hould so much like to put Chirp into Dicky's cage."
"I have been thinking of the very same thing," said Charles. "Let us run and ask mamma if we may do it."
Away they ran and asked.
"Why," said their mamma, "it certainly will have rather a strange appearance. The two birds do not seem suitable companions. It is an odd fancy, children; but you may do it if you like."
No sooner said than done. Off ran Fanny and Charles--took the little Foundling out of his old lantern--opened the door of Dicky's cage--and at once put him in, and fastened the door. In a moment, Dicky flew up to his top perch, and stood looking down very earnestly; and the little Foundling, though he could stump about on his lame toes, never moved, but sat looking up at Sir Dicky. The nestling looked like a poor little ragged lame beggar-boy whom a sprightly gentleman in a bright yellow coat had been so compassionate as to take into his house.
[Illustration]
Presently the Foundling went to the seed-box, a
I am preparing to set off for Chantilly. Adieu, my Polly.
October 2.
I have arrived at Chantilly. Nancy was much better than I expected to find her. Weakness is her only complaint. She was delighted to see me, and inquired eagerly for her dear Polly, and was much pleased with your letter.
Mrs. Pinkard is here--and a sweet Woman she is. Adieu. Nancy says I shall not write more.
October 3.
I am just up, and am going to seat myself for Sibby to crape my hair.
[Sidenote: Stratford. Residence of Philip Ludwell Lee.]
Cousin Nancy and myself have just returned from taking an airing in the Chariot. We went to Stratford: walked in the Garden, sat about two hours under a butifull shade tree, and eat as many figs as we could. How did we wish for our dear Polly, and think that was the only thing we wanted to compleat our happiness!
We brought to Chantilly Col. H. Lee's little Boy. He has stayed at Stratford sinc
g till our killing time was come? The poor devils of steers have never done anything but ramble off the run now and again, while we -- but it's too late to think of that. It IS hard. There's no saying it isn't; no, nor thinking what a fool, what a blind, stupid, thundering idiot a fellow's been, to laugh at the steady working life that would have helped him up, bit by bit, to a good farm, a good wife, and innocent little kids about him, like that chap, George Storefield, that came to see me last week. He was real rightdown sorry for me, I could tell, though Jim and I used to laugh at him, and call him a regular old crawler of a milker's calf in the old days. The tears came into his eyes reg'lar like a woman as he gave my hand a squeeze and turned his head away. We was little chaps together, you know. A man always feels that, you know. And old George, he'll go back -- a fifty-mile ride, but what's that on a good horse? He'll be late home, but he can cross the rock ford the short way over the creek. I can see h
to do, but it took more guts that he had to jump off a bridge, so he went on the Road instead.
After he got over his shakes--and he sure had 'em bad--he decided that, if he never took another drink, it'd be the best thing for him. So he didn't. He had a kind of dignity, though, and he could really talk, so he and I teamed up during the wheat harvest in South Dakota. We made all the stops and, when we hit the peaches in California we picked up Sacks and Dirty Pete.
Sacks got his monicker because he never wore shoes. He claimed that gunny-sacks, wrapped around his feet and shins, gave as much protection and more freedom, and they were more comfortable, besides costing nix. Since we mostly bought our shoes at the dumps, at four bits a pair, you might say he was stretching a point, but that's one of the laws of the Road. You don't step on the othe
oduction, the multifold--all this was written under that skywhich now swept, deep and blue, flecked here and there with soft andfleecy clouds, over these fruitful acres hewn from the primevalforest.
The forest, the deep, vast forest of oak and ash and gum and ghostlysycamore; the forest, tangled with a thousand binding vines andbriers, wattled and laced with rank blue cane--sure proof of a soilexhaustlessly rich--this ancient forest still stood, mysterious andforbidding, all about the edges of the great plantation. Here andthere a tall white stump, fire-blackened at its foot, stood, even infields long cultivated, showing how laborious and slow had been thewhittling away of this jungle, which even now continually encroachedand claimed its own. The rim of the woods, marked white by thedeadened trees where the axes of the laborers were reclaiming yetother acres as the years rolled by, now showed in the morning sundistinctly, making a frame for the rich and restful picture of theBig House and it
"And I've been wanting to talk to you about this, Ingred. Shall you be very disappointed when I tell you 'No'?"
"Oh, Muvvie!" Ingred's tone was agonized.
"It can't be helped, little woman! It can't indeed! I think you're old enough now to understand if I explain. You know this war has hit a great many people very hard. There has been a sort of general financial see-saw; some have made large fortunes, but others have lost them. We come in the latter list. When your father went out to France, he had to leave his profession to take care of itself, and other architects have stepped in and gained the commissions that used to come to his office. It may take him a long while to pull his connection together again, and the time of waiting will be one of much anxiety for him. Then, most of our investments, which used to pay such good dividends, are worth hardly anything now, and only bring us in a pittance compared with former years. Instead of being rich people, we shall have to be very careful indeed to
hey will learn very fast.
Soon we shall see how well they can read.
