doing 
 things as the right way, and even Bob, superior to 
 his elder brother as he might be in some ways, had 
 perfect confidence in Arthur's tact. All this is very 
 well. Self-possession and the power of doing our- 
 selves justice in the eyes of others are very good 
 traits to have. But having these, Arthur yet lacked 
 one very important thing, and that was, as his father 
 had said, moral courage. It was this want in his 
 character which made him, with all his self-confi- 
 dence, an easy person to lead; a little ridicule, 
 Bkilf ully used, could turn him to anything, for he 
 
Arthur's friend, steve lenox. 
 
 181 
 
 had not quite Bob's firmness of principle. Another 
 thing: Arthur was not wholly free from worldli- 
 ness; and, if a person possessed riches, name, or 
 position, he was apt to acquire undue weight in his 
 eyes. I say again, as I said before, that he had a 
 great many good qualities ; but these were his 
 faults ; and his father regarded them as such dan- 
 gerous ones, that, in going away, I think he had 
 more fears for Arthur than for any of his little band 
 of warriors, as he had called them. 
 
 At Arthur's school there was a boy named Steve 
 Lenox — several years older than Arthur, and who, 
 from his age, as well as for some other reasons I 
 am going to tell you, was regarded as a leader 
 among the boys. He was a handsome, high-spirited 
 fellow, and rather a favorite in school, though I am 
 afraid it was more because he was, in a manner, his 
 own master, had plenty of money to spend, and 
 lived in a splendid house on the Milklam, than 
 because he was remarkable either for principles or 
 scholarship. He had taken quite a fancy to Arthur, 
 as indeed people were apt to do ; and Arthur waa 
 so much flattered by his notice, that he rared mora 
 for his society than for any other. 
 
182 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Now, Air. Stanley had dreaded the influence of 
 this Steve Lenox over his son, and, as you may 
 remember, had turned the conversation very quick- 
 ly, when Arthur suggested the possibility of Steve 
 Lenox asking him to visit him. Mr. Stanley was 
 not a prejudiced person, but he had seen enough of 
 this boy to know that, growing np, as he had, with- 
 out a father's influence (for old Mr. Lenox had died 
 when Steve was a mere baby), petted and indulged 
 by a silly, worldly mother, left at home to his own 
 devices, or sent to boarding-school, where he learned 
 a great many things more quickly than he did "book 
 learning," Steve Lenox, at seventeen, with a great 
 deal of what boys would call fast about him, was a 
 dangerous companion for his son. 
 
 You may be very sure that the inmates of Lake- 
 side Hill were not lon^ without hearing the name of 
 Steve Lenox, for this friendship was a special bone 
 of contention between Arthur and Bob. I do not 
 think it was only because Steve treated him as a 
 youngsf er, that Bob disliked him so much. He had 
 a sort of intuitive shrinking from him, and in his 
 secret soul I think he was afraid of Steve's influence 
 over his brother. 
 
ARTHUR'S FRIEND, STEVE LENOX. 
 
 183 
 
 « He's too old for you, Arthur," he said once. 
 
 « Really, " said Arthur, annoyed, "I think I am the 
 best judge of whether my friends suit me or not. 
 Besides, two years is not such a great difference, 
 after all." 
 
 ?? But Steve is a great deal older than seventeen in 
 some things," said Bob, sagely. "I am only one 
 year younger than you, but I am sure he's ten years 
 too old for me! " 
 
 And thereupon Arthur would say that Bob must 
 be very young for his age, though he knew that this 
 was very far from being the truth ; and so the matter 
 would be left. Arthur would cling to Steve Lenox, 
 and Bob would continue to look askance at him. 
 
 When Lillie Dalton gave her New Year's party, 
 Steve Lenox was, at Arthur's instigation, invited. 
 He came, and fired Bob's very soul by the supercili- 
 ous condescension with which he treated the younger 
 o-uests. At least, Bob considered him supercilious; 
 but Mr. Osborne, on the other hand, delighted Ar- 
 thur by praising his friend. Steve was a handsome 
 fellow, and could be very engaging if he chose ; and, 
 besides, hir, father had been an old friend of grand- 
 papa's ; so perhaps he was not a fair judge. But 
 
184 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Arthur did not fail to remark to Bob, with a trium- 
 phant air, on the impression his friend had made at 
 Lakeside Hill. 
 
 "I know, for once; 9 said Bob, sententious!^ 
 "But, all the same, that's not knowing him. Be- 
 sides, grandpapa knew old Mr. Lenox; but his 
 having been a very good man doesn't make Steve a 
 very good boy. Whatever grandpapa may say about 
 influences, he died when Steve was a baby." 
 
 "You're disrespectful, Bob/' said Arthur in his 
 elder-brother manner. "I don't pretend to say that 
 Steve hasn't faults, but I dare say a great many 
 other people would, too, if they'd grown up as he 
 has." So Bob turned on his heel, and went away, to 
 prevent himself from saying anything more. 
 
 Presently came the long-wished-for invitation to 
 Arthur to visit Steve Lenox. Mrs. Lenox was p-o- 
 ing away for a month's visit, and Steve, as Arthur 
 delightedly proclaimed, "was to have two or three 
 of the fellows staying with him. And you're invit- 
 ed, too, Bob, for one night," added he. "There's 
 to be a meeting of the f Quicksilver Club' that day. 
 Steve's president, you know, and he warts you to 
 stay. ' 
 
Arthur's friend, steve lenox. 
 
 135 
 
 "I don't mean to, though," said Bob, shortly. 
 
 " Well, that's a civil way of receiving an invitation 
 for your company, I must say," said Arthur. 
 
 "He doesn't wish for my company," said Bob; 
 " he asks me because he can't help himself. He 
 knows there's no use in having the club meeting 
 without me ; and because you're to be there, he 
 thinks he must ask me to stay all night." 
 
 Grandpapa looked up from his newspaper. 
 
 "What is all this about, boys?" said he. "Bob, 
 I think, as Arthur says, that you receive this invi- 
 tation in a very improper way; besides which, one 
 part of your last speech, sounded to me somewhat 
 conceited." 
 
 "I did not mean to say anything conceited, sir," 
 said Bob, coloring. "I only meant that I held a 
 very important position in the club." 
 
 "Very likely, very likely," said Mr. Osborne, 
 hastily; "but that does not excuse this habit you 
 have of cavilling at your brother's friends. I must 
 say 1 don't like it. I approve of Arthur's cultivat- 
 ing Steve Lenox's acquaintance, and it is not for 
 you to interfere. I don't like to see you so unso- 
 cial and unfriendly." 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "Why, grandpapa!" said Jimmie, now down 
 Stairs on crutches. "Bob has more friends than any 
 of us." 
 
 "Steve Lenox is no friend of mine, though," said 
 Bob, stoutly. 
 
 " Let me hear no more about it," said grandpapa, 
 irritated. "If you care for what I say, Robert, you 
 will go, as you are asked." 
 
 "Then I do care, sir," said Bob, "and I will go." 
 
 Bob had been very right in thinking that the in- 
 vitation was a compulsory one on Steve's part. He 
 knew very well that Bob saw through him, and dis- 
 liked his influence over Arthur ; and it is not to be 
 expected that he should himself regard Bob with 
 any great favor. Again, Bob was younger than his 
 "set," and would, as Steve surmised, prove a fatal 
 drawback to some of the amusements popular with 
 himself and his friends. However, there was the 
 meeting of the "Quicksilver Base Ball Club," in 
 which Bob held the important position of pitcher. 
 It seemed almost impossible to avoid asking him. 
 "After all, it's only for one night," said Steve; 
 and the invitation was given. 
 
 With the base ball set Bob was very popular, his 
 
ARTHUR'S FRIEND, STEVE LENOX. 
 
 187 
 
 skill in the game making him of so much importance 
 that his age was quite overlooked. But when, after 
 the meeting, the members of the club left the house, 
 Bob felt as if he were considered quite out of his 
 element. Only one of the "Quicksilvers," Ned Mil- 
 man, a great, tall, athletic fellow, had remained; 
 the others were Arthur, Steve, and two of his "fast 
 set," Haseltine and Gilmore, and Bob very well 
 knew 7 they all regarded him as a mere baby — never 
 the pleasantest piece of knowledge to any boy. 
 
 "That business despatched, "said Ned Milman, as 
 the door closed on the " Quicksilvers," " what now, 
 Steve ? " 
 
 "Why anything now?" said Fred Haseltine, as he 
 lazily tipped his chair backwards and forwards on 
 two legs, and lighted a cigar. "I'm very well con- 
 tent to smoke, though, to be sure," with a glance at 
 Bob, " it mayn't suit all members of the present 
 company." 
 
 "That's very true," said good-natured Ned, with 
 a laugh, rr though I don't think Bob is the only one 
 among us who doesn't care for smoking. Hard 
 work — isn't it, Arthur ? " 
 
 For Arthur, afraid of being laughed at if he re- 
 
188 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 fused, had taken a cigar, as the others did, and was 
 now looking rather pale and uncomfortable, as he 
 deserved. 
 
 "Not very," said he, stoutly, trying to smile. 
 "Ha, ha!" laughed Ned, who made fun of every- 
 body. 
 
 " Doirt give in, Arty ! Wouldn't 3^011 think, to 
 look at him, Fred, that he had smoked all his life- 
 time?" Haseltine responded, with such a mocking 
 smile, that Bob, whose temper was always very 
 quick to take offence, and who was deeply mortified 
 by Arthur's weakness, fired up. 
 
 " You make fun of everything and everybody, 
 Ned Milman," said he, angrily. "You persuaded 
 Arthur to smoke, and you might leave some one 
 else to laugh at him for it." 
 
 "That's true enough, young one," said Ned, who 
 was really a very good-hearted fellow. "But, Bob," 
 laying his arm on the boy's shoulder, " what a reg- 
 ular Quicksilver yow are, out of the club as well as 
 in it! Why don't you leave Arthur to light Lis 
 own battles?" 
 
 "I'm sure I wish he would," said Arthur, flushing. 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Steve, with the provoking 
 
akthuu's friend, steve lenox. 
 
 189 
 
 sneer Bob disliked so much. "Discord between 
 brethren,, and under my roof, as somebody says? 
 I agree with you, Fred, it's time to propose some 
 other diversion than smoking." 
 
 " Some amusement adapted to the young," drawled 
 Gilmore. 
 
 "Come, come !" said Ned, patting Bob's shoulder. 
 w You run our young pitcher rather hard among 
 you— quite enough for this time, I should say. 
 Suppose we have a game of billiards, Steve." 
 
 " All right," said Steve ; and they mounted to the 
 billiard-room. Mrs. Lenox's billiard-room, like all 
 the rest of her house, was splendidly fitted up, and 
 Bob could not suppress a momentary repetition of 
 Arthur's old wish, "that we were rich, too," as he 
 took up one of the cues. He delighted in games. 
 
 "What shall we play for?" said Haseltine, as he 
 knocked the balls about. 
 
 "Exercise," said Milman, with a laugh, and a little 
 nod of his head in Bob's direction. 
 
 " Nonsense," returned Haseltine, contemptuously. 
 tc How much will you agree to, little Stanley?" 
 
 "I don't gamble," said Bob, shortly. 
 
 "O, pshaw!" said Haseltine, throwing down his 
 
190 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 cue. " Come, Steve, if you are going to ask babied 
 here, you must provide games for their especial 
 edification. The rest of us can't stand this." 
 
 "You needn't speak for anybody but yourself, 
 Haseltine," said Bob, coolly. * Arthur doesn't play 
 for money, either." 
 
 "Steve does," said Haseltine with a sneer; "and 
 he and Arthur count for one." 
 
 The blood rushed into Bob's face, and Steve again 
 had to interfere. "Come, come, Fred," said he, 
 " nobody said anything about money this time. 
 Let's begin without any more quarrelling." And 
 Haseltine, with much muttering about "slow work" 
 and " babies," took up his cue. 
 
 "I'm sorry I came, Lenox," said Bob, looking up. 
 " They all think I spoil everything, you see." 
 
 "I don't," said Ned, heartily, while Steve mum- 
 bled something polite. " I'd back you against all 
 of them, little Stanley, at handling any kind of a 
 ball." 
 
 But Bob was heartily glad when morning came, 
 and he packed his bag, to go back to Lakeville after 
 school. 
 
 "O, dear me ! " he had said to himself that night, 
 
ARTHUR'S FRIEND, STEVE LENOX. 
 
 191 
 
 as he laid his head on his pillow, "how 1 wish papa 
 were here ! What will become of Arthur here for 
 a whole month with these follows? And I can do 
 just nothing about it ! " Bob went to sleep with 
 something very like a tear on his cheek. In spite, 
 however, of his discouraging reflection that he could 
 do nothing about it, he did not go home without 
 one little "try." 
 
 "Arthur," said he, when they were alone together 
 for a minute in the morning, "don't let these fellows 
 persuade you into doing things you wouldn't do 
 yourself — will you? Don't let them make you 
 gamble or — or anything — will you ? They're such 
 a fast set ! " 
 
 Bob tried to speak, as papa would have said, "in 
 the right spirit," but Arthur turned round angrily. 
 
 "Bob," said he, "I must say that you are alto- 
 gether too much addicted to giving advice, consid- 
 ering that you are younger than I. I am quite able 
 to take care of myself, thank you ; and when I want 
 your warnings, I'll ask for them." 
 
 "Don't be angry, Arty," said Bob, gently, the 
 tears rushing into his eyes. "I hoped you'd know 
 I spoke because I thought of papa." 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Arthur's sweet temper was melted. "I dare say 
 you meant all right, Bob," said he, laying his hand 
 affectionately on his brother's shoulder. "But you 
 must remember that I think of what papa would 
 wish, as well as you." 
 
 Bob departed, somewhat comforted by these 
 words, if only words did not mean so little with 
 some people. 
 
A SIEGE, IN WHICH ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A SIEGE, IN WHICH ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 
 
 rjlHE days went by, and Arthur was still visiting 
 -L Steve Lenox. Bob saw him at school, and 
 occasionally, too, he and Steve would drive over to 
 Lakeside Hill, and be received with the greatest 
 hospitality by Mr. Osborne, who would perhaps 
 declare, after they were gone, that he delighted to 
 have these young fellows, Arthur's friends, come to 
 the house, and that he had never seen Arthur in such 
 spirits. Grandpapa was very apt to be delighted 
 with all Arthur's doings: he was proud of him, his 
 beauty, his talents, and the attention he received; 
 and it was Ho wonder, therefore, that he liked to see 
 his friends. But everybody did not agree with Mr. 
 Osborne in thinking that Arthur had never been in 
 better spirits. 
 
 "Bob," said cousin Sue, coming behind him, as he 
 stoud at the window, with rather a moody face, 
 13 
 
1D4 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 watching Arthur and his friends drive off, " what is 
 the matter with Arthur ? " 
 
 Boh started. " Who told you there was anything 
 the matter, cousin Sue?" said he. 
 
 "Nobody but my own eyes," returned Sue, 
 smiling. * I thought that Arthur was looking a 
 little worried, and out of sorts; and though he 
 laughed and talked a good deal, it all sounded forced 
 to me, as if he had something on his mind. I thought 
 you might have observed it, too." 
 
 It was Bob's turn to look worried now. " O, do 
 you really think so?" said he, anxiously. "O, Sue, 
 please don't say anything about it to any one else, 
 unless they speak of it to you. I thought just as 
 you did about Arthur this afternoon, but he hasn't 
 said anything to me ; and he won't like it if anybody 
 says he isn't like himself." 
 
 "I won't speak of it to any one, my dear," said 
 Sue, kindly. 
 
 It was not by any means the first time that Bob 
 had noticed a change in Arthur. He laughed and 
 talked a good deal, as Sue had said, and always 
 yeemed to try to appear particularly merry when his 
 brother was near. But Bob was not blinded to the 
 
A SIEGE, IN WHICH ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 195 
 
 fact that he looked pale and harassed, and as if 
 something was on his mind. He thought, too, that 
 Arthur avoided him, as if dreading lest he should 
 ask him questions. However, he kept his anxieties 
 to himself, for it might, " after all," he thought, M be 
 only fancy ; he disliked these fellows so much him- 
 self." At any rate, he would wait till Arthur should 
 speak to him. Bob waited, but Arthur did not 
 speak* 
 
 At last came a day when his brother was not at 
 school, nor was Steve there, though Bob watched the 
 door with untiring eyes, hoping to see him enter 
 among the tardy ones. He could hardly wait for the 
 recess bell, and scarcely had it rung, when he was on 
 his way to the Lenox house. 
 
 c< Mr. Stephen," the servant said, "was not at home." 
 So Bob made his way alone up to the room where 
 he knew Arthur slept. He opened the door softly, 
 and peeped in. Arthur was there, sure enough, 
 lying in bed in an uneasy attitude, one arm under his 
 head, his face flushed and heated. The room, with 
 all its handsome furniture, luxurious carpet, and 
 curtains, had an uncomfortable, disorderly appear- 
 ance, and gave Bob a homesick sort of feeling. He 
 
196 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 remembered other times, when one or another of 
 them had been sick, and father and mother had been 
 with them to attend to little wants and comforts. 
 Poor Arthur looked so neglected ! 
 
 Bob advanced into the room on tiptoe. 
 
 "Are yon sick, Arty?" said he, gently. 
 
 Arthur started, and looked up, his face flushing 
 still more. " Are you there, Bob?" said he, putting 
 his hand to his head. "Did Steve tell you I was 
 sick?" 
 
 "Not he," said Bob, indignantly; "he wasn't at 
 school. Is this the way your friends treat their 
 visitors when they're sick — leaving them to take 
 care of themselves, while they play truant?" 
 
 "It's nothing much," said Arthur, lowering his 
 eyes; "only a splitting headache." He fell back on 
 the pillow as he spoke, and put up his hand to keep 
 out the light. Bob softly crossed the room, and 
 pulled down the curtain, then walked again to the 
 bed, and took Arthur's hand. 
 
 " How hot your hand is, Arthur ! " said he, startled. 
 "I think you must be going to have a fever. I 
 believe I shall go for a doctor." 
 
 "No, no; don't do any such thing," said Arthur, 
 
A SIEGE, IN WHICH ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 197 
 
 " ONLY A SPLITTING HEADACHE." 
 
 hurriedly, uncovering his face. "And mind, Bob, 
 don't say anything at home about my being sick. 
 It's nothing. I shall be all right to-morrow, if that 
 were all." 
 
 " But at least, Arthur, you must tell me what is 
 the matter. How can I be sure that it is nothing, as 
 you say ? " 
 
 " Because I tell you so," said Arthur. "It's only 
 — it's only — you silly fellow," trying to laugh, and 
 
19S 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 covering his eyes again — " that Steve had some 
 fellows here last night, and a supper, and I suppose 
 I drank too much wine. It gave me a headache ; 
 that's all." 
 
 Bob stood speechless, gazing at his brother. 
 
 "O, Arthur ! " said he. That was all, but the tone 
 went to Arthur's very heart, and made him wretched. 
 "I know," said he, turning over uneasily; "you 
 needn't say any more. And you needn't fancy, 
 either, Bob, that it was anything more than I say. 
 Of course I did not get intoxicated, or anything of 
 that sort ; it was only that I wasn't used to it." 
 
 It was on Bob's lips to say that he had told Arthur 
 that these fellows, their habits, and ways were not 
 suited to him ; but he remembered in time that there 
 is nothing more trying than to have some one say, 
 W I told you so," and was silent. 
 
 "If that were all," said Arthur, with a long, weary 
 sigh, "I wouldn't mind." 
 
 Bob's heart gave an uncomfortable sort of bound 
 as Arthur said this. But he saw, too, that Arthur 
 wished to tell him something, and in his clumsy, boy 
 fashion he tried to show Arthur that he was ready to 
 be confided in — smoothing the pillows as his mother 
 
A SIEGE, IN WHICH ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 199 
 
 might have done, and, finally, taking Arthur's hand 
 again. 
 
 "What do you mind, Arthur?" said he, gently, at 
 last. 
 
 w You are such a hard fellow to tell ! " groaned 
 pi or Arthur, turning his face to the wall. "It's dif- 
 ferent with you from me, Bob ; things that I might 
 get drawn into doings you never would, because — 
 well, I don't believe some things are any temptation 
 to you. There, I believe I won't tell you, after all ! 
 But yet, I must speak to somebody — I am so 
 unhappy ! " 
 
 "Do tell me, Arty!" whispered Bob, choking 
 down a big lump in his throat. 
 
