Newspaper Page Text
370
old Sorrel, who was a colt when Johnny’s
mother was a little girl.
The children spent a delightful day,
and got home just about dark, tired and
sleepy, but so glad they went. Their
mamma has promised that they shall go
again soon, if they are good children, and
I hope they will be.
+*+
The Truant.
jctt mno Will C ° me an<l Play With mC undcr the
CpjljW My cousins have left me alone;
My sweet little Sparrow, come twitter to mo
And play with me while they are gone.
Oh, no, little lady, I can’t come, indeed,
y —
I’ve got all my dear little children to feed
And my nest to new-cover with hay.
Pretty Bee, do not buzz about over the flower,
But stay, come and play with me, do ;
The Sparrow won’t play with me an hour,
But say, little Bee, will not you?
Oh, no, little lady, I can’t play with thee—
I am made to labor and strive;
If I play, they will call me a sad idle bee,
And perhaps turn me out of the hive.
Stop 1 stop ! little Ant, do not run on so fast,
But pray come and play with me, do ;
The Sparrow and Bee won’t play w T ith me,
But say, little Ant, cannot you?
Oh, no, little lady, I can’t stop to play,
I’m not born to play but to labor;
I always have something or other to do,
If not for myself, for a neighbor!
What, then! have they all some employment but me,
Who lie lounging here, like a dunce?
Oh, then, like the Ant, the Sparrow and Bee,
I’ll run to my lesson at once.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
ELLEN HUNTER:
A STORY OF THE WAR.
DEDICATED TO THE CHILDREN OP THE SOUTH BY ONE
WHO HAS BEEN AN EYE-WITNESS TO THEIR
SORROWS AND THEIR SUFFERINGS.
BY BYRD LYTTLE, OF VIRGINIA.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHRISTMAS —A STRANGE VISITOR.
Bllen w T as so busy at
tending to her domestic
duties, that the time
passed very rapidly, and
as came almost before she
dy for it. She had been
>ggs and buying up tur
that when the boys came
uld have plenty of “ egg
nog,” and as much turkey as they could
eat. She had heard, through Harry’s
letters, how difficult it was to get any
thing nice in camp, so she thought she
would try her best and have everything
that was good for them at home.
Kate Morson arrived about a week be
fore the boys came, and both Ellen and
she were just as busy as bees. Aunt
Polly, who superintended the cooking de
partment, would not let the girls do any-
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
thing towards helping her except beat
the eggs for the cake, but that was fine
fun for Kate. Her tongue moved as fast
as her hands. They always seemed so
merry in the pantry, that George begged
that they would come in his room and
make cakes in future.
One day, when they were very much
in want of some assistance, Kate said :
“I can’t imagine, Ellie, why you don't
make Mr. Hunter help you. There he is,
sitting up in his chair, with his hands
folded, playing the ornamental all the
time. Now, I am going to put him to
work.”
“ Oh, Kate ! ” said Ellen, “ don’t worry
George; you know he cannot stand being
teazed now.”
“Neither can 1 stand being worked to
death by you and Aunt Polly ; and if we
don’t get someone to help us, we won’t
get through this year.”
All the time she w T as talking, she was
breaking the eggs into a dish. After she
had finished, she walked into George’s
room, with an apron over her arm, look
ing as solemn as possible. As she opened
the door, she said :
“ I hope you are better to-day, Mr.
Hunter.”
“Yes, thank you, Miss Kate; but what
is that you have there ? ”
“Aunt Polly says, if you can find the
time, she would be much obliged if you
will beat these eggs for her.”
“ And what does Miss Kate say ? ”
asked George, laughing.
“She says, if you don’t do it, you will
soon have a used-up individual in the
house, in the person of your humble ser
vant. I have beaten eggs until I have
lost all control over my right arm, and I
expect to spend the remainder of my
days a living specimen of ‘perpetual mo
tion.’ ”
During this speech, she was putting
the apron across George’s knees. Then
giving him the dish, and only waiting
long enough to see that he understood
the business, she turned to leave the
room; but before closing the door, she
said :
“ When you get through those, let me
know, arid I will bring you some more.”
“ Thank you,” said George, « but these
are as many as I can attend to.”
When she went back to the pantry she
found Ellen all curiosity to know what
had happened, and if George was really
helping them.
“To be sure he is,” said Kate; “did
you think ‘Mass George wasn’t going to
do what Aunt Polly ax him ’ to do.”
“ What dat you say, Miss Kate ? ” said
Aunt Polly.
“I was just telling Ellie that Mass
George said he would beat the eggs f or
you with pleasure.”
“ I knows better dan dat, Miss Kate.
Mass George knows old Aunt Polly aint
turned fool in her old age, to go and ax
her young massa to beat eggs for her. Es
he’s a doing it for anybody, lie’s a doing
it for you, chile.
“ Well, may be so, Aunt Polly; I B np.
pose you know best.”
Christmas came at last, and I expect it
would have been a difficult matter to find
a happier household than that at the
“ Home.” Harry, William Saunders and
Ned Morson had all been able to come,
and Kate and Ellie were just as happy
as they could be. Old and young, all
hung up their stockings Christmas eve;
and the next morning, such shouts of
laughter as w T ould come from the different
rooms as they found out what tricks had
been played. Kate, with George’s as
sistance, had managed to put something
in each stocking that would teaze the
owner. She little knew that she had
been found out, until on looking into her
own stocking, she found a toy, represent
ing an old woman whose tongue was con
stantly in motion, as if she was forever
talking.
“I know whose work this is,” said
Kate, on taking it out, “ and i’ll pay them
for it, you see if I don’t.”
Ellie begged her not to do any more
mischief, but just keep quiet for the rest
of the holidays.
“Not I,” said Kate; “somebody has
to suffer for this. The idea of thinking!
am a great talker, when I have all my
life been living up to “ Children must be
seen, and not heard.”
Bessie found a beautiful little kitten in
her stocking, which was named ‘ "White
foot ’ on the spot. Charlie found in his
a knife with six blades, which gave him
the most intense satisfaction. To be sure,
ho was never seen for a month afterwards
without having at least two fingers tied
up, from wounds he had inflicted on him
self with it; but in spite of this, it was,
as he said, ‘a great comfort to him.’ ”
Christmas night, as they were all as
sembled in the parlor, there was a knock
at the front door. While they 7 were won
dering who it could be, the servant opened
the door, and announced:
“Lieutenant Conrad ! ”
I)r. Hunter rose, and on seeing an offi
cer in Confederate uniform, extended his
hand, and introduced him to the othei
members of the family. There was a
momentary lull in the conversation, and
the usual awkwardness which is caused
by a stranger joining a family circle.