This doll is not so good as the others.
She does not like to go to school very well.
She must sit by me and look at her book.
As soon as she can read well, she may go home and play.
She goes to school day after day, but she does not learn.
She can not write at all.
She can not tell her name.
---
WRITING LESSON.
This is my little doll.
Her name is Lucy.
Do you thik she is pretty?
s as dolls does goes is
---
tall Henry am table what
"How tall you are, Henry!"
"Yes, father, I shall soon be a man. I am as tall as the table, now."
"What can you see on the table?"
"I can see your big book, father."
"What do you see by the book?"
"Oh, I see some pictures. Two pictures are by the book, and two are not by the book."
"How many are two and two, Henry?"
"Two and two are four."
"You
or Child. It is to be hoped that some pupil of his maycomplete the task in his sense, if, indeed, he has left it
unfinished.
Ballad: Sir Patrick Spens
(Border Minstrelsy.)
The king sits in Dunfermline town,
Drinking the blude-red wine o:
"O whare will I get a skeely skipper
To sail this new ship of mine o?"
O up and spake an eldern-knight,
Sat at the king's right knee:
"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
That ever saild the sea."
Our king has written a braid letter,
And seald it with his hand,
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
Was walking on the strand.
"To Noroway, to Noroway,
To Noroway oer the faem;
The king's daughter of Noroway,
'Tis thou maun bring her hame."
The first word that Sir Patrick read,
Sae loud, loud laughed he;
The neist word that Sir Patrick read,
The tear blinded his ee.
"O wha is this has done this deed,
And tauld the king o me,
To send us out, at this time of the year,
the Hearts of Men to =Compassion= and =Tenderness=, this greatest of Evils is found to have the contrary Effect. Whether Men of wicked Minds, through Hopes of Impunity, at these Times of Disorder and Confusion, give their evil Disposition full Scope, which ordinarily is restrained by the Fear of Punishment; or whether it be, that a constant View of Calamities and Distress does so pervert the Minds of Men, as to blot out all Sentiments of Humanity; or whatever else be the Cause: certain it is, that at such Times, when it should be expected to see all Men unite in one common Endeavour, to moderate the publick Misery; quite otherwise, they grow regardless of each other, and Barbarities are often practised, unknown at other Times. Accordingly =Diemerbroek= informs us, that he himself had often seen these =Hospitals= committed to the Charge of Villains, whose Inhumanity has suffered great Numbers to perish by Neglect, and that sometimes they have even smothered such as have been very weak, or have had nauseous Ulc
hould so much like to put Chirp into Dicky's cage."
"I have been thinking of the very same thing," said Charles. "Let us run and ask mamma if we may do it."
Away they ran and asked.
"Why," said their mamma, "it certainly will have rather a strange appearance. The two birds do not seem suitable companions. It is an odd fancy, children; but you may do it if you like."
No sooner said than done. Off ran Fanny and Charles--took the little Foundling out of his old lantern--opened the door of Dicky's cage--and at once put him in, and fastened the door. In a moment, Dicky flew up to his top perch, and stood looking down very earnestly; and the little Foundling, though he could stump about on his lame toes, never moved, but sat looking up at Sir Dicky. The nestling looked like a poor little ragged lame beggar-boy whom a sprightly gentleman in a bright yellow coat had been so compassionate as to take into his house.
[Illustration]
Presently the Foundling went to the seed-box, a
I am preparing to set off for Chantilly. Adieu, my Polly.
October 2.
I have arrived at Chantilly. Nancy was much better than I expected to find her. Weakness is her only complaint. She was delighted to see me, and inquired eagerly for her dear Polly, and was much pleased with your letter.
Mrs. Pinkard is here--and a sweet Woman she is. Adieu. Nancy says I shall not write more.
October 3.
I am just up, and am going to seat myself for Sibby to crape my hair.
[Sidenote: Stratford. Residence of Philip Ludwell Lee.]
Cousin Nancy and myself have just returned from taking an airing in the Chariot. We went to Stratford: walked in the Garden, sat about two hours under a butifull shade tree, and eat as many figs as we could. How did we wish for our dear Polly, and think that was the only thing we wanted to compleat our happiness!
We brought to Chantilly Col. H. Lee's little Boy. He has stayed at Stratford sinc
g till our killing time was come? The poor devils of steers have never done anything but ramble off the run now and again, while we -- but it's too late to think of that. It IS hard. There's no saying it isn't; no, nor thinking what a fool, what a blind, stupid, thundering idiot a fellow's been, to laugh at the steady working life that would have helped him up, bit by bit, to a good farm, a good wife, and innocent little kids about him, like that chap, George Storefield, that came to see me last week. He was real rightdown sorry for me, I could tell, though Jim and I used to laugh at him, and call him a regular old crawler of a milker's calf in the old days. The tears came into his eyes reg'lar like a woman as he gave my hand a squeeze and turned his head away. We was little chaps together, you know. A man always feels that, you know. And old George, he'll go back -- a fifty-mile ride, but what's that on a good horse? He'll be late home, but he can cross the rock ford the short way over the creek. I can see h
to do, but it took more guts that he had to jump off a bridge, so he went on the Road instead.