 "Well, this, then," said Arthur, nervously. "I 
 owe Lenox some money — there! Don't speak — 
 I've not done. You don't know what it is, Bob, to 
 have fellows ask you, night after night, to do things, 
 and have them think you mean because you refuse. 
 You may talk about principles and all that, but what 
 do you suppose Fred Haseltine and Horace Gilmore 
 care about principles? They call it stinginess! " 
 
 "And you — " said Bob, looking up, with a look 
 in his dark eyes that made Arthur drop his. 
 
200 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 tr Played for money, — yes," said Arthui ; "and as 
 I had very little of my own, I borrowed of Steve. 
 Then, of course, I lost. Was that my fault?" 
 
 The little air of bravado with which he said this 
 did not deceive his hearer; indeed, I don't think Bob 
 heard the last words. 
 
 " O, Arthur ! " said he, again. " You ! And papa ! " 
 He threw himself on the bed by his brother, and 
 cried as if his heart would break. For a minute 
 Arthur did the same ; but he was too miserable to be 
 silent long. 
 
 "There, Bob," said he, querulously, "I knew you 
 would take it just so. I knew you wouldn't, under- 
 stand the least bit how I could get drawn into it ! 
 Besides, it isn't much, after all — only — " 
 
 "It isn't the much or the little I care about," 
 sobbed Bob; "it's the thing itself. O, Arthur, I 
 never could have believed that you, whom we all 
 thought so much of — " 
 
 " Don't, don't ! " said Arthur, as if the words 
 stabbed him. " O, Bob, can't you do anything 
 better for me than to lie there, and cry, and tell me 
 that, when I am so miserable?" 
 
 Bob sat up in a minute. "I know it isn't the right 
 
A SIEGE, IN WHICH ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 201 
 
 way," said he; "I'll try to do better, now. HoW 
 much is it, Arthur?" 
 
 "It's only twenty dollars," said Arthur, without 
 looking Bob in the face. 
 
 Bob gave a long whistle. " Twenty dollars!" said 
 he, in a low tone. 
 
 "Yes," said Arthur, going on hurriedly, " and that 
 wouldn't be so much if we only had half what other 
 boys do — " 
 
 re O, Arthur!" said Bob, the tears rising to his 
 eyes again. "Papa can't, you know." 
 
 "Well, then," said Arthur, "he might let grand- 
 papa give us allowances, as he wants to. If I go 
 with all these rich fellows, it is so hard to be pinched 
 and scrimped as we are, while they have any quantity 
 of pocket-money ! " 
 
 Bob might have replied by saying that this had 
 been one of Mr. Stanley's own arguments against the 
 suitableness of Steve Lenox's intimacy with Arthur ; 
 he might have reminded his brother of his own words 
 so little while ago, — "I can't bear to take favors 
 from other people, and make no return," — but 
 Bob's hasty tongue seemed wonderfully under control 
 to-day. 
 
202 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "I don't see that you tell me anything," sighed 
 Arthur. " I suppose there's no way but to send 
 to papa." 
 
 "Papa!" cried Bob; "O, Arthur, don't do that! 
 I don't mean, of course, don't tell him, by and by, 
 when he is better ; but now, when he is so sick ! and 
 I can't bear to ask him for even that money. Don't, 
 Arthur ! " 
 
 w What shall I do, then? " said Arthur, helplessly. 
 
 "I don't see," said Bob, slowly. "I don't see any 
 way but grandpapa all about it, and ask him 
 
 to lend you the raone^ /' 
 
 It was Arthur's turn to exclaim now. "Tell 
 grandpapa?" said he, starting up. "No, Bob, I 
 can't and won't do that, if Steve is never paid ! I 
 should die if grandpapa knew I had done such a 
 thing ! I never could make him believe it of me, in 
 the first place, and if he did, I never could hold up 
 in}' head again. Bob, promise me that you will 
 never tell him." 
 
 "/ should never tell him, of course," said Bob. 
 "I only thought it would be the best thing possible 
 for you to do ; and I think so still. But if you won't, 
 there's an end of it." 
 
A SIEGE, IN WHICH ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 203 
 
 "Then you won't help me?" said poor Arthur, 
 fulling back on the pillow. 
 
 Bob held out his brown hand. "Indeed, I will," 
 said he. "I'm going to think — I am thinking — 
 what is the best thing, and 1 begin to have an idea. 
 But, Arthur, you will come home now — won't you?" 
 
 "No, no," said Arthur, uneasily; "why should 1? 
 Everybody would think there was something the 
 matter, — and Steve and I are friends, all the same, 
 you know. Don't say anything more about it; and, 
 Bob, you must go back to school ; recess is over long 
 ago. But you will help me, — won't you? — I have 
 been so wretched." 
 
 " Poor Arty ! " said Bob, laying his hand on his 
 brother's shoulder. "I will help you." 
 
 "And," whispered Arthur, as Bob got down from 
 the bed, "you will try — won't you? — you can't 
 know how hard it has all been — you will try to 
 think of me as you did before — won't you?" 
 
 Poor Arthur ! that was so like him ! How others 
 thought of him mattered so very much ! Losing his 
 younger brother's respect seemed for more to him 
 than the thought of his own fault. His voice and 
 look, as he said the words, went to Bob's very heart. 
 
204 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "Don't speak about it, Arthur," said he, with a 
 choke ; "I will do everything I can. Good by." 
 
 "Good by," said Arthur, squeezing Bob's hand; 
 "you are a good fellow." 
 
 Poor, generous Bob ! As he rushed through the 
 streets back to school, the tears hardly dry on his 
 cheek, and a great sob in his throat, I think the 
 thing that lay heaviest on his heart was the thought 
 that Arthur could not be to him, in future, all he 
 had, in his enthusiastic fashion, fancied him, ever 
 since he could remember. To have our idols broken 
 is a thing that, to some of us, can never grow less 
 hard, however often it may happen; and this was 
 Bob's first experience. 
 
 He had promised Arthur to consider what plan 
 would be best to adopt to help him out of his dif- 
 ficulty ; and, as he had told Arthur, he already had 
 an idea in his head. Upon this idea he considered 
 so deeply during the remainder of school time, that 
 he w T as preoccupied even in recitation, and gave such 
 dreamy answers, that his teacher looked at him won- 
 deringly. Bob Stanley was generally a wide-awake 
 boy. 
 
 Whatever the idea might be, he had evidently 
 
A SIEGE, IN WILIC/I ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 205 
 
 come to a decision about it before the end of school, 
 for he started up, with the first sound of the bell, 
 with a very resolute air. He did not go immediate- 
 ly, however, but seemed waiting for some one ; and 
 no sooner did a tall, long-legged, studious-looking 
 fellow, who sat in the front row of desks, leave the 
 building, than Bob caught up his cap, and ran after 
 him. 
 
 "Digby," said he, coming up, quite breathless, "I 
 want to speak to you a minute." 
 
 Digby, who was plodding along, with his hat 
 pulled over his brows, looked up, startled, as if 
 he had just been waked out of a brown study. 
 
 "Q, it's you, little Stanley," said he; "well, what 
 is it?" 
 
 "Didn't you say, a little while ago," said Bob, 
 plunging directly in medias res, " when I showed 
 you my box of mathematical instruments, that you'd 
 tried to get one like it, and couldn't find one?" 
 
 " Not one that suited me as well," said Digby ; 
 "but what of that?" 
 
 "Because," said Bob, flushing crimson, "if you 
 want one still, I'd like to sell you mine." 
 
 "I thought you said it was a present," said Digby ; 
 as if involuntarily, with a surprised glance nt Bob. 
 
206 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "So I did," said Bob, still crimson. "But — 
 but — " then getting over his little hesitation, and 
 bringing out the end of the sentence quickly, "no 
 matter ; I want the money ; so I shan't mind that ! " 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said Digby, kindly; "[ 
 oughtn't to have said that — it was no business of 
 mine. I suppose you will think this isn't either; 
 but I hope you've not been getting into any trouble, 
 Bob ! " 
 
 "No — no," said Bob, raising his head a little 
 proudly, "nothing like what you think of. But, 
 Digby, please don't ask me any questions about it. 
 I don't want to answer them ; though you may be 
 sure it's all right. Do you want my box? " 
 
 " If you would like to sell it," said Digby. " How 
 much did it cost?" 
 
 "I don't know exactly," said Bob, turning red 
 again. "Something over twenty dollars, I know; 
 but you shall have it for that, if you'll give it to me. 
 I've used the box very little myself." 
 
 "It's a bargain, then," said Digby, laughing a little 
 nervously, for Bob's embarrassment was contagious; 
 "and you'd like the twenty dollars pretty soon — 
 wouldn't you?" 
 
A SIEGE, IN WHICH ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 207 
 
 " Yes, thank you," said Bob; "and, Digby, I'm 
 very much obliged to you. Would you mind if I 
 asked you not to say anything about — about the 
 box being mine, unless you're asked, you know? I'd 
 a little rather not have it talked about." 
 
 "I'll be as mute as the grave," said Digby, pleas- 
 antly, "and we'll conclude the bargain to-morrow." 
 
 "Then thank you again, and good by," said Bob, 
 starting off at a run for the cars, as if afraid that his 
 resolution might falter, if he delayed longer. 
 
 "I wonder," said Digby, as he plodded on his 
 way, "what the little chap has been up to. I — " 
 
 He had not time to get any farther in his soliloquy, 
 for Bob was back at his elbow. "Digby," said he, 
 looking up with his honest eyes, "I ran back to ask 
 you not to be afraid there is anything underhand 
 about my selling my box. I'd tell you all about it, 
 as far as I am concerned ; and if I don't, it's not 
 because it isn't all fair and square. You'll take my 
 word for it — won't you ? " 
 
 "I'll trust you, Bob," said Digby, touched by the 
 boy's truthful face ; and Bob was off again like a 
 shot. Two mornings after, when Arthur opened his 
 desk, he found a little note addressed to himself, in 
 
208 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 his brother's handwriting. As his desk-mates were 
 both out of their seats, and he could read it unob- 
 served, he opened the envelope at once. Two ten 
 dollar greenbacks, and a pencilled scrawl from 
 Bob: — 
 
 Dear Arty : Here's the twenty dollars for you, 
 all right, and I'm so glad ! Don't ask me any ques- 
 tions about how I got it; I'd rather you wouldn't. 
 I'm not indebted to anybody for it, and you may be 
 sure I did not come by it in any way but a fair one. 
 It's all mine to do as I please with, and I please 
 to give it to you to pay S. L. with. You'll do it 
 at once, I know, both for your own sake and mine ; 
 and I'm sure I need not be afraid of your getting 
 into another such scrape. Only think no more 
 about it, and look like your old self again, and I 
 shan't want anything more. J3 OB- 
 
 As Arthur finished reading the scrap, ho raised 
 his eyes, and looked over to his brother's desk. 
 Bob was watching him. Arthur had very beautiful, 
 expressive eyes, and the glance they gave Bob at 
 that moment rendered words unnecessary. Hob 
 
A SIEGE, IN WHICH ARTHUR SURRENDERS. 209 
 
 bent over his book again, with a perfect thrill of 
 happiness in his heart. If any secret unhappiness 
 had larked in his mind at the thought of his seem- 
 ingly thankless use of his grandfather's gift, it was 
 gone that minute. 
 
 ff And if grandpapa ever finds it out, and feels 
 hurt,' 7 said he to himself, "I am sure I can bear it. 
 I would not have any secrets for myself; but I 
 think even papa would say I had done nothing 
 wrong in this ! " 
 
 14 
 
210 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 bob's battles, and how he bore himself n 
 
 HILE these things had been happening, 
 
 t T spring had been coming on. The snow 
 had melted away, the blue lake had changed its 
 smooth ice for a rippled surface of waters, the snow- 
 drops and crocuses had shot up in the Lakeside 
 Hill garden, and the brown buds on the horse-chest- 
 nut trees were swelling more and more in their 
 sticky sheaths. Spring had come, and in the air 
 was that peculiarly glad, stirring feeling, which 
 always seems to accompany the awakening grass 
 and flowers, the merry songs of the birds, and the 
 babbling of the little brooks, let loose from their 
 icy prisons. There w r as not one of the inmates of 
 Lakeside Hill who did not feel this influence, despite 
 the tact that the longer and sunnier grew the days, 
 the nearer approached something which all of them 
 
 them. 
 
BOBS BATTLES, AND HOW HE BORE HIMSELF. 211 
 
 were dreading, however little they might speak of 
 it. This spring Colonel Dalton was to go back to 
 the war; his arm was almost as well as ever now; 
 he had long ago left off his sling, and, as soon as 
 the weather was warm enough, he w 7 ould go into 
 camp at Wrighton, a neighboring tow 7 n, to drill his 
 new regiment. Everybody thought of this, from 
 grandpapa down to heedless Geoffrey ; and yet, in 
 spite of it, no one would say that they were sorry to 
 see the earth waking up again to fresh life under the 
 sunbeams. 
 
 Colonel Dalton w r as sitting one evening, as he 
 often did now, with papers, books, and plans spread 
 before him. Lillie was hanging over his shoulder, 
 but saying nothing about his occupation ; she had 
 grown wonderfully in powers of self-control this 
 winter, and whatever she might feel about her 
 brother's departure, she did not trouble him, as she 
 w 7 oulcl once have done, with useless lamentations 
 and fretful complaints. 
 
 "Bob," said Guy, without looking up, "will you 
 lend me a pair of compasses?" 
 
 Bob started, and flushed all over his face. The 
 time was come then, — not when Arthur's secret 
 
212 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 must be known, for Bob would have died sooner 
 than betray that, — but when it must be known 
 that there was something he could not tell. 
 
 " I would lend them to you with pleasure, Colonel 
 Dalton," said he, with an odd little nervous laugh, 
 "if I had them to lend." 
 
 Geoffrey looked up wonderingly. 
 
 "Why, Bob/' said he, innocently, "have you for- 
 gotten? There are some compasses in your box." 
 
 Bob colored again furiously. "There are — I 
 mean I have none," said he. 
 
 Colonel Dalton, who saw, by the boy's troubled 
 look, that something was the matter, would now 
 have silenced Geoffrey, had it been possible. But 
 Geoffrey was not an easy person to silence. 
 
 "Grandpapa," said he, appealingly, to Mr. Os- 
 borne, "weren't there some compasses in the big 
 box you gave Bob on Christmas?" 
 
 "Certainly there were," said grandpapa, looking 
 up over his gold spectacles. " If Bob has forgotten, 
 I think he had better go and refresh his memory 
 by looking at his box, instead of standing there, 
 parleying about it, and keeping Colonel Dalton 
 waiting." 
 
bob's battles, and how he bore himself. 213 
 
 Bob's lip trembled. 
 
 "It's of no consequence," said Colonel Dalton, 
 quickly; "don't say any more about it, please, Mr. 
 Osborne." 
 
 " But it is of very great consequence, Guy," per- 
 sisted grandpapa, laying down his paper. " There's 
 something I don't understand here. Bob is not 
 generally so disobliging when people ask favors 
 of him." 
 
 "Colonel Dalton should have anything I had!" 
 cried Bob, his voice trembling like his lip. "But 
 I've not got the compasses, grandpapa, because I've 
 not got the box any longer." 
 
 " Not got the box ! " repeated grandpapa, in 
 amazement. "Where is it, then?" 
 
 "I sold it to another fellow," said Bob, turning 
 very pale. 
 
 " Sold it ! " exclaimed Mr. Osborne. " My Christ- 
 mas present ! " 
 
 "I'm very sorry, sir," said poor Bob; "but I 
 wanted the money." 
 
 " The money ! " said Mr. Osborne ; " and am I 
 such a terrible old fellow, pray, that my own grand- 
 sons can't come to me for money when they want 
 
214 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 it, instead of selling my presents like young 
 pedlers?" 
 
 " James, James ! " said grandmamma, softly ; " I 
 dare say Bob has some good reason." 
 
 Grandpapa was too much excited to do anything 
 just then but jump up and poke the fire. That 
 done, he turned round upon Bob. 
 
 "Well, well," said he, in a somewhat pacified 
 tone, " let's hear the reason, Bob, and judge 
 whether, as your grandmamma says, it is such a 
 good one." 
 
 "I'm very sorry, sir," said Bob, again, "but I 
 can't tell you what the reason is, except, as I said 
 before, that I wanted the money." 
 
 "And what sort of a reason is that, pray?" said 
 grandpapa. "Did you want the money for your- 
 self, or for w hom ? " 
 
 "Please don't ask me, grandpapa," said poor Bob, 
 piteously. "Indeed, I can't tell you. Won't you 
 please trust me ? " 
 
 "How can I trust you without knowing anything 
 about it?" said grandpapa, now both distressed and 
 angry. "I've heard your father talk, time after 
 time, about 'trusting Bob — he's as open as tl.* 
 
bob's battles, and how he bore himself. 215 
 
 day.' And now how can I trust you, when I find 
 you're not as open as the day? I begin to be very 
 much afraid, sir, that your father trusted you some- 
 times when he ought not!" 
 
 ff O, grandpapa!" said Jimmie, softly. 
 
 Bob said not a word, but rushed out of the room, 
 and they heard him sobbing on the stairs. 
 
 "I can't help feeling sure that there's nothing 
 wrong about Bob, Mr. Osborne," said Colonel Dai- 
 ton, earnestly; for the boy had given him a look 
 from his honest eyes, as he passed him, that was as 
 good as a declaration of his innocence of all wrong 
 doing. 
 
 « I wish I were as sure of it, Guy," said grand- 
 papa, still hotly. "No, no, my dear, don't shake 
 your head at me. I must examine into this matter 
 more closely. I don't like it. With all his faults, 
 Bob has always been straightforward before; and 
 I say again, I don't like this." So the evening was 
 ,i very gloomy one. 
 
 So was the next morning, when everybody was 
 very silent ; and poor Bob swallowed his breakfast, 
 feeling as if everybody were looking at him inquir- 
 ingly or suspiciously, and hurried off to school with 
 a heavy heart. 
 
216 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 When he came home, grandmamma told him, in 
 her gentle, pleasant way, that grandpapa wanted to 
 see him in the library. "And, Bob, dear," said she, 
 patting his shoulder, kindly, " if I were you, I'd 
 tell him all about it. You know he's only a little 
 angry at first, but it will all go off when he finds 
 you're all right ! " 
 
 Bob didn't say a word ; he only kissed the kindly 
 face, and marched off to the library. When he 
 opened the door, he saw Colonel Dalton standing 
 talking with his grandfather. 
 
 "Come in. Bob," said he, kindly. "I'm going 
 immediately." 
 
 " No, don't go, Colonel Dalton," said Bob, 
 stretching out his hand. " I had as lief — no, a 
 great deal rather — you were here; though, indeed, 
 I've nothing to tell." 
 
 " Now, Bob, my boy," said grandpapa, beginning 
 pleasantly, and quite as if he had not heard what 
 Bob said, I "don't want to be hard on you — I don't 
 think I often am ; am I? It isn't that I feel hurt 
 at your parting with my present, so much as grieved 
 that you should not have come to me in a straight- 
 forward way, if you had got into trouble, and need- 
 
bob's battles, and how he bore himself. 217 
 
 -bcI money. I never refuse you anything in reason ; 
 do I?" 
 
 "No, sir," said Bob, with his eyes fixed on the 
 carpet. 
 
 " Good," said Mr. Osborne, as if so much was 
 grained. "Then let us make a clean breast of it at 
 once. Did you want the money for yourself, or 
 not?" 
 
 " Grandpapa," said Bob, raising his eyes, " I really 
 can't tell you, and I wish you would believe me 
 when I say so." - 
 
 "Bob, Bob ! " said Mr. Osborne, greatly troubled, 
 " what am I to do about this ? It isn't only that 
 I want to inquire into your doings, as you seem 
 to think, but I am responsible to a certain extent 
 to your father for the conduct of you boys, since 
 you are under my charge, and it is right and just 
 that I should know what you are doing. Arthur 
 tells me, the rest all tell me, and I don't understand 
 this want of openness on your part, Bob." 
 
 Guy, who had not said a word, looked earnestly 
 at Bob while his grandfather was speaking, and 
 saw the boy press his lips tight together when Mr. 
 Osborue spoke of Arthur, while the angry blood 
 
218 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 slowly mounted to his cheek. But his tone was 
 still perfectly calm and respectful as he said, be- 
 seechingly, — 
 
 w Will you please, grandpapa, not say any more 
 about it, either to me or any one else in the house?" 
 
 "lean make no promises of the kind, sir," said 
 grandpapa, pushing back his chair, and walking 
 across the room. " I cannot write to your father 
 just now, because he is ill, and I haven't the heart 
 to pain him. Otherwise I should think it my duty 
 to let him know how grievously he is mistaken in 
 thinking he has in you a truthful, trustworthy son. 
 I am not likely to talk much about what is such 
 a serious matter to me ; but you cannot expect, 
 Robert, that while you persist in such obstinacy, 
 either your grandmother or I can treat you with 
 the same confidence and affection. I should advise 
 you to go off quietly by yourself, and think a little ; 
 read your Bible, and see if you can't come to a 
 better frame of mind." 
 
 Poor Bob ! that foe of his w T as too strong for him 
 now. His hot temper made his face burn, his heart 
 throb, and his words almost choke him, as he 
 burst out, passionately, — 
 
bob's battles, and how he bore himself. 21 l J 
 
 "You can't understand — it's no use ! Bead my 
 Bible — what for? Papa says it isn't the Bible that 
 can help us when we're wrong; unless we change 
 ourselves, we might read till doomsday, and it 
 wouldn't do any good. But I've got nothing to 
 change; and I'm very sure there's no use in my 
 reading it." 
 
 There was some cause for Mr. Osborne's displeas- 
 ure with the words and the disrespectful tone. 
 
 "Don't stand there, telling me what your father 
 says," said he, sternly. w Whatever I may think 
 about his opinions, one thing I know, and that is, 
 that his system, whatever it may be, has been a 
 complete failure with you! Go to your room 
 directly ! " 
 
 Bob gave one heart-broken glance in the direc- 
 tion of the colonel, and again rushed from the room. 
 Shut up in his little bedroom, a hundred bitter, 
 angry feelings rushed through his heart. Arthur 
 was open; told everything, did he? O, how unjust 
 that he should go about so admired and respected, 
 while his brother was suffering for his faults ! 
 
 " Where is the use," said Bob, bitterly, to himself, 
 e? in trying to be good, if I am always to be so harsh- 
 
220 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 ly treated and so misunderstood? Here is all 
 good name for honesty gone with giandpapa; and 
 why? Just because I tried to help my brother out. 
 of trouble, and foolishly promised to keep his 
 secret ! " 
 
 But as he thought these words, a voice seemed 
 to say to him, ?f And do you try to be good then, 
 Bob, for the sake of being good, or for the sake 
 of being thought so? If you are honest and honor- 
 able, can it hurt you if people think otherwise?" 
 
 It might have been Mr. Stanley himself who 
 spoke. Bob rested his elbows on the window-sill, 
 and pressed his hot forehead against the cool glass. 
 Just at that moment a hand tapped on the window- 
 pane ; and, looking up, he saw Geoffrey's round, 
 rosy face, nodding and smiling at him. Geoffrey 
 was standing on the roof of the piazza, having 
 scaled the water-spout, more, I suspect, for the sake 
 of the exploit, than to speak to his brother. 
 
 w Open the window, Bob," said he ; then, as Bob 
 threw up the sash, " I'm so sorry I got you into 
 a scrape with grandpapa! I didn't know a word 
 about the box. But why won't you tell? Is it 
 anything about Arthur, or any other boy?" 
 
bob's battles, and how he bore himself. Ill 
 
 "You mustn't ask me any questions, Geoffrey,' 1 
 said Bob, shaking his head. "But don't be sorry 
 about what you said ; it must have come some time. 
 Only don't fancy that I've done anything to bo 
 ashamed of." 
 
 « I don't," said Geoffrey, stoutly. " I only wish I 
 could talk to grandpapa ; " and he doubled his plump 
 fists fiercely. His sympathy, oddly expressed as it 
 was, soothed Bob ; it comforted him that his little 
 brother, at least, should believe in him. And he 
 saw Geoffrey's curly head disappear below the roof 
 of the piazza, with a kindlier feeling towards the 
 others, who had, as it seemed, so cruelly misunder- 
 stood him. 
 
 The next visitor was Jimmie, whose soft little 
 voice came to Bob through the key-hole, as he had 
 locked the door, when he rushed up stairs, choking 
 with hot, angry passion. 
 
 "Bob, dear," said the little voice, "it is only I. 
 You needn't open the door if you don't want to. I 
 have brought you a letter from papa. It came Avhile 
 you were at school, and the others forgot to tell you. 
 Please don't feel badly, Bob." 
 
 And then the letter, with its foreign stamps, was 
 
222 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 pushed under the door. Bob hastily turned the key, 
 but Jimmie was already gone. 
 
 The letter was written from Germany, and con- 
 tained a good deal of bright, lively description of 
 what Mr. Stanley was seeing and enjoying; but I 
 will only give the part that was meant particularly 
 for Bob. 
 
 " When I wander through these picturesque Ger- 
 man castles," said the writer, "I often find myself 
 smiling, to think how Bob, if he were here, would 
 tell himself stories about the times when knights and 
 barons lived here, and astonished the world with 
 their bold doings ; how he would build air-castles as 
 high as the castles of stone, and perhaps make him- 
 self the knight who lived in them. And then, 
 because I cannot have him with me, I find myself 
 weaving a little romance for him, and thinking what 
 a brave knight he would have made, after all, if he 
 had only lived in those times; how T earnestly he 
 would have gone into battle, and what an ardent 
 devotion he would have brought to the good cause ! 
 I really got quite enthusiastic over the picture of 
 Bob putting on his shield and buckler, and going 
 out, against the oppressors of the poor and the 
 
bob's battles, and now he boke himself. 223 
 
 enemies of the land, with such a brave heart. And 
 then I laughed at myself, and waked up, and, as I 
 walked soberly home, I thought that life in the nine- 
 teenth century did not look so very every-day after 
 all, and that even Bob need not fancy himself so 
 very far from being a chivalrous knight, if he does 
 live in New England. Earnestness and enthusiasm 
 are never thrown away; and. truth and openness are 
 a shield and buckler, which, with my honest boy, 
 will not, I am sure, need so much polishing and 
 rubbing up as those old knights were forced to give 
 their armor." 
 
 These last words, coming just at this time, touched 
 the sore spot in Bob's heart. " O, papa, papa," he 
 said, stretching out his arms, " why aren't you here, 
 to speak for me?" He threw himself on the bed, 
 and burst into tears. 
 
 There was a knock at the door ; it was half opened, 
 and Colonel Dal ton's voice said, * May I come in for 
 a moment, Bob?" 
 
 " Do come," said Bob, sitting up ; " I want to see 
 you, Colonel Dalton." 
 
 Guy came in, accordingly, and oat down ou the 
 foot of the bed. 
 
224 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "I am not going to ask you any questions, Bob," 
 said he ; " I know that sometimes we cannot tell 
 everything for other people's sake, though I do not 
 believe in having secrets for one's self. But I know 
 that that is not your way ; so I feel more sure that I 
 may trust you now." 
 
 "You may! you may!" sobbed Bob, feeling as 
 if a helping hand were stretched out to him. " O, 
 Colonel Dalton," said he, a moment afterwards, "if 
 only grandpapa would feel as you do ! If only he 
 would ever understand me ! " 
 
 "My dear Bob," said the colonel, "don't think 
 you are the only person in the world who is mis- 
 understood. I don't suppose there ever was one 
 earnest, sensitive soul on earth, who did not, at 
 some time or other, make that complaint. It is part 
 of the discipline of life, Bob, to learn to £et alon^ 
 without being wholly understood." 
 
 "I should be satisfied," said the boy, "if he under- 
 stood as well as you do. But is it not hard to feel 
 that while others — I mean, that while I am trying 
 so hard to do what is right, I get no credit even for 
 what I deserve ,; " 
 
 "Ah, Bob," said Guy, smiling, "if it is the credit 
 
BOB'S BATTLES, AND HOW HE BOllE HIMSELF. 225 
 
 you care for, it can't be the doing right you're think- 
 ing of." 
 
 * Please don't think I meant just that," said Bob, 
 earnestly. "I can't explain exactly what I do mean, 
 for fear of saying too much. But, Colonel Dalton, 
 grandpapa misunderstands me even in little things. 
 I only meant, when I said that about the Bible, you 
 know, that if I was wrong, I must change myself; 
 the Bible wouldn't change me. Papa wouldn't have 
 said there was anything wrong in that, I am sure, 
 but grandpapa thought I said something wicked." 
 
 "Jam sure," said Colonel Dalton, gently, "that 
 your father would have found fault with one thing 
 — not what you said, perhaps, but how you said 
 it!" 
 
 " Colonel Dalton," said the impulsive boy, throw- 
 ing himself on the hand which rested near him, "if 
 they would only talk as you do, and be as you are, I 
 should never be angry ! I know I was wrong, and I 
 will tell grandpapa so to-morrow. I'm glad you 
 said that to me, and I love you for it." 
 
 Colonel Dalton rose, and gently stroked Bob's 
 hot cheek. " I am going away now," said he, 
 presently, "to leave you quietly by yourself for a 
 15 
 
226 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 little. You see you may count on having one friend, 
 when you feel inclined to believe the world is your 
 enemy." 
 
 And this friend, you may be sure, was one Bob 
 valued. 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 227 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 AS spring had advanced more and more, the 
 grass grown green, and the flowers sprung 
 up in the garden-beds, it appeared as if there were 
 some mystery in the Osborne household. Jack 
 Osborne was often at Lakeside Hill, generally shut 
 up with Colonel Dalton, and Fanny, when she came 
 too, often looked too sober for her merry self. As 
 for Jack, he seemed so grave, and wholly "grown 
 up," that the children felt shrewd Prissy had been 
 ri°kt when she said "Mr. Jack was settling down 
 a bit." 
 
 At last Geoffrey's curiosity quite overcame his 
 discretion, and one day when cousin Jack had been 
 closeted, for an unusual time, with Colonel Dalton, 
 he attacked him with a battery of questions as soon 
 as he showed himself in the parlor. 
 
 "Cousin Jack, I want to know, please, what's 
 
228 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 going on _ w hat are you going to do? We all 
 know there's a secret, and that is why you are so 
 sober and poky nowadays. Won't you please tell 
 me what it is?" 
 
 "Geoffrey," said cousin Jack, "I've got a new 
 verse for your Nonsense Book ; " and thereupon he 
 gravely recited the following doggerel : 
 
 There was a young man of the city 
 
 Who would go to the war — more's the pity. 
 
 When he looked at his gun, 
 
 " I hope I shan't run ! " 
 
 Said this valiant young man from the city. 
 
 When to battle he got, 
 
 Some stray, cursory shot 
 
 Carried off his leg the first day. 
 
 " Not much matter, I guess ; 
 
 So much danger the less," 
 
 Said he ; coolly, " of running away ! " 
 
 Geoffrey laughed. 
 
 ff O, Jack," said Fanny, her eyes filling with tears, 
 "bow can you say such horrid things, and laugh, 
 when we feel so badly about your going away." 
 
 "O, arc you going to the war, really? " cried Bob. 
 
 "I am," said Jack, with a glance at Guy, "if 
 Colonel Dalton will take me for one of his second 
 lieutenants." 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 229 
 
 And so the secret was out, and Fanny told, be- 
 tween smiles and tears, that Jack had been studying 
 tactics for a year, and had begged papa so hard to 
 let him go to the war, that he had yielded at last, 
 and it was all settled. 
 
 By the time the white tents dotted the green fields 
 of Wrighton, Lakeside Hill itself had become a sort 
 of domestic camp. Nothing was heard except talk 
 of soldiers and the war ; every afternoon some mem- 
 bers of the household drove over to the camp for the 
 dress parade, and Guy and Jack were the all-absorb- 
 ing thought in every one's mind, while under the 
 faces that tried so hard to look brave and cheerful 
 there sometimes lurked sad, heavy hearts. 
 
 Fanny Osborne was very often at Lakeside Hill, 
 now that her brother was in camp, and she and Lillie 
 were much drawn together in their common feeling 
 for their brothers. As the little maidens sat to- 
 gether, makinsr needle-cases, slippers, all sorts of 
 comforts or keepsakes for the soldiers, Fanny often 
 looked at Lillie, and wondered if she were indeed the 
 same peevish, spoiled child she had seen so little 
 while ago as last Thanksgiving. Talks with Guy, 
 Sue's influence, and a loving home atmosphere had 
 
230 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 done wonders for Lillie, and Fanny secretly wished 
 she could wear as brave a front as her little compan- 
 ion, when she thought of the approaching departure 
 of that regiment in which both were so interested. 
 
 But one morning, when the stay at camp was num- 
 bered only by days, cousin Sue, coming suddenly on 
 the little seamstresses, found tell-tale tears on the 
 cheeks of both. 
 
 "What," said she, in her sweet, playful tone, 
 putting her hands on Fanny's shoulders, "I thought 
 we agreed to have only smiles at Lakeside Hill camp. 
 The women of the Eevolution, you know, never- 
 thought that tears mended matters." 
 
 "Ah, cousin Sue," said Lillie, quickly, dashing 
 away her tears as she spoke, "it isn't to you what it 
 is to Fanny and me ; you can't know how hard it is 
 to have one's brother go to the war ! " 
 
 ff I can guess, my dear," said Sue, gently, and 
 quietly left the room, without a word more. Lillie 
 had spoken too impulsively to notice the effect of her 
 words, but Bob, who was in the room, raised his 
 eyes to Sue's face. He was startled to see how 
 pale and sad she looked, in spite of the sweet smile 
 on her lip; and a little thought darted into his mind, 
 which be wouldn't have told to any one. 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 231 
 
 Bob had grown graver and more thoughtful during 
 theso last weeks; he went out to base ball iu Ins old 
 wav , when his frequent expeditions to the camp gave 
 mra time, but he was not quite his old, merry self, 
 even with a bat in his hand, and Jimmie heard no 
 more nonsense about balloon trips to China Bob 
 * M as affectionate and loving as he was proud, and 
 the difference grandpapa showed in his treatment 
 of Arthur and of himself grieved him scarcely less 
 than the unjust distrust of his honesty wounded 
 
 him. . ii 
 
 Arthur had been at home for some time now, to all 
 appearance as merry and light-hearted as ever ; he 
 said not a word of what had passed between them, 
 and if Bob ever caught himself looking at htt brother, 
 Wondering how he could help divining his duress 
 and aiding him by manfully confessing his own fault 
 he reproached himself for it the next minute. If 
 Arthur did not notice the difference in Bob, other 
 people did; though the elder ones thought it better 
 Lay nothing. But Lillie, the perverse little maiden, 
 took up the cudgels for the - rough, glum boy. 
 
 "Grandpapa," said she, perching herself on the 
 arm of his chair (she had called him grandpapa for a 
 
232 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 long time now), "grandpapa, why do you treat 
 poor Bob so?" 
 
 Lillie was a privileged person, for Mr. Osborne 
 delighted in her pretty, coaxing little ways, and 
 even in her sauciness sometimes. 80 he only said, 
 good-naturedly, "'Poor Bob/' What's that for, 
 I'd like to know, Miss Lillie? I saw 'poor Bob' 
 going off with his base-ball bat just now, as if not 
 very much was the matter." 
 
 "I know— just now," said Lillie. "But, grand- 
 papa, he looks very unhappy sometimes, and you 
 are so hard and cold with him ! Has he done any- 
 thing wrong? What has he done?" 
 
 "That's just what I don't know, and want to find 
 out," said grandpapa, knitting his brows. 
 
 "I'm sure," said Lillie, with great spirit, "it isn't 
 anything that deserves being treated as if everybody 
 hated him." 
 
 "Tut, tut!" said Mr. Osborne. "I'm the best 
 judge about that, little lady. You may be sure 
 Master Bob is treated as well as he deserves." 
 
 And Lillie was wise enough to know now that 
 she had said enough. 
 
 However, she only changed her point of attack, 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 233 
 
 and next assailed Arthur. "Do you know, Arthur," 
 said she, when they happened to be alone together, 
 "what Bob's secret is? why he looks so unhappy, 
 I mean." 
 
 *No; does he?" said Arthur, changing color. 
 " I didn't notice that he was different from usual." 
 
 " Dear me !" said Lillie, with a little impatient 
 toss of her head. " What is the good of having 
 eyes, Arthur, if you can't see with them? Every- 
 body else knows there's something the matter with 
 Bob." 
 
 "Did he tell you so?" asked Arthur, looking 
 alarmed. "Did he say anything about a secret?" 
 
 Lillie shook her head, and ran off, feeling for once 
 quite vexed with Arthur. As for that young gentle- 
 man, I suppose he would have been very indignant 
 had any one called him selfish ; he really had not 
 noticed any change in Bob. But some people, 
 without knowing it, have both eyes and thoughts S6 
 filled w ith themselves, that they are blind to others^ 
 faces, and think there can be no secrets or sorrows 
 save those which are their own peculiar affair. 
 
 I will not describe all that went on at the camp 
 at Wrighton during the weeks Colonel Dalton's 
 
234 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 regiment spent there. There is always an air t4 
 gayety and brilliancy about every camp, and Guy, 
 as colonel of the regiment, was often obliged to take 
 the lead in festivities he really had not much heart 
 /or. Suffice it to say that Lillie might have had her 
 head turned, if she had chosen, so much was made 
 of her as the colonel's little sister. The four boys 
 were as well known at Wrighton as if they had 
 been officers themselves ; and how Bob's heart 
 burned within him as he looked with a sort of per- 
 sonal pride on Guy's men and Guy's belongings ! 
 How he longed to be in Jack Osborne's place ! As 
 for Geoffrey, he was so won over by the gay pagean- 
 try of the dress parade, that he began to think seri- 
 ously of changing his future air-castle career from 
 the navy to the army. 
 
 I must remember that good-by is to be a prohib- 
 ited word in this story, or I shall find myself, before 
 I know it, writing about parting words and fore- 
 wells. Without saying too much about it, then, 
 it was within a day or two of the departure of the 
 — Regiment, when something astonishing took place 
 at Lakeside Hill. 
 
 Geoffrey, feeling very low-spirited and out of 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WATl. 
 
 235 
 
 sorts, in accordance with the prevailing tone of the 
 family, but being very unwilling to be seen with red 
 eyes, or symptoms of unmanly emotion, had, on this 
 particular afternoon, betaken himself to a retreat 
 beneath the parlor sofa, where he could indulge his 
 grief unseen, or console himself with Flossy, grand- 
 mamma's soft, white, curly spaniel. I think, as the 
 shadows came on, and it began to grow dark under 
 the sofa, that Geoffrey must have cried himself to 
 sleep, for he came to himself suddenly, with a 
 drowsy sense that somebody was talking above him. 
 
 "I did not mean to say all this to you," said one 
 voice. ? 'I had even resolved that I would not let 
 myself speak of it to you — but what has become 
 of my resolution? It seems so selfish, Sue, to try 
 to tie up your future, just at this last moment, to 
 such an uncertainty as a soldier's fate must be ! " 
 
 "I do not complain of the hardship," said the 
 other voice, as if the speaker had looked up with 
 the brightest and sweetest of smiles in saying it. 
 
 "So selfish," went on the first speaker, as if he 
 had not heard the little exclamation, " to bring on 
 your head all the anxiety for my future which must 
 come to you now that our lives are henceforth to 
 
236 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 be bound up together! I am almost ready to ask 
 your forgiveness, Sue, for telling you that I loved 
 you." 
 
 "You needn't," said Sue, in a very low, happy 
 
 tone. "You foolish Guy, do you suppose V 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 "That I shouldn't have been just as anxious for 
 you if— if you hadn't told me so?" 
 
 There was a little pause, and then Guy said, — 
 
 "I am half tempted, Sue, to say that I think, for 
 the present, since I have said what I couldn't help 
 saying, it had better be kept a secret — known to 
 no one but ourselves." 
 