After he got over his shakes--and he sure had 'em bad--he decided that, if he never took another drink, it'd be the best thing for him. So he didn't. He had a kind of dignity, though, and he could really talk, so he and I teamed up during the wheat harvest in South Dakota. We made all the stops and, when we hit the peaches in California we picked up Sacks and Dirty Pete.
Sacks got his monicker because he never wore shoes. He claimed that gunny-sacks, wrapped around his feet and shins, gave as much protection and more freedom, and they were more comfortable, besides costing nix. Since we mostly bought our shoes at the dumps, at four bits a pair, you might say he was stretching a point, but that's one of the laws of the Road. You don't step on the othe
oduction, the multifold--all this was written under that skywhich now swept, deep and blue, flecked here and there with soft andfleecy clouds, over these fruitful acres hewn from the primevalforest.
The forest, the deep, vast forest of oak and ash and gum and ghostlysycamore; the forest, tangled with a thousand binding vines andbriers, wattled and laced with rank blue cane--sure proof of a soilexhaustlessly rich--this ancient forest still stood, mysterious andforbidding, all about the edges of the great plantation. Here andthere a tall white stump, fire-blackened at its foot, stood, even infields long cultivated, showing how laborious and slow had been thewhittling away of this jungle, which even now continually encroachedand claimed its own. The rim of the woods, marked white by thedeadened trees where the axes of the laborers were reclaiming yetother acres as the years rolled by, now showed in the morning sundistinctly, making a frame for the rich and restful picture of theBig House and it
"And I've been wanting to talk to you about this, Ingred. Shall you be very disappointed when I tell you 'No'?"
"Oh, Muvvie!" Ingred's tone was agonized.
"It can't be helped, little woman! It can't indeed! I think you're old enough now to understand if I explain. You know this war has hit a great many people very hard. There has been a sort of general financial see-saw; some have made large fortunes, but others have lost them. We come in the latter list. When your father went out to France, he had to leave his profession to take care of itself, and other architects have stepped in and gained the commissions that used to come to his office. It may take him a long while to pull his connection together again, and the time of waiting will be one of much anxiety for him. Then, most of our investments, which used to pay such good dividends, are worth hardly anything now, and only bring us in a pittance compared with former years. Instead of being rich people, we shall have to be very careful indeed to
hey will learn very fast.
Soon we shall see how well they can read.
This doll is not so good as the others.
She does not like to go to school very well.
She must sit by me and look at her book.
As soon as she can read well, she may go home and play.
She goes to school day after day, but she does not learn.
She can not write at all.
She can not tell her name.
---
WRITING LESSON.
This is my little doll.
Her name is Lucy.
Do you thik she is pretty?
s as dolls does goes is
---
tall Henry am table what
"How tall you are, Henry!"
"Yes, father, I shall soon be a man. I am as tall as the table, now."
"What can you see on the table?"
"I can see your big book, father."
"What do you see by the book?"
"Oh, I see some pictures. Two pictures are by the book, and two are not by the book."
"How many are two and two, Henry?"
"Two and two are four."
"You
or Child. It is to be hoped that some pupil of his maycomplete the task in his sense, if, indeed, he has left it
unfinished.
Ballad: Sir Patrick Spens
(Border Minstrelsy.)
The king sits in Dunfermline town,
Drinking the blude-red wine o:
"O whare will I get a skeely skipper
To sail this new ship of mine o?"
O up and spake an eldern-knight,
Sat at the king's right knee:
"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
That ever saild the sea."
Our king has written a braid letter,
And seald it with his hand,
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
Was walking on the strand.
"To Noroway, to Noroway,
To Noroway oer the faem;
The king's daughter of Noroway,
'Tis thou maun bring her hame."
The first word that Sir Patrick read,
Sae loud, loud laughed he;
The neist word that Sir Patrick read,
The tear blinded his ee.
"O wha is this has done this deed,
And tauld the king o me,
To send us out, at this time of the year,
the Hearts of Men to =Compassion= and =Tenderness=, this greatest of Evils is found to have the contrary Effect. Whether Men of wicked Minds, through Hopes of Impunity, at these Times of Disorder and Confusion, give their evil Disposition full Scope, which ordinarily is restrained by the Fear of Punishment; or whether it be, that a constant View of Calamities and Distress does so pervert the Minds of Men, as to blot out all Sentiments of Humanity; or whatever else be the Cause: certain it is, that at such Times, when it should be expected to see all Men unite in one common Endeavour, to moderate the publick Misery; quite otherwise, they grow regardless of each other, and Barbarities are often practised, unknown at other Times. Accordingly =Diemerbroek= informs us, that he himself had often seen these =Hospitals= committed to the Charge of Villains, whose Inhumanity has suffered great Numbers to perish by Neglect, and that sometimes they have even smothered such as have been very weak, or have had nauseous Ulc