 Seemingly from under the speaker came an ex- 
 clamation, in a voice wherein laughing and crying 
 were singularly mixed up. 
 
 "You can't— you can't keep it a secret — I know 
 it too ! O, cousin Sue, I am very sorry, but I've 
 heard all you've been saying ! " 
 
 The colonel and Sue had both sprung up at the 
 first word; and now, from under the sofa, appeared 
 the head of Geoffrey, his red eyes and tear-stained 
 cheeks plainly betraying lm recent want of manli- 
 ness, while a very contradictory, roguish smilo 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 237 
 
 GEOFFREY WAKES UP. 
 
 played in and out of his dimples. It was a funny 
 picture, as he looked up at the colonel with an 
 air half contrite, half mischievous. 
 
 MThy, how's this?" said the colonel. "What 
 were you doing there, Geoffrey?" 
 
 "I was asleep, 9 ' said Geoffrey, looking rather 
 abashed; "and then I waked up, and heard all you 
 said. And, O, Colonel Dalton ! " his excitement 
 
238 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 suddenly overcoming his slight timidity, as he 
 crawled out from his hiding-place, "is it really true, 
 and are you going to be engaged to cousin Sue? 
 O, won't you please come right off, and tell grand- 
 papa and the rest? I know I shall let it out right 
 off if you don't." 
 
 Guy looked at Sue, who was still blushing very 
 much ; but Geoffrey's funny agitation was too droll 
 for either displeasure or embarrassment to resist. 
 All three burst into a hearty laugh, and this very 
 serious matter had a very comical ending. 
 
 "Well, well," said Guy, "since this young eaves- 
 dropper will not even promise to keep our secret, 
 let us go at once and confess it ourselves." 
 
 And accordingly the occupants of the library 
 were startled by the entrance of Colonel Dalton, 
 looking very proud and happy, cousin Sue looking 
 very pretty, and covered with blushes, and Geof- 
 frey bringing up the rear, his chubby face wreathed 
 with roguish smiles. 
 
 "Mr. Osborne," said Guy, "you owe it to this 
 naughty boy, who has been playing the part of a 
 very unwelcome third, that you hear now what was 
 meant to be a very great secret for some time to 
 come." 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 23ft 
 
 Lillie did not hear much more than that, lor, 
 with a perfect intuition of what was coming, and a 
 strange uncertainty as to the nature of her own 
 feelings in consequence, she fled to the entry for 
 a moment's self-examination. There she ran against 
 Bob, whose face literally shone with delight. 
 "Well, Lillie!" said he, joyfully. 
 " Well," said Lillie, hardly knowing whether she 
 spoke in jest or earnest, "did I not tell you, Bob, 
 that she would get my brother away from me?" 
 
 "Nonsense!" said Bob; "you can't humbug me, 
 Lillie ! I know you are feeling, just as I am, that 
 it seems too good to be true that just when Colonel 
 Dalton goes away, he should leave us something 
 that really belongs to him, as cousin Sue does now. 
 Why, I shall care twice as much for her as I did 
 before — for herself and for him, too, you know." 
 
 "Bob, you are a dear, good boy!" said Lillie; 
 and, thereupon, she suddenly discovered that, strange 
 as it may seem after her feelings a few minutes 
 before, she was delighted too. So when Guy in- 
 terrupted the joyful congratulations of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Osborne, to say, a little anxiously, « But where is 
 Lillie?" a little voice replied at his elbow, "Here 
 
BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 she is, Guitlie — so glad and so happy, sister 
 Sue ! " 
 
 Sue blushed more than ever at that name, and 
 Colonel Dalton looked as if only that had been 
 wanted to make his happiness quite complete. 
 
 On the last afternoon, after dress parade, the 
 officers of the regiment had a collation for their 
 friends, and of course Guy, as the colonel of the 
 regiment, was expected to be foremost in the hos- 
 pitalities. No words can tell how both he and the 
 family at Lakeside Hill dreaded it. How hard 
 to go about smiling, when you feel so very much 
 more like crying! But, since it must be done, 
 everybody resolved to go through it bravely, and 
 all the good bys were said, all the parting tears 
 shed, before they went to the camp, and in that 
 little hour of the morning when Guy and Jack 
 rode over to Lakeville. So I can very easily leave 
 them out of my story, and you can imagine them 
 f>r yourselves. It was a very miserable merry- 
 making to the Osbornes and Stanleys, and to poor 
 little Lillie — nay, I am afraid, to every one who 
 had a brother, a son, or a dear friend among those 
 soldiers; but it was over at last, and the carriages* 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 241 
 
 were driving home. There was no longer need for 
 swallowing down tears or forcing smiles. 
 
 How dreary and empty the pleasant house seemed 
 when they got back to it — the windows standing 
 open to let in the warm, sunny air, the flowers 
 blooming so brightly in the garden, and the sunset 
 clouds flushing red, purple, and golden, while but 
 two miles away were a thousand men going per- 
 haps to death, and in this bright world lurked the 
 dark monster, War ! 
 
 Bob had been very wretched all the afternoon ; 
 and now he sat out on the steps long after uncle 
 John and aunt Kitty had driven away with Fanny 
 and Charley, feeling, half unconsciously, that sorrow 
 seemed just so much the harder because the sun 
 shone and the world looked so love! v. He got 
 up, and went into the house, wandered aimlessly 
 round the darkening hall, and finally sat down on 
 the broad oak staircase. He could hear Lillie 
 sobbing overhead, and Sue's voice, brave and cheer- 
 ful even now, trying to comfort her. Jimrsie and 
 Geoffrey were with grandmamma, and there was 
 no one at hand to say a word to Bob. He rested 
 his head on his folded arms, hiding his face on the 
 16 
 
242 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 stair. Up the staircase came Arthur, almost stum- 
 bling over him in the growing twilight. 
 
 "O, is it you? What are you doing here, Bob?" 
 
 "Nothing," said poor Bob, in the most wretched 
 of tones. 
 
 Now Arthur could not bear to see people melan- 
 choly, and the mournful atmosphere of the house 
 had already given him a nervous, annoyed feeling. 
 So his tone was sharper than he meant it to be, 
 as he said, — 
 
 R What's the use of being so doleful, Bob? 
 You're enough to give a fellow the blues lately. 
 I don't know what to make of you." 
 
 ff I think one miofht be excused for being a 
 little doleful to-night," said Bob, with his face 
 still hidden on the stair. 
 
 "I don't know — it doesn't help any one, that 
 I can see. But, Bob, I've been meaning to speak 
 to you about your way of going on lately. You 
 go about with such a long face, that anybody can 
 see you have some secret, and it isn't two days 
 since Lillie Dalton asked me what was the matter 
 with you. If you don't take care, people will begin 
 to suspect my affair, and though you think you 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 243 
 
 did me such a favor in getting me that money, 
 I can tell you I shan't thank you for it if you 
 let out my secret now ! " And so Arthur passed 
 on, and went up stairs. 
 
 He had not meant to be cruel, but his unkind 
 words had been like sharp knives to poor Bob. 
 It had made him wretched before, to think that 
 he must lose his one friend just when he needed 
 him so much; but to have Arthur, for whose sake 
 he had gone through all that he had, blame him 
 for betraying what he was suffering for keeping 
 to himself, — no, he could not bear that! 
 
 " And I won't bear it ! " said he, suddenly spring- 
 ing up; "I "can't stay here to be treated as I 
 am ! I will go to Guy. I can't let him go with- 
 out me, and I will tell him so ! " 
 
 Bob was in one of his excited, passionate moods, 
 and almost before he knew where he was, he was 
 rushing along the dark road towards the camp. 
 Where was he going? He hardly stopped to think; 
 his only idea was to get to Guy, tell him that 
 he couldn't stay there any longer now he had gone, 
 beg him to take him with him as a drummer-boy, 
 anything, no matter what, so long as he could be 
 
244 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 with the one person who understood and cared for 
 him ! Such were Bob's impulsive, excited thoughts. 
 
 The distance to Wrighton was scarcely two miles, 
 and Bob could never have told how he got over the 
 ground. It seemed hardly a minute between the 
 time when he had sprung up from the stair and 
 the time when he found himself standing outside 
 the colonel's tent, looking wistfully in. Guy was 
 sitting quite alone, looking as if he had dropped 
 down there for a moment's rest and peace, after the 
 exertions of the weary day, and on his face, almost 
 stern in its gravity, was the first shade of sadness 
 Bob had seen there since he talked of going back 
 to the Avar. One could see, at a glance, that it 
 all rose before the soldier — the picture of what he 
 had left here — his home, Sue, his loved ones — all. 
 
 It was like a dream; the boy could not have told 
 how anything happened that night, but he found 
 himself all at once in Colonel Daltoirs arms, where 
 he had thrown himself, sobbing out, "Take me with 
 you ! O, Guy, dear Guy, don't leave me behind ! " 
 
 Guy was startled, — it had all been so sudden, — 
 but his voice was so calm that it seemed to quiet 
 Bob's fluttering nerves, as he said, "My boy, how 
 -id you <ret here ? " 
 
"Take me with you ! O Guy, dear Guy, don't leave me be- 
 hind ! " — Page 244. 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE ANT) WAR. 
 
 215 
 
 "I came!" said Bob. "Indeed, I don't knoll 
 myself — I felt as if I must — O, Guy! only say 
 you will let me go with you ! " 
 
 "How could you go, Bob?" said Guy, still very 
 quietly. 
 
 "Why, I could be a drummer-boy," said Bob. 
 « I could be anything, no matter what. Anything 
 would be better than staying here, where nobody 
 wants me, or cares for me, and everybody blames 
 me for things I've never done ! " 
 
 Colonel Dalton sat still for a minufe, holding Bob 
 closely pressed to him. Presently he said, "Bob, 
 you don't want to make this going off harder for 
 me than it need be — do you?" 
 
 "Is it likely," said Bob, "that I should want to 
 make anything hard to you?" 
 
 "Then listen quietly, while I talk to you. Sup- 
 pose, Bob, that when we get into the very thick 
 of the battle, — my men and I, —we should sud- 
 denly exclaim that we couldn't stand it, and so 
 run away. We should be brave soldiers — shouldn't 
 we?" 
 
 "Very," said Bob, half laughing. "But, Guy, 
 don't say such things of me, for I know that is what 
 
246 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 you mean. It is not running away from any battle 
 — it seems easier to me to go into the very thickest 
 of the real fight, be wounded, lose my leg or my 
 arm even, and feel that I am in the right place, 
 doiug something, than just stay quietly here. ■ How 
 is that running away?" 
 
 "A great many of us could say that anything 
 seemed easier to us than just the thing we were set 
 to do," said Colonel Dalton. "Our battles must be 
 just where we are put to fight them, and just that 
 place, Bob, no other, is the 'right place' for us. 
 You think it would be doing something — some- 
 thing brave — to go off in this way — do you? 
 Now I call it turning one's back on what one is 
 called to suffer, and saying, weakly, f I can't 
 bear it ! ' " 
 
 "Don't say so to me," said Bob, drearily. "It 
 is all so hard for me!" 
 
 "Not only for you, Bob," said Guy, suddenly 
 losing his calmness, and speaking hurriedly and 
 vehemently. "Is it not hard for all of us to go off 
 and do our duty bravely, when we leave so much 
 behind us? Is it not hard for me, do you think, 
 to leave all I have left? Is it not hard even for me 
 
ABOUT BOTH LOVE AND WAR. 
 
 247 
 
 to send you away from me now, and to have another 
 parting over again?" 
 
 "And I have made it harder, then," said Bob, 
 sadly. w O, Guy, I did not mean to." 
 
 "I know, my boy; and you will not any longer, 
 I am sure. What could you do, dear Bob, or what 
 could I do with you, if you were to go with me, as 
 you wish? Ah, my boy, war has enough dangers 
 and responsibilities of its own, without our making 
 new ones." 
 
 "Forgive me," said Bob. "Don't say any more; 
 indeed I will go back." 
 
 " There's my dear, brave boy ! " said the colonel ; 
 and putting his arms round Bob, he held him for 
 a moment closely pressed to his breast. 
 
 " Now go," he whispered. " I have staid here, by 
 myself, long enough. I shall not forget you and 
 your battles while I am fighting my own. Stay a 
 minute. Would it help you if I gave you some- 
 thing of mine to remind you that you haven't lost 
 your friend, even when things seem darkest?" 
 
 « O ! — " said Bob. He did not finish the sen- 
 tence. 
 
 "Then take this little seal," said Guy, unfasten- 
 
248 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 ing it from his chain. "I have worn it ever sin.e 
 I was a boy, and if you ever feel very lonely and 
 sad, look at the motto, and be sure I am thinking 
 of you. And, Bob," lowering his voice, "if you 
 should ever hear that anything had happened to 
 me, I should like you to give the seal to Sue, and 
 tell her to think that those are the words I would 
 have said to her myself. Be all you can, clear boy, 
 to her and to Lillie. I can't say any more. God 
 bless you ! " 
 
 "And you!" sobbed Bob. 
 
 The next minute he was running again over the 
 same road he had seemed to fly over half an hour 
 before. The moon struggled through the thick 
 clouds, and lighted up the way. He looked at his 
 precious seal, which he had held till now tightly 
 pressed in his hand. The moonbeams shone full 
 upon it : it was only a very plain little gold seal, 
 in the form of an anchor, and on it were the words 
 " iSursum corda/"* 
 
 * lAft up your hearts — look above. 
 
ROCKEDGE. 
 
 — Geoffrey's adventure. 
 
 249 
 
 CHAPTER XIV, 
 
 ROCKEDGE. — GEOFFREY'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 OCKEDGE, where the Osbornes always spent 
 1 tw T o or three of the hottest months of the 
 
 year, was a little sea-side place, as yet uninvaded by 
 fashionable people, hotels, or shoddy gentility. It 
 was a quiet little nook, with just neighbors enough 
 to redeem . it from loneliness, where people could 
 go about all day if they chose, in boating-suits or 
 flannel shirts ; could go out to drive in family carry- 
 alls, without having dust from a dozen barouches 
 whirled in their eyes ; where, in short, they could 
 go to enjoy the sea in their own fashion, — bathing, 
 fishing, sailing, sitting on the rocks, get thoroughly 
 rested, if they needed rest and change, plenty of 
 sea-air and sea-sicle appetite, if that was what they 
 went for. Grandpapa had a house there, and Mr 
 Stanley always spent his short summer vacation 
 there, declaring there never was a place like Rock- 
 
250 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 edge for curing a hard- worked winter's fatigue ; so 
 the', to the boys, it was a second home. It was a 
 plain, unpretending house, big enough to hold them 
 all, with nothing remarkable about it except the 
 splendid sea view, — it stood high, and one could 
 hear and see the waves rolling in all day long, — 
 and its wide breezy piazza, strewn with straw chairs 
 for sitters, hung with hammocks for lazy swingers; 
 just the place, in short, for a healthy, happy 
 home-life. 
 
 From one side of the piazza could be seen the 
 white sandy beach, where the boys rowed off in 
 their dories, and the bathing-house from which the 
 young people emerged daily, in flannel bathiug- 
 suits, a merry crowd. From another side (for the 
 house stood, as it were, on a promontory, jutting 
 out into the sea) could be seen the high rock cliffs, 
 full of clefts, and shady seats, and lookouts into the 
 white-capped ocean. Among these rocks, the little 
 Stanleys had spent many of their happiest hours at 
 Kockcdgc; for in their recesses was one of their 
 favorite haunts. They were the perfection of rocks, 
 full of unexpected nooks and crannies, washed by 
 the waves into fantastic forms. You went down 
 
ROCKEDGE. — GEOFFREY'S ADVENTURE. 251 
 
 the steep bank by a crumbling path, little stones 
 rolling down behind you, and there, just this side 
 of the high-water mark, you came suddenly on a 
 little cave, in a lofty, beetling crag. At its mouth 
 was a smooth strip of snowy sand, on which the 
 waves broke gently, after spending their strength 
 on the sea-weedy rocks beyond. The floor of the 
 cave was of this same sparkling sand, and in its soft 
 sides was more than one natural arm-chair in the 
 rock. Just outside, a little fresh- water spring, clear 
 and cold as ice, gurgled out from the stone wall, 
 while, as an offset to that, in the middle of the 
 cave's sandy floor was a salt pool, — a natural 
 rock-bottomed aquarium, — from which a tiny rill 
 ran down to the sea. 
 
 Such were the natural advantages of the cave ; 
 and as it had been, for years, the favorite haunt 
 of the children when at Rockedge, you may be 
 sure it had not wanted for improvements at their 
 hands. They had constructed, at one side, a couch 
 of stones, with cushions stuffed with sea-weed* so 
 as to be in keeping with the aquatic character of the 
 place. With infinite labor, Arthur and Bob had 
 adorned the walls with shells — shells from far 
 
252 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 countries, which had somehow found their way into 
 the family, and been put to this use, or shells which 
 they had themselves picked up on the beach; it 
 didn't matter: from great pink-lined music-shells 
 to common oysters, there they all were, firmly 
 plastered against the wall. The aquarium had been 
 stocked, from time to time, with all sorts of ma- 
 rine treasures, — sea-anemones, crabs, star-fish, sea- 
 weeds, and mosses, — so that it was quite a little 
 lesson in natural history to the younger members 
 of the family. A little way off, among the rocks, 
 the boys had built a stone fireplace, and on very 
 festive occasions they built a fire there, and had a 
 picnic party, making a point of boiling no other 
 water for cooking purposes than that from the spring. 
 I suppose, in the winter storms, the great waves 
 washed into this cave sometimes, and that was the 
 secret of the little aquarium ; but that was in winter, 
 when the sea-weed cushions had been carried up to 
 the house, and the boys were far away from Rock- 
 edgc. In summer no more delieiously-cool retreat 
 could be imagined, and its very name, cut by the 
 boys in the rock, over tlie mouth of the cave, was 
 an invitation, in the burning heat of an August sun 
 — " Cave Conines*:' 
 
ROCKEDGE. 
 
 — Geoffrey's adventure. 253 
 
 What merry times they had had there, fitting up 
 their rocky cavern into a palace of perfection, play- 
 ing Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday, or pas- 
 sages from any of the numerous cave stories they 
 had read in wonderful juveniles ! What long, quiet 
 mornings tfiey had passed there, when cousin Sue, 
 or even grandmamma and Mrs. Stanley, sat there 
 with their work, reading aloud and telling stories, 
 or Mr. Stanley lay on the sofa, and preached his 
 little sermons to the children, getting his text out 
 of the rock-pool at his feet. But if I begin, I might 
 go on forever telling the delights of the place, and 
 not exhausting them. 
 
 In "Cave Coolness," then, one sultry July morn- 
 ing, cousin Sue was sitting with Lillie, Jimmie, and 
 Geoffrey. The Osbornes had come down to Rock- 
 edge in time to escape the noise of the ff Glorious 
 Fourth," in the neighborhood of Boston, and this 
 summer, like all summers here, was a happy one. 
 True, there was the anxiety still — the great anxiety 
 of the war, I mean: there were the papers to be 
 daily watched for, and read; the precious war- 
 letters Sue and Lillie walked to the post-office, so 
 untiringly, to get. But if there was anxiety, there 
 
254 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 was none of the restless, fretful complaining thd 
 is so wearing to other people, and so destructive 
 of general peace and comfort. Sue Osborne was a 
 sunbeam. If she felt unhappy at heart, she always 
 had a smile, or a cheerful word, for other people. 
 Cheerfulness was a duty with her ; she never moped, 
 or sat languid and listless. Work she must have, 
 and as Jimmie and Geoffrey had vacation, so that 
 she no longer had their lessons for occupation, she 
 used to go, twice a week, to Boston, to work at 
 the Sanitary Rooms, coming back the fresher and 
 brighter for it. She would tell Lillie what they 
 did there for the soldiers, what cutting and packing 
 went on, and how happy it made her to see just 
 what the soldiers were to have, till one day Lillie 
 came to her wistfully, just as she was starting, and 
 said, shyly, — 
 
 "Couldn't I go, too, sister Sue?" (She always 
 called her so now.) "I think I could do some- 
 thing, if you showed me how." 
 
 "Indeed you could, Lillie," said Sue, warmly. 
 "Should you really like it, dear?" 
 
 "I should feci as if I were doing something for 
 Guy," whispered Lillie, squeezing Sue's band light, 
 
ROCKEDGE. — 
 
 Geoffrey's adventure. 255 
 
 to keep back her own tears. And so the two went 
 together. 
 
 But besides her happiness in her work, Sue had, 
 apparently, plenty of bright interest to give to her 
 little cousins' pleasures, and as she sits there in the 
 Cave, this morning, in her pretty pink morning 
 dress, her cheeks are as rosy, and her smile as 
 sunny, as if there w 7 ere no w r ar in the world. Geof- 
 frey, whose especial delight is in all matters pertain- 
 ing to the sea, and who is, accordingly, the chief 
 maintainer of the aquarium, has been teasing her 
 for a story about one of the denizens of the pool ; 
 for Sue has a pretty little way of telling impromptu 
 fanciful stories about every-day matters. 
 
 "And so," said she, seemingly just at the end of 
 her story, as we enter "Cave Coolness," "King 
 Barnacle decided to return to his rock, and his safe 
 little shell, which, though some people might call 
 it a prison, was nevertheless a protection. He 
 had found the great kingdom of the sea a very un- 
 comfortable place for barnacles out of their sphere 
 and their shells, and henceforth he resolved to be 
 satisfied with the peep he got of the wide w 7 orld, 
 when the high tide rushed up and leaped on the 
 
256 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 rocks, and all the barnacles opened their shells, to 
 get the refreshing spray, after their long baking i„ 
 the sun.. So there you may find him to this day, 
 on that great rock farthest out, in the colony of 
 his brother kings, for every barnacle, you know, h 
 monarch of his own shell." 
 
 "Cousin Sue's story," said Arthur, appearing at 
 the mouth of the cave, "seems to be founded ou 
 the old idea of, 'It is better to be king in a coal- 
 hole than page in a palace.' " 
 
 "Now, I think," said Bob, "that cousin Sue means 
 to console people who can't be just what they want, 
 by saying that they'd better be successful in small 
 things, rather than very poor imitations of hi* 
 ones." 
 
 " Now, it is too bad of you big boys to listen to 
 me," said Sue, laughing and blushing, "and then 
 pick my poor little story to pieces. It was only 
 meant for my pupils." 
 
 "And you didn't hear the first part, Arthur," 
 said Geoffrey. "It was so nice, when, at the first 
 sound of the tide coming back, all the shell-fish 
 lifted up their shells, and little King Barnacle 
 slipped out on the fish's back so cleverly! 1 
 
ROCK EDGE. GEOFFREY'S ADVENTURE. 257 
 
 should like to be out on that rock some time just 
 when the tide turned." 
 
 , " Well, come in to lunch now," said Arthur; * we 
 came to call you." 
 
 Steve Lenox had been staying at Rookedge for the 
 last few days, the little boys considering his presence 
 a "great bore," and Bob secretly agreeing with them. 
 Arthur seemed very happy in his friend's society, 
 though, at times, a little constrained. Mr. Osborne 
 had not said much about the guest ; but, if the truth 
 must be told, his first enthusiasm for Steve was cool- 
 ing down a little on nearer acquaintance. 
 
 After lunch, Geoffrey sat out on one side of the 
 piazza, whittling away at a thole-pin, and wishing 
 very much that he could get rid of his shell like King 
 Barnacle, suddenly shoot up into a man, and go off 
 to see some of the wonderful countries he sometimes 
 dreamed about. Round the corner of the house, 
 Arthur and Steve were lazily swinging in the ham- 
 mocks, and chatting together. 
 
 "By the way, Arty," said Steve, suddenly, "how 
 did old Digby get hold of that box of Bob's? or, 
 rather, what made Bob sell it? It seemed such a 
 mean thing to do ! " 
 
 17 
 
258 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "Bob's box — his mathematical instruments, do 
 you mean?" exclaimed Arthur. " I didn't know any- 
 thing about it. How did you know the box was 
 Bob's?" 
 
 "By the evidence of eyesight," said Steve. "Be- 
 sides, I said so to Digby, and he couldn't deny it. 
 So Master Bob has his little scrapes on the sly — 
 does he? I always mistrust these very honorable 
 fellows." 
 
 " You needn't mistrust Bob," said Arthur, with 
 some warmth; "I'm sure I don't know what he 
 wanted the money for, unless — " 
 
 He stopped short, suddenly remembering the 
 twenty dollars Bob had given him. But his expres- 
 sion quite finished the sentence for Steve. 
 
 "Unless for you, eh?" said he, with a laugh. 
 "How could I be so slow in putting two and two 
 together ! Well, well, if Bob likes to be fool enough 
 1° pay your debts for you, I suppose I needn't com- 
 plain. Do you think he had enough with that first 
 one, or would he like to undertake the other little 
 obligation? " 
 
 "Hush, Steve, do!" said Arthur, hurriedly. 
 "Somebody might hear." 
 
HOCKEDGE. 
 
 Geoffrey's ADVENTURE. 
 
 259 
 
 And Steve, with a light laugh, changed the sub- 
 ject ; not, however, before the little whittler round 
 the corner of the house had entirely understood the 
 drift of the conversation. 
 
 "Where is Geoffrey?" said grandmamma, about 
 half an hour after dinner. 
 
 Where, indeed ! When children, and particularly 
 boys, are very quiet, they are generally acknowl- 
 edged to be in some mischief ; but this was a step 
 beyond mischief. 
 
 Geoffrey, as perhaps you have already discovered, 
 was of an inquiring mind : he liked to have a finger 
 in every pie, an ear in every conversation, an eye in 
 everything that could be seen. He was daring and 
 venturesome, and a spice of adventure was an irre- 
 sistible temptation to him. For another thing, he 
 always wished to see for himself everything he heard 
 described, and cousin Sue's story about King Barna- 
 cle had inspired in him the desire to see the barnacles 
 all lift their shells, as high tide came in. Without 
 stopping to consider the decidedly fabulous nature of 
 Sue's story, he took it for granted that, as she had 
 located the colony on the farthest rock in sight from 
 
260 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 the cave, there it was to be found, and there he must 
 bend his steps forthwith. He had, indeed, openly 
 expressed this wish, but at a time when everybody 
 was absorbed in talking, and had not heard him ; 
 and with an intuitive idea that obstacles might be 
 raised, he did not communicate his intentions even 
 to his twin. 
 
 At low water, just before the tide turned, he left 
 the house alone, and quietly stole down the bank to 
 the little strip of sand in front of "Cave Coolness." 
 At low water, all the rocks over which the waves 
 dashed, white and foaming, when the tide was at the 
 full, lay bare, fringed with sea-weed, and very slip- 
 pery to foot passengers. But Geoffrey climbed over 
 them, stopping, now and then, to pick up a tempting 
 shell, caught in the sea-weed, or jumping over the 
 little salt pools with great relish of his adventure. 
 
 Some distance out, the last of the reef of rocks 
 binding the coast just here was a very large rock, 
 called by the boys "Big Outsider." It was their 
 boundary for low-water mark; for, never quite cov- 
 ered by the waves, it towered up at ebb-tide like a 
 fortress, the side towards the land shaggy with 
 brown sea-weed, while the waves broke low down 
 
KOCKEDGE. — GEOFFREY'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 against the foot on the side that fronted the sea. 
 The elder boys had once been there to fish, but it 
 was generally regarded as a dangerous place, for the 
 waves came up so quickly, after the tide once turned, 
 that return by the way he had come was very soon cut 
 off for the unwary adventurer. So the youngsters 
 were warned off, and had never been there as yet. 
 
 This afternoon, however, Master Geoffrey chose to 
 go, saying easily to himself, "Of course I can get 
 back quick enough, if I only keep my wits about me." 
 
 Jumping from rock to rock, and now and again 
 getting a wet foot from a slip on the treacherous sea- 
 weed, went heedless Geoffrey, whistling and singing 
 to himself. The big rock reached, the first question 
 was to scale it, and this, by dint of using the sea- 
 weed as a pulley, and his knees as grappling-irons, 
 Geoffrey at last effected. Here he was, on top of the 
 landmark he had so often surveyed with longing 
 eyes, and as soon as its exact dimensions had been 
 ascertained by walking round it and counting the 
 *teps, the barnacles must be sought for. Yes, there 
 they were, a white line, firmly nailed to the rock ; 
 but, alas ! how far above the waves that washed the 
 foot of "Big Outsider! " 
 
262 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "There's nothing to do, then, but wait patiently 
 till the water comes up to them," said Geoffrey to 
 himself; and this thought quite banishing from his 
 mind the recollection that. the water would come up 
 on the other side too, he lay flat down on his face, 
 his head over the edge, that he might observe the 
 progress of the waves, and be sure of witnessing the 
 first movement of the barnacles. 
 
 A long time passed, and still Geoffrey lay there, 
 for he had a goodly share of persistency, and was 
 not fond of being beaten in his undertakings. The 
 waves had not reached the colony of barnacles yet, 
 but they had been slowly and surely creeping up and 
 round the rocks, while, had the little watcher but 
 turned his head, he would have noted, with some 
 alarm, the gradual disappearance of some of the 
 stones he had climbed over a little while before. He 
 did not look round, however, till a flock of sea- 
 gulls, screaming above his head, made him raise his 
 eyes, to follow them in their course, as they swooped 
 towards the water. What! how was this? As he 
 turned, he looked out upon an expanse of waters, 
 seemingly all around him. Frightened, he sprang 
 up from his recumbent posture, and ran to the edge 
 
ROCKEDGE. GEOFFREY'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 of the rock. Sure enough, while he had been lying 
 there, the breakers had rolled in, till they had quite 
 (Hied up the space between him and the shore! 
 
 How deep was it? His heart beating like a sledge- 
 hammer, Geoffrey slipped down the edge of the rock, 
 and, clinging to the sea-weed, examined the water 
 beneath. Far down into its green depths he looked, 
 and saw that it was already above his head; for 
 Geoffrey, alas! was no giant. 
 
 w I might as well stay here, then," said he, stoutly, 
 half aloud ; and with one of his childhood's habits, 
 when he wished to show he did not care, he whistled 
 loudly. That whistling, however, was a very sur- 
 face affair, and soon died away. In his heart, the 
 poor little fellow was shaking with terror. What, 
 drown here, in the very sight of his home! "O, I 
 shan't!" said he, springing up. "I can't believe 
 it ! " 
 
 He anxiously examined the rock, to see if there 
 were no marks by which he could tell how far the 
 water came. The sea-weed stopped quite a little way 
 from the top of the rock, and at first that gave him a 
 thrill of hope. But presently he remembered how 
 hMi the waves dashed over the rocks in shore : what 
 
264 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 must they be here? His heart died within him, Avith 
 a sickening feeling; how could he stand, with his 
 puny strength, against the great breakers? He 
 should be washed off, perhaps dashed to pieces 
 against the rocks. The thought made the poor little 
 fellow tremble all over ; but the next minute he ex- 
 claimed, half aloud, — for that seemed to make him 
 feel less alone, — 
 
 "Any way, I shan't drown this minute, and per- 
 haps something may turn up." 
 
 Geoffrey, with all his childishness in some things, 
 had what we Yankees emphatically call "true grit," 
 and never gave in. He set his teeth hard, and said, 
 half defiantly, — 
 
 "Well, I won't lose the barnacles, any way, the 
 water won't reach me till long after it covers them ! " 
 But as he sat there, pretending to be looking at the 
 barnacles, he was really keeping an anxious eye on 
 the water, hoping against hope for some boat to 
 come and take him off. 
 
 "They must miss me at home," said he, "so I 
 won't give up. O, wouldn't papa call me manly 
 now, I wonder? " 
 
 A sob choked him as he said this, but he swallowed 
 down the rising tears, halt angrily. 
 
ROCKEDGE. — GEOFFREY'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 Meantime, at home, growing anxiety was felt at 
 his non-appearance. " Where is Geoffrey ? " one and 
 another had asked, till the usual feeling, that he 
 would turn up, and prove to have only been in some 
 mischief, died away, and all the members of the 
 family gathered together, with a growing conviction 
 that something had happened. 
 
 "If only we had some clew!" said grandpapa, 
 pacing the floor. 
 
 "The boats, perhaps!" said Bob, and hurried 
 down to the shore. Alas ! both boats were on the 
 beach. The horses were thought of, but they were 
 in the stable, — and darkness was coming on. 
 
 Suddenly Jimmie, who had been running from one 
 place to another, the foremost among the seekers, 
 exclaimed, lifting his little pale anxious face, — 
 
 " O, cousin Sue 1 he has gone to the rock, to see 
 the barnacles. I heard him say he wished he could 
 be there when the tide turned." 
 
 "What rock, child?" said Mr. Osborne. 
 " Why, ' Big Outsider,' there," said Jimmie. " O, 
 if he should have got caught there ! " 
 
 "It couldn't be possible," said cousin Sue, turning 
 pale at the bare suggestion, while Arthur, hurrying 
 
266 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 to the piazza with the telescope, declared he thought 
 he could make out a little black speck on the rock, 
 through the growing twilight. 
 
 " But there is water between," added he, faltering. 
 
 " VVe can take the boat," said Bob, boldly, while 
 grandmamma wrung her hands, "and we can take old 
 Smith with us, grandpapa; he knows the rocks." 
 
 There was no time for talking. Mr. Osborne and 
 the two boys hurried to the beach, where old Smith, 
 the fisherman, and the boat were soon ready. Poor 
 little Jimmie had grown quite pale and faint when 
 the speck had been seen, and, when Mr. Osborne 
 had said, "Only you two elder ones must go, Arthur 
 — I can't have Jimmie going," had exclaimed, in a 
 low voice, "O, I couldn't!" 
 
 Every one was carried out of himself in the anxiety 
 and suspense ; even Steve Lenox walked the beach 
 with Mr. Osborne, as the boys pushed off in the boat 
 with old Smith. 
 
 For a few minutes nobody spoke — each one's 
 heart was in his mouth. 
 
 "The waves will be high to-night, I reckon," said 
 the fisherman ; and nobody could answer. 
 
 It was quite a long pull before they got in sight of 
 the rock, but at last they rounded the point. 
 
ROCKEDGE. — GEOFFREY'S ADVENTURE. 2G7 
 
 "Look, Smith," said Bob, low and hurriedly; 
 " don't you see something there in the twilight?" 
 
 " How high the breakers are ! " said Arthur, his 
 voice trembling. 
 
 The fisherman gave a backward glance over his 
 shoulder, as he pulled the oars vigorously. 
 
 " Something, sure enough, Master Bob," said he, 
 laconically. " How long it will be there I don't say ! " 
 
 After that nobody spoke a word, but every one 
 listened to the beating of his own heart. As they 
 neared the rock, Arthur shut his eyes, — he could 
 seem to see nothing but the white foam, — but Bob 
 raised his head. 
 
 "We're here, Geoffrey ! " cried he. "Hold out 
 a minute longer ! " 
 
 " / am holding /" said a voice, which sounded as 
 if it came through the speaker's shut teeth. Then I 
 think everybody shut their eyes, except, perhaps, old 
 Smith. There was a thump on the rock, a dash of 
 spray in their faces, a wild roaring of waters, then 
 long, strong, vigorous pulls at the oars. When 
 Arthur and Bob opened their eyes, Geoffrey was 
 sitting in the boat ! 
 
 "Well, Master Geoffrey * said the fisherman, "I 
 
268 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 reckon you come as near the jumping-off place to- 
 night as you care to ! " 
 
 "I saw the barnacles, though," said Geoffrey, 
 stoutly ; "and that's what I went for ! " And there- 
 upon his fortitude, real and pretended, gave way, 
 and he burst into a loud fit of crying. 
 
 Even Steve Lenox turned away his head when the 
 boat grounded on the beach, and Jimmie, who had 
 flown down to the shore at the first tidings that they 
 were coming, threw himself into the arms of his 
 twin. 
 
 That evening, when Geoffrey, put to bed, — grand- 
 mamma's infallible cure or preventive for colds and 
 all physical ills, — was sitting, magnificent, propped 
 up by pillows, wrapped up in shawls, and regaling 
 himself with hot, spiced wine, expressly prepared for 
 him by Prissy, under grandmamma's directions, 
 " Jimmie," said he to his twin, who sat, still pale from 
 his fright, on the bed beside him, "Jimmie, I want to 
 speak to Arthur alone, and I don't want even you to 
 hear what I say." 
 
 Jimmie went, without a word, to call his brother. 
 
 "Arthur," said Geoffrey, as Arthur entered, "I've 
 got something very important to say to you." 
 
ROCKEDGE. — GEOFFREYS ADVENTURE. 
 
 26U 
 
 (Geoffrey's late adventure had, he felt, given him 
 dignity.) "You're sure you won't be angry with 
 me, now ? " 
 
 «I couldn't to-night, Jeff!" said Arthur, in his 
 
 sweetest tone. 
 
 The hair-breadth escape of the little scapegrace 
 seemed to have endeared him, twofold, to every one, 
 to-night. Perhaps Geoffrey Hew this. 
 
 « Well, then," said he, looking a little alarmed at 
 his own boldness, "I thought I'd better tell you that 
 I heard what you and Steve were talking about this 
 afternoon — about Bob and his box, you know. And 
 it was really for you, then, that he wanted that 
 money? " 
 
 " Geoffrey," said Arthur, gravely, " did you 
 really listen to us? How could you be so dis- 
 honorable ? " 
 
 "I didn't listen," said Geoffrey, his lip trembling. 
 "I heard. O, Arthur, you promised you- wouldn't 
 be angry with me ! " 
 
 "And I am not," said Arthur, recovering his self- 
 possession. " If you didn't mean to listen, all right. 
 One is very likely to misunderstand what he over- 
 hears in that way." 
 
270 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 " But I didn't misunderstand," said Geoffrey, per- 
 sistently. "I heard Steve say, quite plainly, that 
 Bob sold his box to pay your debts. Do you 
 have debts, Arthur?" 
 
 "You mustn't ask me such questions, Geoffrey," 
 said Arthur, turning away his face. "I cannot 
 answer them." 
 
 " O, don't be vexed, Arthur ! " said Geoffrey. fe I 
 won't ask any more. But you will tell grandpapa — 
 won't you? O, he was so angry with poor Bob, and 
 Bob wouldn't tell. I don't see how you could help 
 speaking, when he was so unhappy ! " 
 
 "Geoffrey," said Arthur, gravely and kindly, "you 
 forget that I know nothing of what you say about 
 Bob; and I cannot help thinking you are talking 
 about what you do not understand. It is very 
 wrong for a little boy like you to listen to what 
 my friends and I say to each other, and then speak 
 so to me." 5 
 
 "O, Arty.!" said Geoffrey, with an odd little break 
 in his voice. "It was only for poor Bob! Won't 
 you please speak to grandpapa, at least, and ask him 
 to be kind to Bob again?" 
 
 "I hope he is kind now, Geoffrey," said Arthur, 
 
ROCKEDGE. — GEOFFREYS ADVENTURE. till 
 
 quite seriously. "And I am sure you are talking 
 more than is good for you." 
 
 And then, despite poor Geoffrey's piteous "(), 
 Arthur, please jufe£ one moment more ! " he went 
 away, leaving his brother inconsolable at the result 
 of his ill-timed pleading for Bob. 
 
2,2 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 WAR NEWS. 
 
 NE bright summer day, the party of young 
 
 V_>^ people went to Fisher's Island to dine, spend 
 the day, and have a sea-side picnic. It was the last 
 day of Steve Lenox's visit, and the excursion was 
 undertaken rather for his entertainment than for 
 anything else ; for Sue, a prime element in all par- 
 ties of pleasure, was not to-day in quite her usual 
 spirits. No war letters had come during the week, 
 and the want of them made more than one face in 
 the little group sad. 
 
 However, Sue had not refused to join the picnic 
 party, because she knew she should be missed if she 
 yielded to her own inclinations, and staid quietly 
 in her room. So she went, and the day passed 
 as such days usually do. The island was a pretty 
 little green place, with plenty of fishing facilities; 
 there were clams to be baked, various branches of 
 cookery to be attended to, and sea-baths to be taken 
 
WAR NEWS. 
 
 273 
 
 in the rocky coves of the island. Then, as the sun 
 began to get low, and to gild the water with its 
 long, golden rays, the little party gathered together 
 their cooking utensils, and took to their boats, 
 Sue, Bob, and Jimmie in one, and the rest in the 
 other. The smaller and lighter boat reached the 
 shore first; and, leaving Bob to attend to the haul- 
 ing up of the dory, Sue and Jimmie slowly climbed 
 the steep steps up the bank. 
 
 It had been a hot, sultry August day, and as they 
 reached the pasture which must be crossed before 
 getting to the house, Sue pushed back her broad 
 hat, and drew a long sigh. 
 
 "You're tired, cousin Sue," said Jimmie, affec- 
 tionately, looking up in her face. 
 
 " Only a little, Jim — the bright sun on the water 
 has given me a headache, I think. Suppose I sit 
 down under this tree here, and you run in and 
 bring me the paper, and — and any letters that may 
 have been brought from the post-office." 
 
 "Yes, I will," said Jimmie, and was off like a 
 shot. Sue sat down on the long, bleached pasture 
 grass, and leaned back against the tree, taking off' 
 her hat that the slight breeze might blow through 
 18 
 
274 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 her hair, and cool her heated cheeks. She felt unu- 
 sually depressed to-day, and the merry-making had 
 been hard work. Her mind, usually turned so res- 
 olutely to the bright side, would, in spite of her, 
 bring up, to-day, the dark picture of the war, and 
 fancy all sorts of sorrowful possibilities. "There, I 
 mustn't ! " said she, with a little sigh and smile. 
 " Perhaps Jimmie will bring me a letter." Jimmie 
 appeared running across the field, in his hand only 
 the evening paper. 
 
 "Here it is, cousin Sue," said he, breathless. 
 "I didn't stop to look, but there is a long list of 
 headings ; perhaps it's war news." 
 
 Sue seized the paper with trembling hands, and 
 Jimmie knelt down beside her, to look over her 
 shoulder. Yes, there was the column, with the 
 conspicuous headings, — 
 
 w Great Battle. Retreat of our Forces. The 
 
 Regiment engaged. Heavy Losses among Officers 
 and Men. List of Killed and Wounded." 
 
 "Guy's regiment!" said Jimmie, under his 
 breath. With fixed eyes and white cheeks, Sue 
 hurried down the column, till she came to the list 
 of killed and wounded. Jimmie saw in the long 
 list of names but two. 
 
WAR NEWS. 
 
 275 
 
 WAR NEWS. 
 
 "Severely wounded, Second Lieutenant John Os- 
 borne, Company G." 
 
 "Missing, supposed killed, Colonel Guy Dalton, 
 of the Regiment." 
 
 Sue raised her eyes for a minute to Jimmie's 
 white face. 
 
 "Do you see?" she began, in a voice that fright- 
 ened Jimmie, it was so unlike hers. Then, before 
 she had said a word more, she sank back against 
 
27fi 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 the trunk of the tree, and became so white and cold 
 that Jimmie thought she was dead. 
 
 "O, dear cousin Sue," said he, putting his 
 arms round her neck. w Don't look so ; speak 
 to me ! " 
 
 But as she did not speak, and lay there, with 
 her eyes shut, as if she were indeed dead, Jimmie 
 fled as fast as his trembling knees would let him 
 to the house for help. 
 
 The house seemed empty. Grandpapa and grand- 
 mamma w r ere gone to drive, the boating party not 
 yet returned. Jimmie stood on the stairs, his teeth 
 chattering, his whole little frame shivering, and 
 called in anguish, " Prissy, Prissy ! Is nobody 
 there? O, will nobody come?" 
 
 r Bless the child ! " cried Prissy, emerging from 
 the kitchen. -"Tin here. Has anything happened ?" 
 
 "O, Prissy ! " said Jimmie, springing towards her. 
 "Come quickly. Colonel Dalton is dead, and it has 
 killed cousin Sue ! " 
 
 "1 don't believe it," said Prissy, firmly. "Don't 
 cry and shake that way, Master Jimmie, dear ; she's 
 only fainted. I'm going to her right away." 
 
 Under the influence of Prissy's vigorous remedies, 
 
WAR NEWS. 
 
 277 
 
 poor Sue opened her eyes, and slowly came back 
 to the consciousness of sorrow. 
 
 "0, Guy!" said she, half aloud ; then catching 
 sight of Prissy's kind, familiar face, "Prissy, is it 
 you? He is dead! I knew it this morning;" and 
 throwing her arms round Prissy's neck, she seemed 
 to gasp for breath. 
 
 "Don't you believe it, my darling," said the old 
 woman, patting Sue's shoulder, as if she had been 
 a child. "Take my word for it, it will turn out to 
 be a story ; these newspaper men always do get 
 things tail foremost! And now you get right up, 
 and let me help you into the house." 
 
 "Yes, I must go to Lillie," said Sue, spring- 
 ing up. 
 
 How slowly time seems to pass when we are suf- 
 fering from any sorrow or anxiety L How long it 
 seems since we heard the news which has made our 
 hearts so heavy ! Something like this Bob was per- 
 haps feeling, as he sat on the piazza, with the same 
 half-stunned sensation he had had on the bright sunny 
 
 day when they had said good by to the Regi 
 
 meat. How Ions; this afternoon seemed since the 
 time they had rowed back from the sunny island, 
 
.278 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 and what endless hours since grandpapa had hurried 
 in from the carriage, exclaiming, " Where is my poor, 
 dear girl?" It seemed a day, at least, since Bob 
 himself had been sitting on the piazza, trying to 
 realize that Guy was really dead. 
 
 You will think this story of mine has a great 
 many tears in it ; but what can I do ? Life is made 
 up of tears as well as smiles, you know ; and there 
 are even some hours when we think we can see only 
 clouds. Well for us if we can remember, then, that 
 when the clouds are thickest, the sun is still shining 
 behind ! 
 
 Suddenly Bob started up from his dejected atti- 
 tude, and softly hurried up stairs through the entry, 
 wdiich no one had remembered to light. The door 
 of Sue's room stood ajar, and Bob thought he could 
 see her light dress on the sofa, though the room 
 was dark. 
 
 "Are you there, Sue?" said he, softly. "May I 
 come in?" 
 
 The figure on the sofa moved, and a very low 
 voice said, "Yes, Bob." 
 
 Bob went up to the sofa, and knelt down by Sue. 
 " I wanted to speftk to .you," said he, in a husky 
 tone, "about something that — " 
 
WAll NEWS. 
 
 279 
 
 * Don't be afraid to say his name," said Sue. 
 "Something that Guy said, Bob, dear?" 
 
 He nodded his head. "I did not tell you about 
 it," whispered he, "but — but when I saw him last, 
 he gave me this little seal of his to remember some- 
 thing by. And — and if anything happened to him, 
 I was to give it to you, and tell you to look at 
 the words on it." 
 
 He slipped the precious seal into Sue's hand, and 
 turned aw 7 ay his face. 
 
 " It is his little f jSursum Corda 9 seal," said Sue ; 
 and if Bob could have seen her face in the dark, he 
 would have seen a look of brightness, almost like a 
 smile, on it. "Bob," said she, hesitating, "would 
 you mind telling me what he said, and what you 
 were to remember?" 
 
 "I want to tell you," said Bob, still hoarsely. 
 " It was the day we went to the camp , and I was so 
 unhappy after I came home, that I had — I had to 
 go to him. I asked him to take me with him, be- 
 cause I thought I was too unhappy to stay here 
 alone without him. And he told me that it was 
 cowardly to turn my back on what I had to bear, 
 and to try to run away from my post. He told me 
 
280 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 that we were all soldiers, fighting our battles ; and 
 then he gave me this little seal, and told me to 
 look at it when I felt lonely, and think that he — 
 O, Sue, I have made you cry ! " 
 
 For though, in the darkness, he could not see her 
 face, he could feel Sue's tears dropping on his hand. 
 
 "No, no," said Sue, putting her arms round the 
 boy's neck, and resting her head on his shoulder. 
 "Go on, dear Bob; I want to hear." 
 
 "I was to think," said Bob, still in a whisper, 
 "that my friend had not forgotten me — O, I have 
 looked so many times! — and if— if such a time 
 came as this, I was to give the seal to you, and 
 tell you to think that he would have said those 
 words to you. But O, Sue, dear, don't be unhap- 
 py; don't cry! I can't help thinking it isn't all 
 so dark as it looks. Please don't make me think I 
 have made you more unhappy." 
 
 "You haven't, indeed, dear Bob," Sue said, kiss- 
 ing his cheek. "You have been like a little com- 
 forter to me. I Avas wishing for uncle Arthur ; but 
 you have been like a little piece of him, at any rate 
 But, indeed, dear boy, I cant take the seal! I 
 would nil her have you keep it." 
 
WAR NEWS. 
 
 281 
 
 "No, no," said Bob, pushing away her hand, 
 and dashing the tears from his eyes. " It is yours, 
 * Sue.' 
 
 "Keep it, Bob," said Sue, earnestly. "It will 
 make me happier to know you have it. You know 
 I have — I have himself. Would you tell Lillie, 
 please, what you have been telling me? She is in 
 her room. Good night, dear boy ; " and Bob stole 
 gently away. 
 
 Poor little Lillie ! her sorrow had been of a more 
 stormy kind than Sue's. She had resolutely refused 
 to see anybody, and was sitting crouched in a great 
 arm-chair in her room, all flushed and dishevelled 
 with the violence of her grief. Bob hesitated on 
 the threshold, but it was not only Sue's errand he 
 came on. Generous still, even in what was to him 
 so much to give, he felt that he ought not to keep 
 Guy's seal to himself. He was almost afraid to 
 tell the story to Lillie, and his voice trembled all 
 through, so that he had to stop several times. 
 
 Lillie had sat quite silent while he was speaking; 
 but when he ended, she put out her hands in the 
 darkness, and taking Bob's hand, pressed it hard, 
 without saying a word. 
 
282 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Bob opened her hand, and dropped into it the 
 little seal. "Would you like to keep it, Lillie?" 
 said he, in a whisper. 
 
 "I don't want to take it away from you, Bob, " 
 said Lillie; "you cared for Guidie so much! But," 
 wistfully, "would you mind very much if I kept it 
 in the night? I should like so much to feel it under 
 my pillow, and I would give it to you when morn- 
 ing came." 
 
 And that was the first compact between Bob 
 and Lillie. 
 
 Early in the morning Mr. Osborne went on to 
 Washington with uncle John, who was o- 0 in<r to 
 bring poor Jack home from the hospital. "Shot 
 through both ankles," the telegram had said; and 
 Geoffrey, remembering the nonsense verse he had 
 written down so carefully, quite forgot to be manly 
 in his grief for cousin Jack. 
 
 Those were long, weary, sad days when grand- 
 papa was away. Everybody knew that he could 
 not bring home any hopeful news, but every one 
 waited in suspense, and longed for his leturu. 
 The house was still and silent. Lillie had wept and 
 
WAR NEWS. 
 
 283 
 
 worried herself into a sort of slow fever, and lay 
 all day, with hot cheeks, tossing in her little bed, 
 while Sue, so pale that she looked like the ghost of 
 her rosy self, took untiring care of her. As for the 
 boys, even noisy Geoffrey spoke in whispers; and 
 as for Arthur, he seemed more wretched than any 
 one, though he had, perhaps, known Guy least. He 
 wandered about, haggard and restless, as if he 
 could not be still. 
 
 At last, on the evening of the third day, Mr. 
 Osborne came back; and Sue, white as a sheet, and 
 with dark circles round her eyes, stole down noise- 
 lessly to meet him. 
 
 She looked up in his face, for she could not speak 
 a word. Grandpapa caught her in his arms, as if 
 he thought she was about to fall. 
 
 * Don't look so, my dear girl," said he, in his 
 hearty tone ; " keep up a brave heart. It is not 
 so bad, after all. Reports reached us to-day that 
 Guy is not dead. That is good news — isn't it?" 
 
 "Where is he?" said Sue, holding fast to the 
 baluster. 
 
 "Why," said grandpapa, seemingly very busy 
 with his shawl and bag, ff he is a prisoner, I 
 
284 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 fear; but we must hope for the best, Susie. What 
 have you been doing to make yourself look like 
 that?" 
 
 "Lillie is sick," said grandmamma, at his elbow, 
 " and Sue won't let any one go near her but her- 
 self." 
 
 "It makes me happier to be with her," whispered 
 Sue, raising her eyes to Mr. Osborne's face; "don't 
 tell me I mustn't, please. O, grandpapa, do you 
 call Andersonville good news?" 
 
 "We must look at it as brightly as we can, my 
 girl," said grandpapa, trying to speak loud and 
 cheerfully. " A prison is better, at all events, than 
 a ball through both ankles, like my poor Jack. 
 That boy a cripple for life ! and even on that hos- 
 pital bed as full of his fun and spirits as ever! 
 When John went up to him, he looked up with a 
 little smile, my clear," turning to grandmamma, "and 
 said, ? 0 my prophetic soul, my father! if I had 
 only said both legs, instead of one ! Not half a 
 chance, even, did they leave me of running away.'" 
 
 Grandpapa coughed loudly, and Sue stole away 
 to Lillie. 
 
WAR NEWS. 
 
 "O, Sue," said Bob, meeting her at the top of 
 the stairs, "it is surely better than — " 
 
 « Don't talk about it now, Bob, dear, please. I 
 thought he was out of pain, at least; and now to 
 think of him dying by inches in a rebel prison ! " 
 
 And with a shudder she hurried past him, while 
 Bob's heart sank again. 
 
286 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT A LITTLE. 
 
 THIS idea of the rebel prison, coming to poor 
 little Lillie in her ailing state, so worked upon 
 her fevered imagination, that she . became quite seri- 
 ously ill, and in her dreams moaned about poor Guy 
 starving to death, till the nights were more trying to 
 her patient nurse than the days. Sue had begun to 
 look so worn and haggard that grandpapa interfered, 
 and tried to forbid her going near Lillie's bedside. 
 But this was a hard fiat to carry out when both nurse 
 and patient were bent on breaking it. Sue pleaded, 
 and Lillie refused to have any one else lift a finger 
 for her; and no one could have the heart, just now, 
 1o rouse Lillie from this unthinking selfishness by 
 a word. 
 
 The nights were growing cool and damp now at 
 Rockedge, and both on that account, and to be nearer 
 the city in case of possible war news, all longed to 
 
THE CLOUDS LIFT A LITTLfC. 
 
 287 
 
 be at Lakeside Hill. But Lillie was really too ill to 
 be moved. 
 
 At last Prissy, who, in virtue of her long service 
 in the family, sometimes assumed the right to speak 
 a timely word, determined that this was a case 
 for her. 
 
 "The child needs nothing in the world to make 
 her well but a little pleasant scolding," said she, 
 shrewdly, to herself. "And since everybody else is 
 too soft-hearted to speak a sharp word, — and no 
 wonder, I'm sure, poor dears, — why, it must come 
 from me. I shan't hurt her; my bark is worse than 
 my bite." 
 
 Accordingly, one afternoon, Prissy, armed with 
 some of her most delicate jelly (perhaps to aid in 
 administering the bitter pill she deemed so neces- 
 sary.), ascended to Lillie's room. 
 
 "Here's some of my nice wine jelly I've made on 
 purpose for you, Miss Lillie," she began, coaxingly. 
 « You'd like that now — wouldn't you? " 
 
 "No, no," said Lillie, fretfully, turning her face to 
 the wall. "It's no use to make me nice things, 
 Prissy. I can't eat ; it chokes me when I think of 
 Guy — dying, perhaps, for a piece of bread. Take 
 it aw T ay, please." 
 
288 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 But Prissy remained standing by the table, 
 thoughtfully clinking the spoon against the glass. 
 She was thinking how to begin, for she was no Gor- 
 gon, save in her own eyes, and, in truth, as soft- 
 hearted as any of the others. 
 
 "Miss Lillie," she began, presently, in rather a 
 timid tone, "if you'll let an old woman speak, I'm 
 going to say something to you. You're not behav- 
 ing pretty now, my dear — not, I am sure, as your 
 brother would like to see you." 
 
 "I don't know why not, Prissy," said Lillie, look- 
 ing up in some astonishment. "I can't help being 
 sick." 
 
 "Some folks can help things more than they think 
 for," said Prissy, sagely. "Nobody gets well by 
 lying on their backs and saying, <I can't eat; I 
 can't drink ; I can't help thinking of this, that, and 
 the other.' " 
 
 "You're unkind, Prissy," said Lillie, in a grieved 
 ton?,. " Can I help thinking of poor Guy ? " 
 
 "No; no more can other folks," said Prissy, who, 
 having broken the ice, was now determined to " kill 
 or cure." "But that's no reason for talking so much 
 about it, and giving other people twice as bad a 
 
THE CLOUDS LIFT A LITTLE. 
 
 281) 
 
 heartache as they had before. Look at poor Miss 
 Sue, fading away like a snow-wreath before our eyes, 
 wearing herself out for you, Miss Lillie, when, if she 
 said, l?ke you, ? I can't help it,' she'd be crying her 
 eyes out for her lover. Poor darling ! do you think 
 she never thinks of him starving there, as you say, 
 in that hole, without your telling her of it? That's 
 what I call not pretty in you, Miss Lillie." 
 
 "I did not think," said Lillie, in so low 7 a tone that 
 it is a wonder Prissy heard. 
 
 w I don't mean," said the old woman, going on very 
 quickly, as if afraid her courage would fail her if she 
 stopped, w that anybody need go to look at this with 
 such a long face, neither, if only they would make 
 up their minds to see the bright side. Now, you 
 listen to what I'm going to tell you, Miss Lillie, and 
 don't let your heart die away like that. Mark my 
 words : your brother'll come out of prison yet. I 
 always did say that boy would fall on his feet, ever 
 since — " 
 
 Lillie involuntarily turned her face towards the 
 speaker, for there was something soothing (" like an 
 old cat's purring," saucy Fanny Osborne had once 
 *aid) in Prissy s manner of telling a story, 
 19 
 
290 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME . 
 
 ?f It was a good many years ago," said the old 
 woman, observing the movement on the part of her 
 auditor, "before 3-011 were born, my dear. Master 
 Guy wasn't more than seven, and your dear pa — 
 whom you never saw, Miss Lillie — had brought him 
 to spend the day at Lakeside Hill. We were build- 
 ing out the piazza from the south window then, and 
 the little fellow couldn't have enough of looking at 
 the carpenters and masons at their work. He would 
 keep going to that window, and my mind misgave me 
 that he'd be up to some mischief; there was nothing 
 only beams to the piazza then, you know. But your 
 grandma'am — Mrs. Osborne, I mean (she's so easy 
 always) — said, f O, Prissy, what an old Betty you 
 are, with your worries all the time about this child 
 and that ! You mind your work, and don't be afraid 
 of the little boy's coming to harm ; aren't the men 
 there to take care of him?' 'Very well, ma'am,' 
 says I ; but I thought to myself, f Yes, and by and by 
 the men go to their dinner, and then who's to look 
 out for little Guy ? ' So, after I'd put my cake in the 
 oven, I slipped up stairs, lbr my mind misgave me, 
 and there, sure enough — not a mason or a painter to 
 be seen, and the little boy out on one of the beams, 
 
THE CLOUDS LIFT A LITTLE. 
 
 291 
 
 I gave a frightened sort of scream, and I suppose 
 startled him. He kind of looked round quick, lost 
 his balance, and fell off the beam. I screamed then 
 in good earnest, and flew to the window, expecting 
 to see him lying dead on the ground. Not a bit of 
 it. There he was, standing on his feet, and looking 
 up as smiling and saucy as you please. 'Don't be 
 frightened,' says he ; ? I'm not hurt a bit. I fell right 
 on my feet!' And mark my words: he'll do just 
 that all the rest of his life. I feel it in every bone 
 that he'll get out of that prison." 
 
 Prissy's philosophy might not be logical, but it 
 was, at all events, cheering, and seemed to put new 
 heart into her little listener. 
 
 "Give me the jelly, Prissy," said she, sitting up 
 with more energy than she had shown for days. 
 "I'm going to eat it all, and get well just as soon 
 as I can." 
 
 "Bless your pretty face," said the old woman, 
 and hurried off to the kitchen, with her apron to 
 her eyes. 
 
 "I've been very selfish, sister Sue," Lillie said, 
 with a sigh, as her nurse came in to take the empty 
 glass. "Why didn't you tell me that I was making 
 you do too much for me?" 
 
292 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "Because, my darling," said Sue, "it made me 
 happy to do it." 
 
 "It wasn't that I forgot you," went on Lillie, 
 thoughtfully, shaking her head, " but I didn't think 
 how hard I was making it for you. Now tell me, 
 Sue, didn't you think a little bit, at first, that having 
 Guy in prison was harder than having him dead?" 
 
 "At first," said Sue, dropping her eyes, "but not 
 now. O, Lillie, dear, we mustn't feel that anything 
 we have to bear is too hard for us ; if it were, we 
 shouldn't have it." 
 
 "But," whispered Lillie, "isn't it hard that the 
 suffering should come on Guidie? We may get to 
 think it not so hard for us, but for him — " 
 
 " Hush, Lillie ! " said Sue ; " let's remember, 
 darling, what I know clear Guy is thinking for 
 himself, that no suffering comes to us unsent, and 
 that, if we try to run away from it, and say we can't 
 bear it, we are poor soldiers, after all, as he said." 
 
 "I think it's hard, still, Sue," said Lillie, with 
 something of her old persistency ; " but I shan't make 
 it any harder, at any rate. I'm going to get well 
 now." 
 
 And the next day, to everybody's surprise, she 
 
THE CLOUDS LIFT A LITTLE. 
 
 203 
 
 bej^ed to be dressed and carried down to the parlor 
 sofa. A new atmosphere seemed to be felt in the 
 house at this little gleam of brightness. 
 
 Other clouds, too, were lifting. No sooner was 
 Steve Lenox gone — a most uncongenial element in 
 the house of sorrow every one had felt him to be — 
 than Arthur dropped from his somewhat unnatural 
 gayety into entire dejection, and, as I said, wandered 
 about the house with such a wretched face, that Bob 
 tried to comfort him, thinking that perhaps, after all, 
 Arthur had cared for Guy as much as himself. But 
 Arthur repulsed him almost roughly, and avoided 
 everybody. 
 
 At last, one afternoon, as grandpapa was writing 
 letters in his little study, he happened to raise his 
 eyes, and saw Arthur standing beside him. 
 
 * What is it? " said he, poising his pen in his hand. 
 "You are too considerate, Arthur; you need not 
 have been afraid of interrupting me." 
 
 "It wasn't that, sir," said Arthur, in a low tone. 
 "I wasn't ready to speak. Grandpapa, I'm going 
 to ask you for some money." 
 
 <f Well," said the old gentleman, "you needn't look 
 so wretched about that, Arthur. You shall have it, 
 and welcome, if you'll tell me what for." 
 
201 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "I came to tell you sir," said Arthur, picking up 
 the pen Mr. Osborne had dropped, and playing with 
 it nervously. "The fact is, I owe some money to 
 one of the fellows." 
 
 "Debts!" said Mr. Osborne, pushing back his 
 chair. " Debts at your age? Highty-tighty, Arthur ! 
 I never had debts when I was as young as you. 
 However, let's hear the story ; it is something, at 
 least, that you come to me honestly and confess it. 
 I wish Bob were as honest." 
 
 r Bob?" exclaimed Arthur. "O, grandpapa, don't 
 say anything of Bob till you have heard the story ! It 
 has all been my fault ; you have been so mistaken — " 
 
 " Mistaken ! " said the old gentleman, knitting his 
 brows. "I never let any one tell me I'm mistaken 
 till I say so myself. But what is this you say about 
 Bob ? Out with the story, Arthur." 
 
 And Arthur told it, with many falterings, many 
 pauses, for it was a severe trial to his moral courage 
 to stand before so irascible a judge as Mr. Osborne 
 — a severe trial to his pride, too, to feel himself 
 lowered in the eyes of his partial grandfather. But 
 he had suffered too much from his concealment to 
 hide anything now. He told the whole story, with- 
 out sparing or excusing himself. 
 
THE CLOUDS LIFT A LITTLE. 
 
 295 
 
 "And O," he ended, "I have been so unhappy, 
 though, indeed, I did not know how bad it had been 
 for Bob till very lately. And then I still thought 
 for a little while that I would not tell you. But this 
 news about Guy seemed to make me feel as if I could 
 not be a hypocrite any longer. You do not know, 
 sir, how wretched I have been." 
 
 "1 never could have -believed it of you, Arthur — 
 this gambling," said Mr. Osborne, slowly. Poor 
 Arthur winced, for these were the very words he had 
 dreaded. "But I dare say there is some excuse for 
 you. At any rate, you have been wretched enough 
 to pay for it. What I can't understand is, how you 
 could have let me treat poor Bob so — " 
 
 "That is the very thing," said Arthur, eagerly. 
 " But, grandpapa, you know for some time I did not 
 realize that there was anything the matter with Bob. 
 He never told me he was unhappy, and I was too 
 much troubled about myself to find it out." 
 
 " Poor, clear, noble little fellow ! " said the impul- 
 sive oid gentleman ; "I feel as if I had been a brute to 
 him." And plunging at the bell, he sent a servant 
 to call Master Bob. 
 
 Bob appeared, all unconscious and unthinking of 
 
BATTLES AT HOME • 
 
 self. He opened the library door with almost an 
 anxious air. 
 
 "Is there any more war news?" said he, advan- 
 cing a step or two. " O, grandpapa, nothing worse, 
 please ! " 
 
 " Come here, Bob/' said Mr. Osborne, holding out 
 his hand. The kind tone, and the sight of Arthur, 
 standing there with downcast head, seemed to lift the 
 veil from Bob's eyes. He colored very red, though 
 it seemed like a flush of joy. 
 
 " O, Arthur ! " said he ; " have you told, really? " 
 
 w Bob," said grandpapa, " we want to ask your 
 pardon, all of us, for treating you so harshly, when 
 you deserved something so different from us. You 
 have been a very generous, honorable, noble fellow, 
 and you must forgive us if we seemed to think 
 otherwise." 
 
 Bob hung his head, as if he were a culprit, and 
 Arthur said, "Bob, I never would have let it go on 
 so long, if I had known it Was your box you sold. 
 But I needn't make excuses for myself ; I ought to 
 have seen." 
 
 "O, I hope Digby did not tell you," said Bob, as 
 if he could not bear to hear Arthur beg his for- 
 giveness. 
 
THE CLOUDS LIFT A LITTLE. 
 
 297 
 
 MR. OSBORNE UNDERSTANDS IT. 
 
 "No; Steve guessed, and Geoffrey told me that 
 grandpapa had been so angry with yon, when you 
 would not speak for my sake — " 
 
 "There's the evil of your making intimates of 
 these rich, fast fellows," interrupted grandpapa, for- 
 getting, apparently, that ho had himself expressed 
 approval of the friendship with Steve Lenox ; " and 
 another thing, it is hard for you boys to have to go 
 through the world with so little pocket money, and 
 
298 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 so I tell your father — but there ! I suppose it can't 
 be helped." 
 
 "Don't make excuses for me, sir," said Arthur, 
 coloring. "Bob has no more money than I, but he 
 does not do so." 
 
 "Bob? O, well," said grandpapa, with a funny, 
 quizzical look, " you know Bob doesn't care for such 
 things ; so it's no merit to him. But there ! " said 
 the old gentleman, kindly, giving Bob a hearty ship 
 on the shoulder; "he's a manly, brave boy, and we 
 wouldn't wish to change him." 
 
 Bob was far too happy, both in his grandfather's 
 affection, and his brother's tardy recognition of his 
 services, to examine into this speech, or to ask what 
 in him was to be changed. 
 
 Arthur would fain have told him the end of the 
 story, and how he had not been cured of his weak- 
 ness even by his brother's generosity ; but Bob could 
 not bear to hear him, and grandpapa, who secretly 
 felt uncomfortable while his favorite was humbling 
 himself, interfered. 
 
 "Enough, enough, Arthur!" said he. "Don't 
 force Bol) to hear your confessions. All is forgotten 
 and forgiven between you ; it only remains to tell 
 
THE CLOUDS LIFT A LITTLE. 
 
 299 
 
 the rest of the family, and clear off the character of 
 our hardly-used little hero." 
 
 Here again Bob interfered, begging that Jimmie 
 might not be told : it would grieve him as much as it 
 would papa. Arthur, to pacify him, tacitly con- 
 sented to the arrangement that Jimmie should not 
 hear the story. That night, however, he told his 
 little brothers the whole history, Jimmie listening in 
 silence, Geoffrey sitting up in bed, and cross-examin- 
 ing Arthur with the keenness of a lawyer. This 
 made it none the easier for his elder brother : humble 
 pie is a very unpalatable dish to most people. But 
 had he known it, Arthur had never been more nearly 
 great than now, when he felt himself so small. 
 
 ?f I knew it, I knew it," cried Lillie, clapping her 
 hands, when she was told the story. n I knew Bob 
 was no humbug, whatever else he might be ! O, 
 wouldn't Guy be glad ! " 
 
 And perhaps it was this thought which predom- 
 inated in Bob's own happiness. 
 
300 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 COMING HOME. 
 
 GOLDEN October had come now, and the trees 
 at Lakeside Hill were flushed with scarlet, 
 yellow, and crimson. The summer roses and lilies 
 had faded in the garden, and bright asters, or bushes 
 of flaming salvia, had taken their places. The air 
 was crisp and cool, and the crackling wood fires 
 were very cheerful in the lengthening evenings. 
 And how were the faces round them? Some people 
 never talk of their sorrows, and Sue Osborne was 
 one of these. Up stairs in her room, she and Lillie 
 talked of Guy, sympathized with each other, or 
 prayed for patience ; down stairs, both tried to look, 
 as they tried to feel, bright and hopeful. 
 
 The young people were gathered out on the stops 
 one sunny afternoon, just returned from a long walk, 
 or perhaps a game of croquet, when Jimmic came 
 running up the avenue, with a sunshiny face, and 
 a letter in his hand. 
 
COMING HOME. 
 
 301 
 
 "Q, boys, a letter from papa!" cried he; "and 
 such good news in it ! " 
 
 " I wish any good news would come to me" said 
 LHlie, sighing. She seemed to be speaking to her- 
 self, scarcely knowing that she spoke aloud ; bu* 
 Jimmie looked sorry. 
 
 " Are they coming home?" exclaimed Bob, catch- 
 ing the letter from Jimmie's hand. " O, let me 
 read it ! " 
 
 "Out loud," said Geoffrey. So Bob read. 
 
 Paris, October 2, 18—. 
 You will be surprised, dear boys, to see the date 
 of this letter, for you have probably been thinking 
 of us in Italy still. But no ; we have been in Paris 
 now some days, and are beginning to feel as much 
 at home here as travellers who live in carpet-bags 
 and trunks can feel when they drop down for a little 
 time into a large, strange city. We roam through 
 the Louvre, and the Tuileries, and I look at the 
 column in the Place VendQme, and remember how 
 we read the Rollo Books to Geoffrey, when he was 
 getting over the scarlet fever, two winters ago. 
 Would you like me to imitate Rollo, GeofSe, and ga 
 
302 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 with Lillie and mamma to the Hippodrome some 
 Sunday? That story gives a very good idea of 
 Paris on a Sunday, more lively, bustling, and gay 
 than on any other day in the week. But though, 
 you know, at home I always wished that there 
 might be reading-rooms open, or concerts given, to 
 make Sunday a bright, beautiful day to the poor, 
 hard-worked people, who find every-day living so 
 wearing to head, heart, and hands, this isn't precisely 
 the kind of recreation I should advise for them, and 
 certainly would be very unsuitable diversion for a 
 sober old minister. So on Sundays we walk in the 
 gardens, or sometimes go into one of the Catholic 
 churches, and listen to the beautiful music, while 
 all around us kneel the people, telling their beads. 
 Lillie looks at them with wondering eyes, and to- 
 day asked me if "they had those little things to 
 tell them how far they'd got" — in their prayers, 1 
 suppose she meant. 
 
 But you will, I know, be wishing to ask if we 
 tired of Italy, that we came to Paris three or four 
 weeks earlier than we intended. Not at all. Ital- 
 ian skies are as blue and sunny, the oranges and 
 myrtles as fragrant, as all travellers tell us; but 
 
COMING HOME. 
 
 303 
 
 there is something that we care more to see thin 
 anything in Italy — a certain spot in New England. 
 And now you will have guessed that we are coming 
 home, and that Boston, with its east winds, is more 
 attractive to us just now, for the sake of the people 
 in it, than anything that Italy or Paris can show us. 
 
 Arthur will remind me that I am not, in this in- 
 stance, acting up to one of my own maxims — "Im- 
 prove to the full your opportunities." Very true ; 
 but indeed I feel that I have seen and enjoyed al- 
 ready enough to last a lifetime, and as, thank God, 
 my body has been getting new strength, while my 
 mind has been getting new impressions, I feel that 
 the very best thing I can do is to get home as fast as 
 I can — to my home, my work, and you, dear boys. 
 And that is why we are seeing Paris in a hurry, and 
 why we hope, not many days after this letter reaches 
 you, to be with you. 
 
 Indeed, though one mustn't grumble over so much 
 pleasure as we have had, travelling in foreign coun- 
 tries is a hard medicine to take cheerfully, while 
 war is going on at home — while every one who 
 can speak a comforting word to sorrowing hearts, 
 or lift a finger to help, is needed. 1 cannot tell 
 
304 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 you, dear ones, bow I have longed to he with you 
 in this trouble that has come to you all, and the 
 news of which has reached us so lately. Wandei- 
 ing about, as we have done, your last letters have 
 missed us ; and it was not till we got here to Paris 
 that we found a budget of the tardy letters, and in 
 them the piece of war news that comes right home 
 to our hearts. 
 
 I have written to Sue; so what I say here is 
 to you boys only. Bob tells me that Sue wished 
 for uncle Arthur; but, indeed, I doubt if, were he 
 there, he could say more to comfort her than her 
 own brave, sunny hean, does. She is one of the 
 hopeful ones ; so I need uot tell her that we must 
 look on the bright side. One of you tells me that 
 at first he felt as if Guy were bettor dead than 
 in prison. That feeling will not last. I do not 
 mean that I wish heaven to be anything but a bright, 
 beautiful thought to all of us, or a dead friend other 
 than very near. But while there is life there is 
 hope, always, you know — hope of a return to us, 
 and hope of a continuance of the work of which we 
 all have so much to do on earth. Guy Dalton, I 
 blow, had not finished bis. So we musl keen t;t. 
 
COMING HOME. 
 
 305 
 
 our coin-age, and hope for the best, even when we 
 think of the rebel prison, or poor cousin Jack's 
 crutches. 
 
 I have something more to say of the war — the 
 War at Home, this time — of which we talked 
 before I left home. From you, Arthur — 
 
 "This is for you, Arty," said Bob, stopping and 
 coloring. "I won't read this aloud." 
 He srave the sheet to his brother. 
 
 o 
 
 From you, Arthur, we have just received the 
 story, fully, truly told, I know, of your tempta- 
 tions, your weakness, and your repentance. I 
 know you do not like those words, "I hope it 
 will be lesson to you ; " but I say them, neverthe- 
 less. These lessons, dear boy, learned by our own 
 experience and suffering, are always the most per- 
 fectly learned, the best remembered; and if your 
 suffering shall have taught you strength, I hive 
 nothing more to say. This kind of suffering, I 
 know, is too sharp to need an additional sting, and 
 I will not add it by another word. I have forgiven 
 freely, as Bob has done. 
 
 20 
 
306 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 Arthur looked up for a minute at his brother, 
 after reading these lines to himself, then finished 
 the letter aloud. 
 
 For Bob, dear, noble boy, I must say a word, 
 though I doubt whether anything I can say will pay 
 him better than the inward voice which says, "Well 
 done." Don't think we did not see, from your let- 
 ters, that you were not quite your bright happy self, 
 Bob. We saw the little shadow, and were sorry ; 
 for a bright, joyous spirit is a wonderful helper on 
 life's road. But we did not find out the cause of 
 the cloud till Arthur's letter came. Only come out 
 of that hand-to-hand fight with that old fiery ene- 
 my of yours, as well as out of this little shadow 
 and misunderstanding, and we will not ask any 
 more. 
 
 I have a hundred words apiece to say to our 
 twins ; but why should I make this pen and ink 
 say them, when I can so soon speak myself? To 
 one and all, then, I only say that this is the last 
 letter; and just one week from to-day — before this 
 letter reaches you — we shall be on the sea. If, 
 with all of us, a year gone is a year gained, why, 
 
COMING HOME. 
 
 307 
 
 these three words are the best I can find to finish 
 up my letter. 
 
 Your affectionate Father. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " cried Geoffrey, throwing his hat into 
 the air. Jimmie looked wistfully at Lillie. "Don't 
 let us make you sorry, Lillie," he whispered. " We 
 are only glad because papa is coming home." 
 
 "It doesn't make me sorry to see you glad," 
 said Lillie, earnestly. "I am not so selfish as that; 
 I'm glad, too, for you; but O, I wish some steamer 
 were bringing Guidie back to me ! " 
 
 " Do you know," said Jimmie, his little face 
 lighting up with its brightest smile, "I feel as if 
 everything must turn out right and grow happy 
 again when papa is with us? I feel as if all the 
 dark things would grow bright, as the clouds do, 
 you know, when the sun looks through and turns 
 all the rain-drops into a rainbow." 
 
 " Jimmie'll be a poet some of these days," said 
 Geoffrey, in lively disgust. " He's always talking 
 of figures - now r ." 
 
 r In figures, you mean, Geoffrey," said Arthur, 
 lau£hin«y "You make him out a mathematician." 
 
308 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 GRANDFATHER AND LILLIE. 
 
 Foreign letters seemed to be plentiful that day, 
 for, as the children went into the house, grandpapa 
 was just folding up a letter he had received. 
 
 "Well, little lady," said he to Lillie, "this is from 
 your aunt, Mrs. Melville, and she is coming homo, 
 too. She writes to say that she is anxious to have 
 you back again with her in New York, unless you 
 are too happy with us. What do you say? Will 
 you go or stay ? " 
 
COMING HOME. 
 
 309 
 
 "O, grandpapa!" said Lillie, laying both hands 
 on his arm, "let me stay, please. O, I can't go 
 away from sister Sue, and all of you! You are 
 my grandfather, really, now that you are going to 
 be Guy's ! O, let me stay and be your granddaugh- 
 ter, till he comes back, at least ! " 
 
 Grandpapa pulled off his spectacles and rubbed 
 them very hard, muttering something about wishing 
 to have Lillie for his granddaughter a very long 
 time, and wishing to have Guy in prison a very 
 short time — in fact, getting into the midst of a 
 somewhat confused speech. But no more was heard 
 of Mrs. Melville, and he kept Lillie verj close 
 to his arm-chair all the evening. 
 
310 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE SUN SHINES, AND THE RAIN-DROPS GLITTER. 
 
 1^1 OR the next week nothing was heard of but 
 preparations for the coming back of the travel- 
 lers. They wished, of course, to go directly home 
 to the little house in Boston, and grandmamma, 
 cousin Sue, and Prissy had their hands full with 
 opening and getting it ready for them. Bright, 
 happy work it was, and done by loving hands; for 
 Mr. Stanley's presence was almost as much of a sun- 
 beam to them all as to his little boy, and cousin Sue, 
 especially, bloomed into some of her old rosiness 
 when she spoke of uncle Arthur's coming. 
 
 The house, shut up and silent for a year, echoed 
 again to the sound of footsteps and voices ; for the 
 boys, divided between their two homes, were con- 
 stantly rushing in and out of the little city house, to 
 sec how it looked, or how it felt to be at home again. 
 The sound of mop and broom was heard, or the rat- 
 
]HE SUN SHINES, AND THE RAIN-DROPS GLITTER. 311 
 
 tnt of hammer and nails ; for grandmamma was going 
 t > surprise the returned travellers with a new carpet in 
 the study. The boys, too, had each brought their lit- 
 tle "surprises," to be deposited in corners and nooks 
 where they should modestly invite the eye, without 
 forcing themselves into notice ; and Geoffrey, espe- 
 cially, ta^ed his own brain and everybody's patience 
 with devising cunning and impossible hiding-places. 
 
 At last all was ready, the house, from attic to 
 cellar, in bright, comfortable, cosy trim ; and it was 
 settled that on that evening all the family should 
 assemble as a surprise party, to welcome the travel- 
 lers. (What preparations Prissy was making for this 
 surprise party I leave you to imagine.) 
 
 "A real Thanksgiving!" said Geoffrey, gleefully. 
 « O, what a Thanksgiving we shall have this year ! " 
 
 « if only — " said Lillie, then suddenly broke off, 
 to exclaim, with a flash of her eyes, "O, Jimmie, I 
 feel as if it were true— what you said when that 
 letter came— as if your father would really bring me 
 back my brother ! " 
 
 This evening — for it had come now, and Arthui 
 and Bob had really gone to the station, while the resl 
 of the family roamed through the house in a state of 
 
312 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 restless, happy expectancy — was the first on which 
 cousin Jack had made his appearance in public. He 
 came limping in, " prying himself along/' as he said, 
 with a crutch under each arm. The little boys looked 
 up quickly in his face with a sort of shy, sad curios- 
 ity. How would he look now, this fun-loving leader 
 of their games? Yes, the old merry look was still in 
 his bright, dark eyes, though tempered with a shade 
 of earnest sweetness, which gave his face a beauty it 
 had never had before. 
 
 "And that's all the war could do for him," said 
 Fanny, catching Geoffrey's glance. Poor impulsive, 
 tender-hearted Fanny ! She never could quite for- 
 give her country the debt it owed her brother ; so her 
 tone was very bitter as she said these words. 
 
 "All, Fan?" said her brother, playfully patting 
 her shoulder with one of his crutches. "Well, it's 
 something to be changed from a biped into a quad- 
 ruped, at any rate. Geoffrey, since I always turn 
 Father Gander for your especial benefit, — 
 
 What would you have more? 
 
 I went to the war 
 
 With only two legs, 
 
 And 1 come hack with four." 
 
 Geoffrey's laugh was a very hysterical one, and 
 
THE SUN SHINES, AND THE RAIN-DROPS GLITTER. .313 
 
 Fanny said, almost impatiently, ''Jack, Jack, I've no 
 patience with you when you joke about such things. 
 It humbugs nobody, and makes nobody feel any 
 better." 
 
 "It is better to laugh than to cry, though," said 
 her brother, growing serious. "But," wheeling sud- 
 denly round on the twins, and speaking with such 
 earnestness and energy that his eyes shone like stars, 
 "don't think I shall go on four legs all my days, 
 boys. I shall have my feet again yet. I will get 
 well, if this war lasts. I will strike one more blow 
 while I have my arms." 
 
 And out in the entry Sue and'Lillie were talking 
 softly on the stairs. 
 
 "O, Sue," said Lillie, excitedly, "something must 
 be going to happen to-night ! Only feel how my 
 heart beats. O, doesn't it seem as if we must be 
 happy to-night, when every one else is?" 
 
 "And we will be, darling," said Sue, kissing her. 
 " We can take all the happiness there is, you know, 
 if it doesn't come in just the way we could wish." 
 
 There was a rumble of carriage wheels, an exclama- 
 tion, "O, there they are ! " a rushing to the door, a 
 confused round of greetings and welcomes. " Papa, 
 
314 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 papa ! " " O, mamma ! " Jimmie's and Geoffrey's 
 voices were both heard. 
 
 Lillie stood on the lower stair, pressing tier hands 
 hard together, as she always did when she wanted to 
 keep down her excitement, to be quiet and calm. 
 Then suddenly Bob, evidently in strong excitement, 
 rushed into the entry, and, as if seeking some outlet 
 for his emotion, seized Lillie in his arms, as she 
 stood on the stairs, and kissed her. 
 
 "G, Lillie!" said he. 
 
 "Why, Bob!" said the little lady, with dignity. 
 "You forget how old I am. What is the matter 
 with you? Are you so glad that you have lost your 
 wits? And what are you putting out the entry 
 gas for?" 
 
 Bob gave an odd little nervous laugh, and mut- 
 tered something Lillie could not hear. 
 
 "Papa," he exclaimed, " be quick ! I can't be quiet 
 any longer." 
 
 Mr. Stanley, now in the entry, stepped to the 
 doorway of the lighted room, where all who had not 
 rushed to the door awaited him. lie held by the 
 arm a tall figure — certainly not Mrs. Stanley— a 
 man wrapped in a soldier's cloak. 
 
THE SUN SHINES, AND THE RAIN-DROPS GLITTER. 315 
 
 "My friends," said he, in a loud, clear voice, that 
 seemed to ring with gladness, "I have taken prisoner 
 Colonel Guy Dal ton, of the Regiment — " 
 
 lie £ot no farther. There was a scream from 
 Lillie, not a sound from Sue, but all three had dis- 
 appeared from the room as mysteriously as if they 
 had been spirited away. 
 
 Every one looked at his neighbor in a state of 
 bewilderment. 
 
 " What's this ? " said grandpapa. " Arthur, I don't 
 understand. Guy, did you say? Did I see him 
 just now?" 
 
 " Guy himself," said Mr. Stanley : " the w T orse for 
 prison fare, certainly, and for prison fever, too, I 
 fear, but Guy Dalton for all that." 
 
 "I told you, I told you, Lillie," cried Jimmie. 
 " I said he w r ould bring him back." 
 
 But no Lillie was there to hear. 
 
 "But how?" said Mr. Osborne, puzzled. "It 
 seemed all like a dream ; he's gone again." 
 
 "Only up stairs, sir," said Mr. Stanley, laughing; 
 " no farther off. As for how he came here, it is one 
 of the mysterious appearances w 7 e read of in stories. 
 I am not going to tell the story of his escopo ; but 
 this I do know, that Fanny and I met him on the 
 
316 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 boat coming from New York, and were only too glad 
 to believe him when he said he was himself." 
 
 "O, let me run and call him!" cried Geoffrey, 
 starting for the stairs. "O, let me hear his ad- 
 ventures ! " 
 
 "No, not yet, Jeff," said Bob, catching him by the 
 arm; "he's with Sue and Lillie." 
 
 "And while he is with them," said Mr. Stanley, 
 "let me look around me a little, and hear the adven- 
 tures of our home soldiers. Not that you are one 
 of the 'Stay-at-home Brigade,' Jack. You've got 
 out, then?" 
 
 " O, uncle Arthur ! " said Fanny ; " don't speak as 
 if that was so much. Out on crutches — what's that? 
 He might as well be on his back again." 
 
 " Fanny speaks for herself, sir," said her brother, 
 good-naturedly. " Those aren't Jack's sentiments ; 
 he takes a brighter view than that." 
 
 "He means to walk again," said Jimmie, in his 
 father's ear. " I'm sure I did not feci so certain of 
 getting rid of my one crutch, when I had it, as cousin 
 Jack does of doing without his two." 
 
 "And where there's a will there's a way," said 
 Mr. Stanley, with a smile at Jack. "Decidedly, 
 Fanny, it is best to take the bright view of things." 
 
THE SUN SHINES, AND THE RAIN-DliOPS GLITTER. 317 
 
 "I have had adventures, too, papa," uaid Geoffrey, 
 pulling his father's hand to attract his attention. 
 "Did you hear of me on the rock?" 
 
 "Yes, we did, my little man," said his father; 
 " and that's more than your mother will wish to do 
 now. I don't believe she has got over shuddering 
 yet, when she thinks of it. You were very brave, 
 my little hero; but one doesn't need to go into such 
 out-of-the-way places to be manly — eh, Bob?" 
 
 Bob, who was sitting by his mother, with "Lillie 
 the Less," as he called her, on his knee, hung his 
 head a little, as he always did when praised. 
 
 "Hold up your head, Bob," said grandpapa; "and, 
 Arty, don't you look ashamed, either. Everybody 
 must learn wisdom by experience, Arthur; " (to Mr. 
 Stanley), "and nobody does right always, you know 
 — even Bob." 
 
 And he gave a good-natured pat to Bob's shoulder. 
 "Even Bob," said Mr. Stanley, with a smiling 
 dance at his son, "or Jimmie, or Geoffrey, or 
 Arthur. A year makes us all look very little older, 
 I see ; and whether it makes us all a good deal wiser, 
 time must show. At least, as grandpapa says, we 
 must all learn wisdom by experience, and experience 
 
318 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 is a thing nobody can get for us. So we must only 
 get fresh courage from one or two failures, and 
 gather up our strength for another attack — a firmer , 
 resistance. So hold up your heads, boys, as grand- 
 papa says, and never despond if the battle be a hard 
 one. Lifers a battle, you know." 
 
 " Except to those who can't fight it — and then it's 
 a longing," said cousin Jack — such a strange speech 
 from him that Bob and Mr. Stanley both turned their 
 heads quickly. 
 
 w And if it is a longing, is an endeavor for lofty 
 ends, why, it's a success," said Mr. Stanley. w Do 
 you remember what Lowell says? — 
 
 ' Not failure, but low aim is crime.' 
 
 And that's a good watchword for warriors at home as 
 well as abroad." 
 
 " Poetry again," said Geoffrey, in desperation. 
 K O, papa, let me go call Colonel Dalton ! They 
 have had him long enough, and we know nothing 
 of how he got here." 
 
 e< But he is here, and isn't that enough?" said Guy 
 himself, catching the heedless youngster, as he made 
 for the door, seeing nothing in his headlong rush. 
 
THE SUN SHINES, AND THE RAIN-D110PS GLITTER. 319 
 
 THE SUN SHINES. 
 
 And all eyes turned to the doorway, where Guy, 
 Sue, and Lillie stood, Colonel Dalton himself, indeed, 
 pale, thin, and gaunt-looking. But Sue had found 
 her rosy cheeks again, and a bright smile seemed to 
 sparkle in the tears still on Lillie's cheeks. 
 
 f 'I see the rainbow," whispered Jimmie, with a shy 
 little laugh $ to Bob. 
 
320 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. (and last.) 
 
 " all's well that ends well." 
 
 SHOULD ask your pardon for ending up my 
 story with such a matter-of-course finale as a 
 wedding, if I did not agree with Prissy in her some- 
 what contradictory statement that " weddings, com- 
 mon as they are, don't happen every day," or, as she 
 should have said, never lose their interest for all con- 
 cerned, however full of them the daily papers may 
 be. A wedding is always an occasion of fresh glad- 
 ness and sympathy, a festival with a little tinge of 
 sadness, sometimes, at the loss or change in the 
 family circle, or perhaps a little shade of awe in girl- 
 ish hearts just beginning to think of such things. 
 And, as there was no one of the party to whom I 
 have introduced you who did not feci it an event of 
 the greatest excitement and interest, it seems a pity 
 yon should not be there with me to sec it. 
 
 However Guy Dalton had escaped from prison, it 
 
all's well that ends well. 
 
 321 
 
 is very certain that his stay there had not left him 
 stronger in health. In fact, he looked so thin and 
 gaunt, even when home and nearness to Sue might 
 be supposed to work wonders in effecting a cure, t> it 
 grandpapa began to advise his universal panacea- 
 change of air and scene. 
 
 « I think that sounds rather hard-hearted, under the 
 circumstances, sir," said Guy, with a laughing glanco 
 at Sue. " However, if you will make some conces- 
 sions, I am quite ready to adopt any travelling 
 scheme you may propose." 
 
 Now, Mr. Osborne had always declared his inabil- 
 ity to part with Sue — "his daughter," as he called 
 her — under a year ; but when reminded thus of his 
 hard-heartedness, he pished and pshawed a little, 
 changed the subject for a time, then came out abrupt- 
 ly, half an hour after, with, "Well, it does seem 
 rather flinty for a selfish old fellow like me to stand 
 in the way of you young folks. Take her just when 
 you want her, Guy; make the most of her, and 
 carry her wherever you please." 
 
 So, with a hearty laugh at his own blunt speech, 
 the old gentleman withdrew his opposition, and wed- 
 dings began to be the foremost subject on the carpet, 
 21 
 
322 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 "The very first in the family, I do declare, since 
 Mrs. Stanley's," said Prissy. "There's nothing like 
 having a good fair start to begin with ; so do, dear, 
 let's contrive to have no unlucky months, or days, or 
 anything of that kind about this wedding, or I shali 
 feel as if it would go wrong all through the whole lot 
 of you. Your mamma, Master Arthur, was married 
 on a Friday ; and I declare I was all one tremble all 
 through the ceremony. I've been on the lookout 
 ever since for some ill luck to come of it, and I'm not 
 so sure it mayn't yet. I believe that's one reason 
 why I'm always so scared about you boys, though I 
 will say you do come wonderfully out of your scrapes 
 so far/ 5 
 
 "But tell about the wedding, Prissy," said Lillie, 
 whose little head was quite naturally filled with the 
 subject just now. 
 
 "Why, there isn't much to tell about, Miss Lillie ; 
 and, to speak the truth, I was so worried about the 
 day, that, what with one thing and another, I hadn't 
 much time to think of anything in particular. We 
 were all rather melancholy about that wedding, for 
 Mr. Robert had been married long before, and gone 
 out west; and Mr. John, in the course of Miss 
 
all's well that ends well. 
 
 323 
 
 Fanny's long engagement, he'd got married, too; 
 so she was the last one left at home; and yout 
 orandma'am felt a little blue at the notion of losing 
 her. * I believe, after all, Stanley,' Mr. John said, 
 < I reckoned without my host when I told you we 
 should be so glad to give you Fanny. So we all 
 cried as much as heart could desire; but Miss 
 Fanny — dear me ! how pretty she looked, with 
 a bright color in her cheeks, and a happy smile on 
 her lips, as if she couldn't understand such a thing 
 as tears that day ! I declare, I car see her now as 
 plain as if it were last week.". 
 
 "But, Prissy," interrupted Fanny, " suppose Sue 
 should be married on an unlucky day, as you say ; 
 what harm do you think it would do us ? " 
 
 "I should feel," quoth Prissy, with a solemn 
 shake of the head, "as if there would be bad luck 
 with the wedding straight through the generation. 
 I declare, Miss Fanny, I should feel as if you girls 
 wouldn't be married at all ! " 
 
 " Would that be such a dreadful misfortune ? " said 
 Fanny, coolly. "Worse things have happened to 
 girls before now, Trissy." 
 
324 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 The old handmaiden vouchsaved no reply, con- 
 scious, perhaps, that in her own case practice did 
 not carry out precept. The tale of Prissy's wedding 
 day was one of grandmamma's most popular stories, 
 and there was not a child in the family who did 
 not know by heart how, at the last moment, the 
 faithful servant had faltered in her resolution, pro- 
 nounced herself a great fool to give up a comforta- 
 ble home for any husband in the world, and how 
 she had required the persuasions of the whole house- 
 hold to induce her to put on her wedding array ; 
 how, during the ceremony, she had herself shed 
 tears enough for all the guests, and how, finally, 
 the trying ordeal over, she had doffed her fine dress, 
 resumed her white apron, and betaken herself to 
 cooking again, as if nothing had happened, or as if 
 there were no consolation for her out of the sight 
 of her pots and pans. 
 
 But while all the young heads were so full of the 
 minutiae of weddings, past and present, Guy and 
 Sue, the chief parties concerned, took no share in 
 the general excitement. In fact, Lillie complained 
 sometimes that Sue did not take enough interest 
 in all her prelly things, "and really would just as 
 
all's well that ends well. 
 
 325 
 
 lief be married with old dresses as new" — a state 
 of mind wnich, to pupil of Mrs. Melville, seemed 
 incredible. 
 
 Now, whether Sue owed it to her old-fashioned 
 training or not, I cannot say ; but certain it is that 
 there was so little of the modern fashionable young 
 lady about her, that her tro^sxea^ was by no means 
 the foremost thing Hn her mind just now. Being 
 married meant to her something different from 
 having fine clothes, numberless presents, an estab- 
 lishment of her own, or a new name; so something 
 very different from all these things filled her mind. 
 She thought a good deal, and somewhat gravely, 
 of the happy home she was leaving, very earnestly 
 of the new life she was about to begin, and the 
 new duties she was about to undertake ; still more, 
 and very happily and thankfully this time, of the 
 love that had worked this great change in her life. 
 So it is no wonder she was more quiet than usual, 
 and left all excitement and merry-making to the 
 youngsters who had nothing else to think about. 
 The wedding-day came at last — a June morning, 
 as sweet, as calm, and as sunshiny as Sue herself, 
 — and all the debates as to the respective prover- 
 
326 
 
 BATTLES AT HOME. 
 
 bial merits of rainy and sunshiny wedding days 
 were hushed at the first glimpse of the cloudless 
 sky. 
 
 It was a real home wedding, the dear old parlor 
 filled with flowers, and crowded with friendly faces 
 — uncle Arthur to marry the young couple, and 
 Arthur, Fanny, *<ob„ and Lillie for groomsmen 
 and bridesmaids. The young people had been full 
 of the wildest spirits up to the last minute, when 
 Fanny had appeared, flying to the head of the stairs 
 with a small blue bow, which she had mysteriously 
 insisted on pinning to Sue's dress in a safe fold 
 out of sight. 
 
 M It's for luck, Prissy says," she exclaimed, 
 breathless. "Brides, you know, must always wear 
 
 ' Something old and something new, 
 Something borrowed and something blue ; ? 
 
 so I found this bow of mine at the last moment, 
 and we can each wear it in turn after you, Sue." 
 
 But down stairs even madcap Fanny forgot her 
 nonsense, and her laughing face wore an unwonted 
 seriousness as she listened. It must, indeed, be 
 an unimprecttthie young heart that is not ibrillcd 
 
all's well that ends well. 
 
 32? 
 
 through unci through by those i*.fc*ua wirds, and 
 does opt feel, with all cK ,r*rp of untried awe, what 
 the elders have learned by experience, that these 
 are, indeed, no vows to be lightly pledged and un- 
 thinkingly repeated. 
 
 But come! "t-oag '^ve-takiogs are sorry things 
 at best," as grandpapa said to cut short the affec- 
 tionate adieux ; so I will spare you all the details 
 of the wedding. You all know how the long-suf- 
 fering bride was kissed aud caressed, how the smil- 
 ing bridegroom was congratulated and shaken hands 
 with, how presents were admired, cake was cut, 
 healths were drunk, and pretty speeches made, as 
 well as if you had yourself been there. Of course 
 there were plenty of tears and smiles, and much 
 joking and merriment; in short, « our wedding was 
 the jolliest ever known," as Geoffrey loudly pro- 
 claimed. And there was no time to think of miss- 
 ing Sue till the last reception guests were gone, and 
 the pair were fairly seated in the carriage, with 
 trunks on behind, and the coachman (with a gala 
 nosegay in his button-hole) on the box. 
 
 " Good luck and good wishes ! " were called after 
 the happf couple by half a dozen different voices 
 
328 BATTLES AT KOIKE. 
 
 from the windows; and cousin Jack, standing on 
 the piazza, threw the proverbial old shoes after the 
 carriage with such accuracy of aim, that, at the 
 last glimpse of Guy and Sue, each held a slipper 
 in hand. 
 
 "Why, how still and empty <> a house seems!" 
 said grandpapa, turning hoarse with his hurrahs, 
 as the carriage disappeared round the bend of the 
 leafy avenue. 
 
 And each looked at the other with the sudden 
 sobering and quieting down that always follows a 
 strong and general excitement. 
 
 "Now mind you don't tell your dreams, young 
 ladies," Prissy was saying to the two girls, each of 
 whom held a bit of cake, which had been duly 
 passed through the wedding-ring, to be « dreamed 
 on." « That would be just as bad as having no 
 dream at all." 
 
 Lillie laughingly promised; but Fanny, turning 
 quickly to Jack, who stood behind her, drew his 
 arm over her shoulder, saying, in her impulsive 
 fashion, as she threw aside the crutch, whose place 
 she had taken, "I mean to dream of nobody, then." 
 
all's well that ends well. 
 
 329 
 
 "Till death do us part, Fanny?" said Jack, smil- 
 ing at her. 
 
 But that is a hint of the future, and few of us, 
 as we fight our home battles, would care to look 
 forward in our lives and know just how it is to 
 go with us when we are fairly out in the world ! 
 
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